Chapter 21 #2
I shook my head. According to Carth, forgiveness meant nothing if justice was not served. Wolf believed I’d killed Dune, and he wouldn’t rest until that wrong was righted. “Wolf doesn’t change his mind.”
He squeezed my hand. “I’m sorry.”
“We’re a lot alike, I think,” I surprised myself by continuing.
“We even look the same. Both of us got our mom’s eyes, hair, and freckles.
Dune looked like our dad. He was blond and blue-eyed.
” I took a deep breath. “Wolf was paranoid about everything. It’s why he trained me so hard.
Dune was softer, gentler. He loved animals.
He hated that he had to go hunting, and I hated that I couldn’t go hunting ’cause I’m a girl. ”
Trey stared at me, his brow furrowed in confusion. “ ’Cause you’re a girl?”
I grimaced. “The place I grew up was different. They thought a woman’s place was in the home, raising babies and cooking and cleaning.”
“So, a servant.” Trey frowned.
“Basically.”
“Well, that’s fuckin’ stupid.”
A grin crossed my face. “Yeah. It was fuckin’ stupid.”
He grinned back at me. “Raven is a better shot than me by far.”
“Gods, good thing I left before she pulled a gun on me.”
He tilted his head. “Did you know Raven’s the one who told us what Lana had done?”
I looked at him. I thought he was joking, but I couldn’t find a hint of teasing on his face.
“Gonna guess that’s a no.”
“I thought they were friends,” I said.
“They were. They were like sisters, but when Lana confided in Raven about what she arranged, what those men were gonna do to you, Raven ran across the whole damn hold to get me and Mac. It’s how we were able to get to the clinic before—” That muscle in his jaw flexed.
“Gods, when I saw that asshole on top of you, if I’d had my gun, I would’ve shot him without a second thought. ”
My skin prickled, every nerve suddenly awake. I hadn’t been fully oriented for that part.
“I’m so sorry that happened, Bones. I’ll never forgive myself—”
“Trey.” I tugged him to a stop. “It wasn’t your fault.”
He met my gaze, looking anguished. “I trusted Lana when—”
“It’s not your fault,” I repeated, squeezing his hand.
“I don’t blame you.” I hesitated, remembering with shame the awful things I’d said to them.
“I was lyin’ when I said I’d rather be with Juck.
I…I only said it ’cause I knew it’d hurt all of you.
” I took a breath. “You were different. That’s part of why I was so angry.
I’d been tryin’ not to believe it, but I’d started to, and then…
” Gods, this was fucking hard. “I was mad at myself. For darin’ to hope that maybe this could be something good. ”
He held my gaze, took a careful breath, and let it back out. “You told Mac that you knew how to handle it.” He sounded pained. “Had…something like that happened before?”
My heart rate picked up and my mouth went dry. I didn’t know if I could speak without my voice breaking, so I nodded. Fury flashed through his eyes.
“Juck?” he asked.
I nodded again, a chill that had nothing to do with the cold creeping over me.
“Fuck,” he said through his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut. When he opened them again, they met mine with a furious sorrow. “I wish I could bring him back to life so I could kill him. Slowly. And painfully.”
I forced a slight smile, remembering the pain on Juck’s face as he drowned in the blood pouring into his lungs. “Oh, his death was painful. I stabbed him at least six times.”
He cradled my face in his gloved hands. “Good. I hate that he hurt you. I hate that he ever touched you. I hate that no one fucking stopped him. And I hate that you had to kill him to get away.” Tears glimmered in his eyes. “And I’m so glad you became a part of our crew.”
We’re not the Reapers. We’ve been tryin’ to show you that for the past, what, six months? I know you didn’t have people then, but you do now. His earlier words ran through my head again.
“I still don’t…”
“You don’t what?” he asked.
“I know I’m a pain in the ass.” I tried to lighten the mood, but my pathetic attempt at a joke fell flat.
His eyes saddened, and I hated that I’d put that expression on his face.
“I wish I could show you how I see you, Bones. How we all see you. You’re so smart and brave.
” He flashed that crooked grin. “An’ yeah, sometimes a pain in the ass, but despite all the horrible shit you’ve been through, you still care so much about people.
Most people woulda stopped caring a long time ago. ”
“You wouldn’t.”
His smile was sad. “We’ve lived very different lives, darlin’. Sure, mine hasn’t always been easy, but I didn’t go through hell like you did. I’m not sure what kinda person I woulda been after all that.”
A hard knot formed in my throat, burning and tight.
“You wanna know the worst thing I’ve ever done?
I convinced a boy in the Reapers to run away with me.
His name was Rally. We were friends—actual friends—and I realized he wanted more.
I didn’t feel that way toward him, but I saw an opportunity.
So I told him I loved him, told him anything he wanted to hear, so I could get him to take me away on his bike.
I knew it was a death sentence for him if he got caught, but I did it anyway.
” A sick warmth rolled through me. “After they caught us a couple of days later, Juck made me watch the Reapers torture him to death.” The sensation rose, hot and foul. “They tore him apart.”
“And what happened to you?” Trey asked softly.
The moment slid slightly out of focus, and my fingers found my coat collar, tugging it tighter without thought. “That was, um, the first time. With Juck.”
His voice sharpened. “How old were you?”
“About fourteen,” I whispered.
He pulled me into him, and I focused on his warmth, trying to ground myself. Telling him felt like opening a door I’d nailed shut years ago. It brought relief I didn’t trust and panic I knew too well, the two twisting together until my stomach rolled.
“I still think you’re a good person. You were a kid in a horrible situation.” He pressed a kiss to my hair. “The fact you’ve been carryin’ all that guilt with you? It proves that you’re good.”
I started to protest, but he interrupted me.
“A bad person wouldn’t think of Rally again. A bad person would never call it the worst thing they’ve ever done.” He pulled back enough to gaze down at me, sincerity shining in his eyes. “You are not a bad person, darlin’.”
The words landed somewhere deep and unguarded. Before I could stop it, before I could argue or pull away, the thought surfaced—quiet and terrifying.
I love you.
“We should keep goin’,” I said instead, “or we’re gonna be walkin’ in the dark.”
—
The sun moved across the sky as we trudged to the trading post. By the time the sun began to set, it took all my energy to keep putting one foot in front of the other.
The pain in my back jolted through me with every step.
I tried to distract myself by thinking of ingredients I could use to make a salve for my back.
My go-to for years had been a salve made from comfrey and plantain, and I knew plantain grew wild here.
The salve Griz and Raven had used on my back was a recipe from the old healer’s notebook that had horsetail in it.
Maybe the trading post would have some dried plants I could use, and some sunflower oil.
It wouldn’t be too hard to make an oil infusion.
Not quite the same as the salve, but close.
I didn’t have any experience with whippings so I didn’t know if it was normal to have lingering pain.
The wounds hadn’t gotten infected, whether from the salve or my healing powers.
Some parts of the scars seemed like they would heal pretty flat, but other parts seemed like they would be thicker and raised.
Those were the ones that seemed to ache—
In the distance, the wolves started howling again.
“How far away are they?” I asked, shuddering.
“Pretty far.” Trey glanced up at the setting sun. “But I’m still glad we’re gonna have some better shelter tonight.”
We walked in silence for a few minutes, and when I adjusted my pack for the fourth time on my aching back, Trey stopped me.
“Let me take it,” he said, holding out a hand. “We don’t have much farther to go.”
My first instinct was to refuse, but my back screamed in protest. I hesitated, then slipped my pack off my shoulders and handed it to him, mumbling my thanks.
“Look at you accepting help,” he teased as we started walking again.
“Don’t make me take it back,” I muttered.
He laughed and reached out to snag my hand again.
“We shouldn’t use our real names at the trading post,” I said.
“Okay,” he agreed. “What name do you want to use?”
Tell him.
The thought was terrifying in its simplicity. My mouth went dry. Saying it would make this real in a way I wasn’t sure I could survive.
Nobody will be looking for that name, I tried to convince myself, but a louder, sharper voice prevailed.
You don’t know that, Wolf said.
Fear cinched tight around my ribs.
“Sara,” I finally got out, hating the way my chest ached. “That was my mom’s name.”
“Sara,” he repeated like he was testing the shape of it. “That’s good. I’ll be Flint.” His expression softened. “That was Mac’s dad’s name.”
“Flint and Sara,” I murmured.
“Flint and Sara.”