Chapter 10 #2
Before he could think better of it, he was turning to her, touching her cheek, moving her gaze to meet his. “Nim. I would really love to kiss you right now. But I’m terrified of losing you. I can’t let myself get distracted by what I want when I need to keep you alive first.”
“What do you want?” The question came out breathless.
Everything. Forever. You.
But he could tell she wasn’t ready for that level of honesty. Maybe he wasn’t either.
His whole life had been about charging full speed at whatever grabbed his interest. Maybe it was time to take things one step at a time.
He leaned forward, pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. “I want to get through this together. Then ask you on a proper date.”
She looked up at him and smiled softly. “I’d like that.”
Yes.
He pulled back, standing to check the rain. And maybe put distance between him and his terrible desire to kiss her.
The rain still bulleted the ground, tiny rivulets becoming channels of water running along the canyon. A mist rose from the earth, turning the world ethereal. “Eat something. We’ll move when this lets up.”
And then…then they’d keep running.
Because he couldn’t shake the feeling they were almost out of time.
Noah’s Jeep rumbled into his usual spot, engine growling like his mood.
Pathetic.
That’s what he’d called himself last night—along with a few other choice names.
And now he’d only made it worse. He took in his reflection in the rearview mirror and flinched.
What had he been thinking?
The short hair—buzzed to military precision on the sides after his kitchen-scissors disaster—made him look like a stranger. At least the barber had been able to save five or six inches on top. But his clean-shaven jaw felt naked, exposed in a way that had nothing to do with the morning chill.
He’d planned to shower and crash after yesterday’s chaos with the injured kid. Simple plan. But Eden’s jab about his “Sasquatch” appearance had worked its way under his skin like a splinter. A hairorist? Really?
And then she’d mentioned Eddie.
Eddie. Flirting with Meg.
Next thing he knew, he was hacking away with kitchen shears like some deranged barber. Thirty minutes later, his head looked like he’d stuck his finger in an electrical socket. The emergency barber run at eleven p.m. had salvaged what it could, but the damage was done.
Exposed. Vulnerable.
Everything he’d sworn he wouldn’t be again.
He’d even chickened out of coffee with Meg this morning. Sent some lame text about being tired. Real smooth, Noah. Two years of building a friendship, and he was hiding like a teenager with a bad haircut.
Which, partially, was true.
The morning air bit at his newly bare neck as he climbed out and headed for the door, keys jangling in his hand.
“Excuse me, sir!” Eden’s voice cut across the parking lot, all professional courtesy. “We don’t open for another twenty—”
He turned, dangling the keys with a pointed look.
Eden stuttered to a stop. Her eyes went wide. Mouth dropped open as if she’d seen a ghost.
“C’mon.” Noah pushed through the door, running a hand over the foreign landscape of his scalp. “It’s not that different.”
“Uh…Yes. Yes, it is.” Eden scrambled after him. “What possessed you? Wait—”
Her lips tugged into a grin. “Was this because of what I said about Eddie hitting on Meg?”
“No.” He shot her a scowl as he headed for his desk. His pack hit the floor with more force than necessary.
“It totally was.” Eden clapped her hands before grabbing her phone.
The camera clicked before he could put a hand up, shout a protest. “Oh, that brooding look is perfect. You look hot, Noah. If I didn’t see you as a brother, I’d be half in love.
I expect the number of girls hitting on you to double.
Don’t be shocked if the girls start lining up. ”
He grunted and dropped into his chair. “Girls don’t hit on me.”
“You’re adorably clueless.” Eden leaned against his doorframe, practically vibrating with glee. “Has Meg seen you yet?”
“No.” His computer screen flickered to life, giving him something to stare at besides Eden’s knowing smirk. “She wouldn’t care. What’s the weather report?”
Eden’s mouth opened—probably to launch into another Meg-related interrogation—then snapped shut. Smart girl.
“Nothing new on the storms. But Liam’s a no-show for his seven o’clock shift. No call, no text, nothing.”
Noah’s jaw clenched. This was exactly why he hated being the boss. People problems. He pulled out his phone, scrolling to Liam’s message from yesterday.
Liam
Going off grid for a few days. Can’t explain. Sorry.
From Teague, he’d expect this kind of recklessness, even irresponsibility. But Liam? The guy was solid. Reliable.
“I’ll handle it.” His palm scraped across his jaw, hitting nothing but skin. Still weird.
“Hey!” Teague’s head popped through the doorway, crackling with his usual energy. “I found Liam’s Bronco, and something’s—whoa.”
The man’s grin faltered, eyes going wide.
“Your hair.”
“Yes, I cut it.” Noah’s fingers found the bridge of his nose, squeezing. “Not a federal case. What about the Bronco?”
Teague shot a glance at Eden—some silent communication that made Noah’s shoulders tense. When Teague refocused, his usual grin had vanished.
“His Bronco is parked by that weird camper bus. Liam’s gear’s missing but his phone was left on the seat. By the looks of the camper, seems they left in a hurry.”
Noah frowned. “You went inside the camper?”
“Let’s say I didn’t.” Teague’s eyes slid sideways. “For plausible deniability. But I scouted around, found his climbing rope disappearing down the rim. Set up for a rappel into the canyon.”
A pen appeared in Noah’s hand, tapping rapid-fire against his desk. “He knows protocol. Canyon descents require documentation. This doesn’t—”
The door swung open.
Meg stepped through, dark hair pulled back in that practical ponytail he’d memorized. Her eyes locked onto his face and—
Oh, she looked angry.
And then her gaze swept over his short hair and bare jaw and lingered just long enough to make his chest tight before she met his eyes. “You bailed on coffee.”
Four words. Delivered flat. But he hadn’t missed the hurt underneath.
“One sec.” His throat had gone desert dry.
He turned toward Teague, but both of his rangers were watching him and Meg like they’d stumbled onto the season finale of their favorite show.
Great. Everyone just calm down.
“Any sign of that woman—Nimue?”
Teague’s voice dropped, urgency creeping in. “I think they’re together, and with this storm”—he motioned to the window where trees were bending over in the wind—“they may need help. Flash flooding’s serious business. My gut says we need to find them.”
“Can’t call in SAR for a gut feeling.”
“Not SAR.” Teague stepped closer. “I want to go after them.”
“Go after them?” Noah’s voice rose. “We don’t even know where they went.”
“They rappelled into the canyon with zero prep.” Teague’s expression matched the tightness in Noah’s chest. “Liam’s too good for that kind of rookie mistake.
He’d only do something that reckless if something worse was chasing them.
He said Nimue acted weird after her bus got trashed. What if it wasn’t those teenagers?”
The pieces clicked. “If they’re running…” Noah said.
Teague met his gaze. “There’s only one place to cross the river.”
“The bridge.” The plan clicked. Phantom Ranch. Closed for renovations, but they’d have an emergency phone. Except. “How’s chasing them supposed to help?” The question came out tighter than he meant it to. “We could make whatever they’re dealing with worse.”
Teague’s mouth tightened around the edges, his voice dropping. “I found blood in the bus.”
Noah’s stomach plummeted. “The bus you weren’t in?”
Teague gave him a look, then nodded. “It was soaked into one of the cushions. Fresh blood. A lot of it. They might be hurt.”
Meg stepped forward. “Fresh, fresh? Or a day or two old, fresh?”
“Why?” Noah turned to her, frowning.
“I stitched Nimue’s hand yesterday.” Meg’s weight shifted from foot to foot. “Off the record.”
Off the record. What she was admitting could cost her her job.
“She wouldn’t let me help if I logged her in the system.”
Noah exchanged a look with Teague.
“There’s more.” Meg’s words tumbled faster.
“Liam brought me a package to X-ray. Something left in her camper after the break-in. When it came back clean—just garbage—they both looked relieved. I don’t know what they were afraid of, but it wasn’t good.
Teague’s right. They’re running from something dangerous. ”
“Again—how does chasing them help?” He was beginning to feel ganged up on. “We’re not equipped for—”
“I don’t know exactly.” Teague leaned forward, palms flat on the desk. “But they’re undersupplied, and I can’t shake this feeling—”
“I agree.” Eden’s voice cut through. “We need to go.”
Noah shot her a look that could melt steel. Not helping.
She shrugged. “What? Schedule’s clear, Hemsworth.”
“Hemsworth? Really?”
She offered a shrug. “You have to admit you have the whole Ragnarok transformation thing going on.”
“I’m off duty.” Meg seemed to be biting back a smile as she scrolled through her phone. “If Nimue reopened those stitches, she’ll need medical attention.”
Noah blew out a breath, lifted his hand to rake it through his hair—grabbed nothing but air.
Right. Short now. “Am I the only one who remembers the storm that’s still tearing through as we speak?
High winds, unstable trails—you really think we can outrun rising water? We’d end up needing SAR ourselves.”
“Water’s flowing toward the Colorado.” Teague straightened.
“Satellite footage says it will be past us within the hour. If we wait until it stops, it’ll be ahead of us, not behind.
If they’re fine, it’s just a day hike. We’re all strong hikers.
And with the flooding, there could be other people in trouble. ”