3. Eden
Eden
Laugh lines can be deceptive.
Sure , maybe this person is good humored and trustworthy.
But maybe they laugh while they dismember corpses.
Exercise caution.
T he second shot has me back on my feet, iodine and pretty doctors be darned.
The ground is especially harsh against my now-bare wound.
The three men tower beside me, still arguing among themselves.
The large man’s dark eyebrows are slanted in anger over his caramel eyes.
Dom . His short military cut is longer on top, and his broad shoulders flex as he gestures.
While I’m not sure what I’ve done to warrant the frustration in his eyes, I do agree with him on one point: it’s time to go.
I gingerly put weight on my leg, scanning the clearing for the best exit or a place to hide.
At this point, I’m wondering if jumping in the river and praying would be my best option.
I grit my teeth and turn south, not quite willing to risk the rapid, icy water—not yet—but I’ll need to be quick to make up the time I’ve lost.
I have to force my trembling legs to action; they beg me to stay seated.
“ Woah , darlin’, slow down.” Beau clasps my uninjured arm. His hand wraps around my whole bicep.
The hard planes of his face are cleanly attractive, his jaw squared. Light laugh lines branch from the corners of his hazel eyes, somehow relaxing me, just a little. How long has it been since I laughed? How often does this man do it for it to mark his face?
“ I have to go,” I repeat, more insistent this time.
I can hear them clearly now; the cracks of branches and their shouts are way too close.
But ... he’s been kind to me. Darn it, why aren’t they running too?
Guilt and indecision make me pause again, even as I curse myself.
This isn’t how I keep myself alive. Dump them and go—cold as it is, I can’t help thinking Dom is right about the sentiment.
“ There are too many of them.” I’m dangerously close to begging. “ Just run. Go .”
Beau considers me. “ How many?”
I tug, trying to pull my arm away, but he holds fast.
“ Tell me how many, darlin’.”
The quiet command in his voice has me impatiently answering before I can think. “ Fifteen ? Twenty ? I don’t know.”
The long-haired one with the wicked smile— Lucky ? Lucien ?—groans. “ Twenty ? Sweetheart , there are a lot of words I want to hear come out of that mouth, but that’s not one of them.”
I shoot him a level look, not enjoying his flippancy. He winks at me.
Another shot echoes through the forest.
“ Too late to run now,” Beau says, sounding unfazed. “ Dom ?”
“ There was a ledge on our way down the mountain, two klicks northwest.” Dom casts a quick, irritated look at me. “ Take her, then. But only until this is sorted. Then we’ll talk.”
Before I’ve puzzled that out, I’m being swung bridal style into Beau’s arms. I let out an embarrassing yelp. “ What are you doing? Put me down!”
“ Hush .” His slight smile gentles the word. “ You can’t run; let us help.”
Alarm shoots through me, and I do struggle then. “ You can’t fight them.”
All of my efforts barely seem to register. He simply tightens his arms, holding me against his hard chest.
“ They’ll track us. You can’t .”
Lucky laughs. “ Just wait and see, beautiful. Didn’t anyone ever tell you to have some faith in people?”
My mouth tightens. I’ve always been a lot of things—smart, polite, kind—but never beautiful. And faith? If people were as good as he says, then I wouldn’t have needed to run until my feet bled.
The men set a quick pace, their long legs easily covering more ground than I could.
The catcalls behind us make my stomach turn, but.
.. I’m so tired. It’s good to stop running.
Maybe this will be the end. These men around me are well armed and seem almost casual, if annoyed, at the prospect of a fight.
But I’ve seen my hunters. They’re dangerous, they’re patient, and they aren’t going to give up.
I shift to touch the small knife at my waist. Would I have the courage to end it myself? Better that than to let them have me. My fingers tremble on the worn hilt.
Beau gives my thigh a reassuring squeeze. After a moment, I rest my head against his chest; he smells clean, like soap and fresh, male sweat. I can afford to wait a bit longer. If it looks like they’ll take me, then I’ll use the knife.
Within a few minutes, we’re fronting a steep cliff face beside the water. There’s a small clearing between the trees and the rocks, but I can’t see anywhere to hide.
“ Lucky , trees.”
Lucky gives Dom an exaggerated salute, tosses me a smile, and kicks off his shoes.
He tucks them behind a bush at the base of a large tree and begins climbing with easy confidence.
Though he’s leaner than the other two, his colorful, tattooed arms ripple with muscle, and he whistles cheerfully as he moves.
A long rifle swings from the strap around his neck.
Beau moves toward the cliff. I crane my head up.
Dom is climbing along a nearly invisible path up the cliff face, aiming for a ledge I didn’t notice from front-on. I have a great view of his tight ass as he pulls himself up.
No , bad Eden . He is an ass. You shouldn’t be noticing his.
Wait ! Pulls himself up?
I’ve changed my mind. To call it a “path” is laughable.
It’s a rock-climbing route.
“ I’m going to need my arms for this one, darlin’,” Beau murmurs.
My heart sinks. There’s no way I’ll be able to get up there, not with my arm numb and useless as it currently is—not to mention my injured foot. Beau sets me down, then calloused fingers tilt my chin up to look at him.
I pull back from the intimate touch. He may have been kind to me, but that doesn’t entitle him to touch me any way he wants.
“ Climb on.”
I blink and raise an eyebrow at him.
Amusement dances in his pretty eyes. “ Arms around my neck, legs around my waist. Give me the monkey hold.”
My mouth drops open. “ You can’t carry me while you climb, Beau .”
Something flashes in his eyes that makes me take a step back.
After a tense moment, he mutters, “ I like the way you say my name, darlin’.” I don’t know how to reply to that, but he saves me the trouble. “ Now , you should stop telling me what I can’t do, or I might just get offended. Climb on, you’re no weight at all.”
Still , I hesitate.
“ You didn’t think I’d leave you behind, did you?”
I shake my head. Not in disagreement, but... he doesn’t know me at all. Why should I assume anything of him?
A loud bang echoes through the trees too close to us, and I decide now isn’t the best time for modesty.
I slide my hands up around his neck, hissing at the hot stab of pain in my injured bicep, and shift so my other arm holds most of my weight.
He bends and lifts me, hands hot under my ass.
I wrap my legs around his toned waist, avoiding his eyes as my cheeks heat .
We’re close—closer than I’ve been to a man for years.
Years before the strikes decimated our world, even.
“ Hold on tight, darlin’.” His Southern accent is thick and sweet as honey. “ Don’t want you falling off halfway up.”
I nod against his neck and squeeze closer.
Beau scales the path surprisingly fast, despite my awkward weight. When we reach the ledge, he stands long enough for me to drop my legs, but his hands linger on my hips, holding me close to him for a moment too long. I’m unable to miss his interest—it presses insistently against me.
I stagger backwards, startled, and he gives me a rueful smile.
“ Girl .” There’s even more snap to Dom’s rough voice than before. He kneels behind a large boulder and peers down at the clearing. His heavy gun is nestled in his arms. “ Get down. Sit behind this rock and don’t move.”
It takes me a moment to realize he’s talking to me.
“ It’s Eden ,” I mutter, but I quickly do as he says. Girl ? I’m twenty-seven. I haven’t been a girl for years. It’s even worse than ‘sweetheart.’
Beau settles behind a smaller rock, swinging his gun around and into position.
I peek around to scan the trees. Nothing .
I search the upper branches but can’t see Lucky .
I hope that means they won’t be able to either.
He’s stopped whistling, and I miss the jaunty tune.
As ridiculous as it was to hear amid the gunshots and bellowed insults, it made me feel oddly safe.
All I can hear now is the nearing crash of my hunters, their shouts growing louder and louder.
My anxiety kicks up a notch. I crane my neck around the rock as if a new angle might give me x-ray vision. Everything in me tells me to run.
“ What part of ‘don’t move’ don’t you understand?”
I pull back with a scowl, then wish I hadn’t obeyed quite so fast. Amber eyes, molten with ire, glare at me. Dom’s skin is dusky brown and stubble lines his strong jaw. He really is a beautiful man. Or he would be if he weren’t so cranky.
The crashing sounds stop.
“ Come on, bitch. Enough games,” a loud, nasal voice shouts from below.
Another joins it. “ Come out, come out, wherever you are!”
I swallow hard, hand seeking my knife. More hoots and jeers follow.
I know what will happen if they catch me.
I’ve seen the leftovers of others caught by men like this, and the images still haunt my nightmares.
Unfortunately , most people who survived the lawless years after the strikes aren’t the sort I want to be caught by—which is why I hid myself away in my cave for four years. A woman alone is far too vulnerable.
From my crouch, I look at Dom . His focus is entirely on the clearing in front of him. Why isn’t he doing anything?
“ I know you cunts like to play hard to get, but this is getting ridiculous!” the first voice calls again. Scattered laughter sounds from below. “ You’ll pay for our trouble, slut. You’ll get it in every fucking hole.”
Dom’s lip tenses, almost a curl, his brows lowering with unholy rage.
I tremble. I will use my knife. Anything is better than being taken by them. I rub the hilt between my fingers in a silent, fervent promise.
“ Cover your ears,” Dom mutters.
I ignore him. I’ve heard worse from these men before. It isn’t their words that puts the queasy churn in my insides. This is hopeless. Ridiculous . There are too many of them, they will—
Crack !
The sound of the gunshot beside me is deafening.
Then a flurry of them follows. My ears ring.
I swing my head around, then push my slipping glasses back into position.
Dom’s broad body shifts rhythmically as he fires, but I can’t hear anything.
Releasing my knife, I finally slap my hands over my ears.
Too late.
The ringing reverberates in my skull until even the gunshots are drowned out.
My eyes travel to Beau , who looks grim but calm as he fires. Biting my lip, I close my eyes and try to focus on my breathing.
In .
Out .
Everything will be fine.
In .
Out .
I will use my knife if it comes to it.
In .
Out .
One quick, deep slice across my throat will do it.
In .
Out .
A rough hand shakes my shoulder, and I fumble to find the knife. It only takes me a moment to realize there’s no need.
It’s ... over.
Dom pulls back when my eyes open and he stands up. He waits for a minute, watching the clearing, then nods and looks down at me. He says something, but I shake my head, my ears still ringing. He scowls.
I’m floating with shock. It can’t have been that easy. There were so many of them.
Dom gives me a vexed look and walks toward the “path” back down the cliff. Then Beau is in front of me, forehead crinkled in concern.
I squeeze my eyes shut again. This is too much. Relief and fear and confusion clog my throat with hot tears. They leak between my lids. How can it be over so quickly? I’ve been running for days . At least days . A sob escapes, quickly followed by more I can’t hold in.
Strong arms lift me, and I wrap myself around Beau again without thinking. I cry into his dusty T -shirt on the way down the cliff. When we reach the bottom, I realize I can hear my own soft weeping, and the deafening ringing in my ears finally settles into a soft, background twang.