Chapter 18
The hours dragged by. I wanted to get answers from Trey, but I didn’t dare talk more than necessary.
He radiated calm, which made me want to throttle him.
Eventually I fell asleep, exhausted after my restless night of healing Nemo, but my dreams were full of blood and screams and the flash of Madame’s knife.
I jolted awake when Trey shook me. He held a finger up to his mouth and then slid closer to me, pressing his lips against my ear.
“You were starting to talk in your sleep,” he whispered.
I nodded to let him know I understood, my heart lurching. If he hadn’t been here, I could’ve easily given myself away. I started to shift over, but he slid an arm around my waist and pulled me against him. I stiffened.
“You can go back to sleep,” he said softly, warm breath brushing against my cheek. “I’ll wake you up if you start talking again.”
I lay rigidly for a moment, knowing I should shove him off, but instead, I found myself curling into him.
Just ’cause it’s cold, I lied to myself.
My nose pressed against his neck, and he rested his chin on top of my head.
Every breath I took flooded me with his scent—lavender and gun oil.
It melted my angry defenses, and I let out a shuddering breath, my eyes prickling.
“I got you, darlin’,” he murmured.
Some final hardened part of me cracked in a way I knew I’d never be able to repair, that lonely garden in my chest stretching and growing and turning toward him like he was the godsdamned sun.
If he noticed the tears that slid down my face, he didn’t say anything.
He just held me until I fell asleep again.
—
Trey woke me up several times when my dreams made me start muttering or thrashing in my sleep, but I dozed on and off until nightfall.
We both lay awake and alert in the darkness when the sleigh began to slow.
The loggers complained about sore asses and having to go out again.
Our sleigh held the logging equipment, while the other held the tents and food supplies.
I’d been banking on the hope that they wouldn’t need anything from this sleigh until they arrived where they planned to harvest lumber.
Trey seemed to have the same idea, but both of us were on edge as we listened to the loggers make camp for the night.
At one point, someone flipped back the tarp of our sleigh and my heart lurched in terror, but they only grabbed a couple of axes near the back and then secured the tarp back down.
I released Trey’s arm, and he let out a slow, relieved breath.
We waited until the noise died down, and eventually a single pair of boots crunched in the snow; the sleigh seat creaked as the night watch guard settled in.
I squinted at Trey’s face, barely able to make out his features in the darkness.
“Ten more minutes,” he breathed in my ear.
Maybe six minutes later, we heard the low snore of the guard.
Trey grinned, his teeth flashing. He grabbed something beside him that I couldn’t quite make out and led the way.
We slithered on our bellies to the back of the sleigh, moving agonizingly slowly to avoid knocking over any tools.
Trey dropped down into the snow first. I waited until he signaled and then followed.
Together we crept toward the woods, but I paused, glancing back at the obvious footprints we’d left in the snow.
I shrugged out of my jacket and backtracked so I could sweep it behind us to at least partially erase our tracks.
When I reached Trey again, he gave me an approving nod.
Once we reached the woods and traveled for a few minutes, I shook the snow off my jacket and slipped it back on.
Both of us stood for a few breaths listening, but no sound came from the camp.
Our successful escape should have been a relief, but it made me feel uneasy.
“Here.” Trey handed me two long wooden ovals with some sort of leather latticework inside. He dropped his on the ground and set his feet on them, crouching to tie them onto his boots with the attached leather ties.
“Snowshoes,” he whispered.
I dropped mine into the snow, but before I could start tying them, Trey turned and did it for me. He tapped each boot with a gloved hand and I lifted it so he could access the ties; I rested my hands on his shoulders for balance.
When he straightened, he gave me his warm grin. “Like this,” he whispered, showing me how to take wide strides to avoid stepping on the sides of the snowshoes.
I followed a bit awkwardly, but it wasn’t hard to fall into a rhythm, and the snowshoes kept us on top of the snow instead of sinking to our knees.
It would have been hard, slow work to wade through it, especially with my sore back.
Gods, why did he have to be so thoughtful?
It made it a lot harder to stay mad. As we walked, I glanced back in the direction we’d come.
I wanted to get a little farther away from the loggers’ camp before I lit into him. I wanted to—
I glimpsed movement to my left, and someone grabbed my arm and jerked me against his massive body. My body reacted before my brain did. My muscles went rigid, and my breath stuttered and stalled.
“Well, what have we here?” growled Zip.
I didn’t answer, fighting against my tunneling vision as the old panic tried to drag me under.
He held me so my back pressed against his chest, and I couldn’t see his face.
He pinned my arms to my sides like bands of steel.
My snowshoes tangled on top of each other and one had been ripped partially off my boot.
“Whatcha doing here, Bones?” Zip asked, his low voice rumbling through me.
“Lookin’ for you,” I lied—poorly.
He huffed a dark laugh. “I don’t think so, baby. Looks like you’re tryin’ to run. And I’m thinkin’ Madame would reward me handsomely if I brought you back.”
“Don’t hurt yourself now.”
The sharp, reckless words were out before I could choke them back, and regret hit so fast it stole my breath.
Zip’s arms tightened and my back spasmed. “You always did think you were smarter than me, didn’t you?” he said. “You know, Bones, we got some unfinished business, you and me.”
Cold dread spread through me. Trey’s face stayed expressionless, but his eyes dipped to mine for a brief second. If Zip yelled, he’d wake the whole camp. Trey stood casually, but I could see his body coiled like a spring.
“You know, the boys get awful lonesome on these long trips. Having a pretty girl along would be a real treat.” One of his hands started moving, drifting across my body, and my insides lurched in revulsion. “Or, I could make sure no one else touches you, Bones.”
My hands trembled, but Wolf started snarling.
Survive. Do what you have to do to survive.
My mind seemed to hollow out, locking away everything except for the determination to get through this one moment. The only leverage I had was my body, but it was the only leverage I’d ever had.
“You swear it?” I asked numbly. “I let you have me and you won’t let anyone else touch me or Trey.”
“Bones.” Trey’s voice came out soft but full of fury.
“I swear it, baby,” Zip said, “on my mother’s grave.”
“Bones,” Trey said again, but I couldn’t look at him.
“Okay,” I said, hollow. Shame burned under my skin.
Zip spun me around in his arms, fully ripping off one snowshoe and forcing me to balance precariously. The victorious grin on his face made me retreat further into myself.
“Good girl,” he said cruelly.
He pushed my jacket and pack off my shoulders, letting them fall to the ground.
His freezing hands slid under my shirt, slowly pulling it up.
I raised my arms, desperately trying to push my mind somewhere far, far away.
He pulled my shirt off and then stopped, eyes narrowing at the brand on my chest.
“What the fuck is—”
A strange pffft noise sounded and his entire body jerked.
I leapt backward and stumbled over my jacket and pack and single snowshoe, landing on my ass in the snow.
I caught a glimpse of blood spurting from a hole in his forehead before he fell over backward with a dull thud.
Trey hauled me up and wrapped his arms around me, solid and warm, and I clung to him like a lifeline.
“You okay?” He sounded frantic, so at odds with how expressionless he’d been a second ago. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I had to wait until he was distracted.”
“I’m okay.” The words came out automatic, but tremors were still running through my arms, breath coming too fast. Dazed, I stared down at Zip’s motionless body. “You shot him.”
“I told him I would if he touched you again,” he said darkly, releasing me to grab my discarded shirt from the ground and shake the snow out of it. He handed it to me and turned his back, giving me some privacy to pull it back on.
“How was the gun so quiet?” I whispered as I dressed, shivering.
“Silencer.” He turned, holding up the gun to show me the strange long barrel. “Madame had a few of these locked away. I helped myself to one before I left.”
I’d never seen something like that before. “He knew you were armed; he thought you wouldn’t shoot him ’cause of the noise,” I realized.
“I was banking on him being a cocky asshole. Wasn’t too much to hope for.” He snagged my fallen jacket and pack and handed them to me, then bent to retrieve my snowshoe. “Come on, we better move fast before someone comes looking for him.”
“Are we gonna leave him here?” I asked, shrugging on my jacket and pack with numb fingers. Trey took care of my snowshoes again. I pulled my jacket tight, teeth chattering.
“Not much else we can do,” he said. “C’mon.”