Chapter 26 The Present
THE PRESENT
CAIDEN
I wish I never went on this fucking trip.
The bleeding monster within me fought to escape, to unleash years worth of rage. Being around Amelia brought that shit out of me.
I forced the beast down, suffocating it. No good came from bleeding out in front of her. She was watching me. Always fucking watching. Probably waiting for me to snap, to give her a reason to bolt and leave me here to rot.
Every branch in this hellish forest had it out for me. We were both soaked through, tripping and gasping in the undergrowth, but Amelia managed to do it with more whining than any human had a right to.
And of course, I was the one who got stuck leading.
If this had been the Army, I would’ve left her on the first day. Let the crows pick her bones. But here I was, bushwhacking through brush, and every time I heard her stumble I had to stop myself from spinning around and screaming. Every single time.
Resentment pulsed under my skin, hot and corrosive. I wanted to fucking disappear. Or push her down a ravine and walk away. Either worked.
She was behind me, breathing too loud, boots slurping in the mud. I could feel her eyes burning into my back, judging me, waiting for me to fail. Typical. Always waiting to see me fuck up so she could crow about it.
“You know you’re not a Navy SEAL, right?” she snapped. Even her voice grated. “You can slow down. I’m not dying to impress you.”
I clenched my jaw. My fingers curled tight around a low-hanging branch. I nearly tore it off the damn tree. “If you’d keep moving instead of bitching, we’d be halfway out of this forest by now.”
“Oh, so we’re taking the scenic route so you can show off? Impressive. Really, Caiden.”
I gritted my teeth and kept walking, pretending I didn’t hear the faint tremor in her voice. Fear? Or just loathing for me? Didn’t matter. I’d take either.
The path wound deeper into a mess of ferns and rotting logs, wet with old rain. I moved like I was back on patrol, every sense tuned up, waiting for disaster in the shadows.
And all I heard was her, huffing and cursing and falling behind.
“You want a medal?” I threw over my shoulder. “Try keeping up.”
“You want to be a martyr, just say so. I’ll be right here, collecting your bones after you drop dead.”
Red flashed behind my eyes. The pressure built in my skull. But my voice stayed cool. “Don’t tempt me. I’d rather lose myself out here than listen to your voice one more second.”
She mumbled something, too soft to catch. I didn’t care. Wind slapped through the trees. I lost the line of the trail twice, but I never let on. I just doubled down, always forward, even when it ended in a tangle of roots that almost took my fucking ankle off.
Pride wouldn’t let me slow down. Not for her. Not for anybody. Even when my legs buckled and the world spun, I kept plowing ahead, just to prove a point. Couldn’t be weak. Not in front of her.
But when she tripped, crashed to her knees behind me, I spun so fast my spine cracked. Instinct. Rage.
I caught her wrist before she hit the dirt. Dug my fingers in, hard enough to bruise. “Get up.” My voice barely sounded human. More hiss than sound.
She jerked her arm from my grasp, eyes flashing like she’d rather kill me than thank me. “Don’t fucking touch me, Caiden.” Her lips trembled. Pathetic. I should have let her fall.
But I didn’t.
She pushed up onto wobbly knees, hair wild, cheeks flushed, veins standing out in her neck. Every inch of her screamed weakness, and I hated her for it. Hated myself more. Because for all the venom, I still couldn’t just leave her behind. Not after everything. Not now. Not ever.
I turned away, shoulders bunched tight, fists clenched at my sides. I wanted to put my arm through a tree. Instead, I just ground my boots deeper into the muck, shredding the next few yards until the trail dissolved into nothing. “Move,” I muttered without turning. “Unless you want to camp here.”
She stumbled after me, a curse rattling in her throat. I could feel the heat of her glare knifing holes through my shoulder blades. Still, she followed. Always.
The world shrank to mud, roots, her breath behind me, her boots sucking at every step. Time went feral, lost shape. A delirium of trees, darkness, the ache in my lower back and a hunger that bit down to the bone and never let go.
She bitched. She always bitched.
“Slow down, monster. Not all of us are built for this.” There was blood on her shin, seeping into her sock. She limped, but she wouldn’t give it up, not in front of me. That stubbornness almost made me want to grin.
Almost.
“You never quit, do you,” I shot back. “Even when you should.”
“I’m not quitting. I just hate you.”
“Right back at you.”
The brush thickened, lashing her face. I didn’t warn her. Let the branches make their marks. At least they were honest about what they were.
Our energy bled out with every step.
Sweat stung my eyes. My lungs felt raw. The silence between us was an old, mean dog, gnawing at the ankles until one of us broke.
She tripped again. I didn’t reach for her this time.
Mercy was wasted on Amelia Langston.
But I kept checking, every ten steps, to make sure she hadn’t vanished. No matter how much I told myself I didn’t care, that she could rot for all I gave a shit.
She belonged to me, in this. Suffering, survival, hell or whatever came next. I couldn’t stop protecting her if I tried.
She scraped her wrist on a rock. I heard her breath hitch and clench, could smell the blood before I saw it. She glared at me, daring me to comment.
I didn’t. Too tired for clever. Too wrecked for anything but trudging through the next patch of black tangle, the next wall of brambles.
The deeper we went, the darker it got. I felt her getting slower, weaker. I slowed, too, barely. Had to. If she broke down for good, I was fucked. There was nothing else out here. Just us and the endless, suffocating need.
I slowed up at a boulder, pausing, pretending to scan the terrain. Really just waiting for her to catch up without having to admit it. She stumbled into view, raw-boned and pale, arms scratched to shit, hair a wild halo. She could barely look at me without her lips curling.
“Getting tired, princess?” The words slid out. I wanted them to draw blood.
She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “Maybe if you stopped acting like a mountain goat on steroids, we wouldn’t be lost.”
I grinned, wolfish. “If you’d kept up in the first place, we’d be drinking beer at the resort. Instead, we’re watching you break down in real time. It’s a show.”
She slumped to the ground, back against the cold stone. I didn’t know if she was crying or just too empty to care. Her chest shivered with every breath. Watching her fold in on herself did something to me. Not pity, but close, like the ghost of it, sifted through contempt.
I wanted to leave her. Just walk on, let her rot in the green. But something in me locked up. I hated it. Hated how much I kept checking her, listening to make sure her breathing didn’t stop.
I crouched beside her, my shadow blotting out the fading sun. She flinched, lip curling. “Don’t touch me.”
“Wasn’t planning on it.” But my hand hovered anyway. Fuck.
She stared up at me, eyes glassy, empty. I nearly spat on the dirt, just to break the spell. “You want to survive or not? ‘Cause if you’re giving up, let me know.”
The corners of her mouth twitched. “You’d want that, wouldn’t you?”
“Not really.” Each word was a stone in my gut. “If you die, they’ll blame me. I’m not going back to that fucking town with your ghost hanging off my neck.”
She tried to laugh, but it sounded like choking. “You’d probably just kick my corpse into a ditch.”
I imagined it. The weight of her, limp, weightless. The anger that rushed in at the thought. “Don’t tempt me.”
Our eyes locked for a second. I hated how it made me feel. Like I could break her. Like I could save her.
The thought made my molars grind.
I straightened, looking away. “Get up. We don’t have time for your melodrama.
” I expected her to spit some bullshit, slap back with some sarcastic retort, but for once she just sat there, sucking air, eyes locked on my boots like she wanted to die at my feet.
Good. At least then I’d have proof I’d done something right.
She finally got her balance and stood, wobbling, hair falling around her face in a mess of snarls. “You just love bossing people around, don’t you?” Not her best, but whatever.
“Better than watching you wallow in self-pity.” I turned and pushed on, not giving her the satisfaction of looking back, but every step I could feel her behind me. Always behind. My own shadow might as well have been her.
Then she stumbled. Again. Of course.
“Careful. Hate to see you brains-out on a rock before I get the chance to kill you myself.”
She glared, teeth bared. “Fuck you, Caiden.”
“Try it. I dare you.” My lips curled. “You’re pathetic when you’re like this.” I kept my voice low, almost gentle. “Was it always an act, or did life just grind you down?”
She stopped, chest heaving. “You don’t know anything about me. You think you do, but you never did.”
I stepped in, crowding her against a tree, eyes boring into hers. “Bullshit. I know everything about you. You’re an open wound, Langston. Always bleeding for someone to notice.”
Her jaw clenched. “You’re projecting. That’s what your dad did, wasn’t it? I hear he left bruises where words wouldn’t do.”
Ice slid through my veins. I slammed my palm against the bark beside her head, the thud snapping through the silence. Her breath caught.
“You want to talk about fathers? I’ll bury you under stories that’ll make yours look like a fucking episode of Sesame Street,” I ground out, leaning in until my shadow swallowed her expression.
I watched her throat work, saw the fight spit hot behind her eyes, but she didn’t flinch. She never fucking flinched.