Chapter 13
Thirteen
Her betrayal—her secrets—stung.
She didn’t owe him anything, not really.
Aw…They were supposed to be a team.
At least in his mind. Shoot, he’d been a fool.
Liam’s boots scraped against the rocky trail, each step grinding out his frustration.
The canyon wall rose on his left—the uneven edge like jagged sentinels against the lavender sky, their surfaces rough and unforgiving.
The canyon dropped away on his right—an empty void.
The light was fading to the point he could no longer make out the details at the bottom.
She hadn’t planned to tell him—that much was crystal clear by the look in her eyes. Shocked. Raw. Stripped. He’d thought they were building something real. That kiss had felt like truth, like promises neither of them dared speak out loud.
He’d let himself fall. Hard. Convinced himself he was seeing her heart when all he’d been seeing was whatever facade she needed to keep him as her personal bodyguard. Another layer of deception in an endless stack of secrets.
His instincts had screamed warnings from day one, and he’d ignored every single red flag because—what? Because she was beautiful? Because she kissed like she meant it?
“Liam, wait!” Her voice sliced through the night air.
He didn’t stop. Shoulders rigid, fists clenched so tight his pulse thrummed through them. How could he have been so blind? A girl didn’t have the mob after her because she was innocent of something…He’d thought she was a victim.
No. She’d dragged him into this mess of hers without a care about what might happen to him.
Just like Christiana. What if he’d been climbing below her? She would have taken him out in her fall. In her recklessness—
“Liam!”
Wow, he was stupid. He kept walking.
“Hey, look!”
A boy’s voice—high, excited—yanked Liam from his spiral. He spun toward the cluster of teenagers scrambling to their feet, pointing into the canyon’s belly. The bright colors were now muted gray.
His gaze followed theirs, scanning the shadows below. The canyon floor stretched wide, patchwork of boulders and sparse vegetation.
Liam’s eyes found them then. Three figures moving quickly along a trail, maybe half a mile away. They pushed like something was chasing them, or they were chasing someone else.
His pulse spiked, breath turning shallow.
“Maybe it’s our parents!” The girl with glasses was waving, hands tucked into her sleeves for warmth. “They could’ve sent search and rescue!”
“We didn’t tell anyone where we were going.” Baseball-cap kid squinted into the distance. “Has to be someone else.”
“Get down!” Liam’s command came out harsh, urgent. His hand sliced through air as he motioned the teens behind cover. “Don’t let them see you.”
“Why?” This from Brian.
“Just do it!” Liam grabbed J.J. and shoved him down. Brian hit his knees, frowning but obeying. They sprawled behind a boulder, the rock’s bulk hiding their teenage silhouettes.
Liam crouched beside them as DeAnna flattened herself on the ground, eyes wide.
“What’s happening? Why are you freaking out?”
“Who are they?” Brian’s whisper barely stirred the air. Their lone flashlight pressed against his chest. “Why can’t we signal them? They might have food!”
The teens had no idea. No clue about the Bratva, about why he and Nimue were running through a canyon like fugitives. And he wasn’t about to enlighten them now.
The figures grew closer, at such a speed they had to be near running.
“We don’t know who it is.” His voice stayed low, controlled. “Stay down.”
“What if it’s help?” One of the girls motioned toward Brian’s flashlight. “We’re dying of thirst, and—”
“No.” Liam’s hand shot out, clamping down on Brian’s wrist before the kid could raise their beacon. “Keep it off.”
His gaze snapped back down the trail, to the ledge where Nimue stood silhouetted against pale sky, watching the hikers.
Tension radiated from every line of her body. She looked at Liam. “I don’t think—”
“Nim, get—”
A deep grinding sound split the air, a roar that filled the canyon—a sound so deep Liam felt it in his chest, vibrating through the ground beneath his boots. The rocky ledge where Nimue stood began to crack. Stone splintering. Crumbling.
“Nim!”
Her scream pierced the night—sharp, desperate, terrified.
Then, just like that, the ledge gave way, taking her with it into the canyon’s hungry mouth.
No.
Everything inside him shattered.
Nim was gone.
Fire consumed her.
Pure agony shooting through her side, stealing her breath as she sprawled on the narrow ledge like a broken doll. Her body shook from impact—adrenaline, shock, pain all mixing into one brutal cocktail.
What just happened?
Her mind scrambled to catch up. She’d been standing on solid rock, staring at distant flashlights, lips parting to tell Liam she didn’t think they were Bratva. Then his face had gone white. The ground had betrayed her. And gravity had taken over.
For one terrifying heartbeat, she’d been certain death was rushing up to meet her.
The fall had been brief but vicious. Her body twisting through space, ankle wrenching, ribs slamming into jagged stone that felt like it wanted to crack her open.
She lay still, forcing her racing thoughts to take inventory.
The pain centered on her ribs and ankle—throbbing, but not so bad that it meant broken bones.
Then again, the lack of pain could be the adrenaline talking.
She managed a shallow breath, testing. No bones poking through skin. No blood pooling beneath her.
Bruised ribs. Maybe cracked. Swollen ankle that screamed “Don’t even think about walking.”
She’d live.
But probably without Liam in her life.
Stupid, stupid, stupid. She should’ve told Liam about the gold bar immediately.
Then she’d compounded her mistakes by standing too close to an unstable edge after a flash flood. Brilliant, Nimue. Really brilliant.
Canyon Dangers 101: Solid-looking rock often sat on soil ready to give way without warning. She was living proof now, sprawled on this ledge like some cautionary tale.
Worse—those flashlights were still out there. If they belonged to the Bratva, she was trapped. Helpless.
“I’m okay!”
The words came out as a croak instead of a shout, effort stabbing through her ribs like a knife.
Real convincing.
Faces appeared above against the darkening sky just before a flashlight hit her in the face. Ahh. She closed her eyes.
“She’s not dead.” A voice she’d guess was Michelle’s spoke, a little shaky. “We totally thought you were dead.”
Join the club.
“Get back!” Liam’s bark at the teenagers carried real authority. “We don’t know how unstable the edge is!”
“I’m fine.” Okay, she didn’t sound in the least fine. She tried sitting up. Pain exploded through her side and ankle, forcing her back down with a gasp that made stars dance behind her eyelids.
Maybe not fine.
The kids scrambled back just before Liam’s face appeared—pale, tense. The day’s light was near gone, but she could still make out his eyes and the way they locked on hers with an intensity that made her chest flutter despite everything. Oh, she was a disaster.
In seconds, he was over the edge. Half climbing, half controlled sliding down the loose soil, boots finding purchase with the confidence of someone who’d done this before.
The girl with glasses started crying.
Perfect. These kids were terrified enough without her dramatic cliff dive adding to their panic.
Liam crouched beside her, hands gentle but methodical as he checked her head and neck, fingers probing for injuries. “Where does it hurt?” His voice was even, but his eyes held fear that twisted something deep in her chest. He still cared for her.
So maybe her fall wasn’t all tragic. Heat crept up her neck. Even through the pain, his touch felt too good. Made her want things she had no business wanting after her lies.
“My ribs are probably bruised. And this ankle…” She tested it slightly, winced. “Not happening.” She looked up at him. “Liam. About the gold—I should’ve told you immediately. I wanted to. I was planning—”
“Not important right now.” His hands moved down her spine, applying light pressure, checking for spinal damage. “No apparent head, neck, or spine injuries, but we need a C-collar and a backboard.”
“You have some hidden EMT certification?”
“Boy Scout badge. First aid.” A hint of humor colored his tone.
And there he was. She grinned at him.
He gave her a wry smile, but then his gaze drifted past her, and though the light was almost gone now, she could have sworn his face went ashen. She followed his look.
The ledge ended three feet away. Fifty-foot drop into black nothing.
Her stomach plummeted all over again. Three feet. She’d missed death by three feet.
She pressed her hand over his, her fingers ice cold against his warmth. “I’m okay.”
He nodded—curt, jaw tight—then examined her ankle. “Can you move it?”
“I don’t know.”
“Can I try?”
“Anything to get me off this ledge.”
When he straightened it, lightning shot up her leg. Tears sprang to her eyes, but she bit her lip, held her breath.
“That ankle’s not walking anywhere.” He helped her shift against a rock, leaned close to brush hair from her face.
“Stay put. Back in a minute.”
Like she had a choice.
He climbed back up, soil shifting under his boots, but he made it look easy. Moments later, Noel—the girl with the messy French braid—scrambled down clutching a half-empty water bottle. She seemed to be the leader of the group, along with Brian.
“Where’s Liam? You shouldn’t be here.”
“He doesn’t know—he took off. I’m not sure where. But I got trained as a first responder at my high school’s EVIT program. You need water and a blanket to keep you from going into shock.”
Brave. But her nervous eyes kept flicking to that drop three feet away.
“Thanks.” Nimue accepted the bottle but only sipped. This was probably their last water. “You don’t have to babysit me.”
“Another first-responder rule—don’t leave the patient alone.”
Nimue closed her eyes, head falling back against stone. Pain pulsed with every heartbeat. If those flashlights belonged to Teresa’s people, she was finished. Trapped on a ledge while killers closed in.
“We saw you guys kiss.”
She opened her eyes, met Noel’s, just visible in the disappearing light. The girl smiled at her. Sweet.
“I think he’s mad at me.”
Noel tilted her head. “Because you fell?”
“Because I kept something from him.”
Understanding flickered in the girl’s eyes. “How long have you two been together?”
“What?” Nimue’s eyes snapped open. “We’re not…I mean, maybe…”
Before she could untangle that mess, Liam reappeared at the top of the cliff, his form silhouetted against the sky that was a deep purple now. “We made a stretcher.” A beat, then, “Noel—what the—are you serious right now? Get up here.”
Noel stood up.
“No, stay there.”
“Make up your mind, ranger.”
He lay on the ground and extended his arms. “Guys, hold my feet.”
Somewhere in the now almost-complete darkness, the teenagers held his life in their grip.
He stretched his arms down and Noel reached up, grabbed his hand. She scrambled up the cliffside, scattering dust and pebbles onto the ledge.
Nimue covered her face with her arms, turned her head.
“Hang tight, Nim. I’m coming down.”
She closed her eyes. In a moment, he landed beside her. He wore what seemed to be an empty backpack.
“Okay, listen. This is going to hurt. But we need to get you off this ledge.”
“Whatever you have to do.”
His mouth tightened.
It turned out that “whatever” meant picking her up and maneuvering her onto his shoulders. Leaning into the rock while she reached up to grab Brian’s hand.
It meant her scream echoing through the canyon as many hands lifted her as if she weighed nothing and settled her on solid ground.
It meant Liam scrambling up after her, breathing hard.
“What now?”
“We pray that those lights belong to rescuers.” He pointed to the distant hikers, who now had flashlights. “Not…anyone else.”
“And if they aren’t?”
She stared at the beams cutting through the night like blades, moving with purpose along the distant trail. These weren’t casual hikers. These people were searching.
Hunting.
If it was the Bratva, her injuries had just signed their death warrants. She couldn’t run.
“You and the kids should go. Now.”
“I’m not leaving you. Final.” His hand settled on her shoulder—warm but firm. “Drop that thought. Right now.”
“I should’ve told you about the gold immediately. I was going to tell you when we got interrupted.” The words tumbled out. “I found it in that cave. I’m sorry. I just didn’t know if—”
“It’s okay.” His eyes met hers.
And though it was now fully dark, the full moon had begun to rise like a silver line along his features. And even in the dim light, she saw forgiveness there. Or at least the start of forgiveness, and that softness in his face eased some of her guilt.
But also distance. Wariness.
He no longer fully trusted her.
And that cut deeper than any pain in her broken body.
“Now we’re going to get creative,” he said. “Brian, bring me that deflated backpack.”
Brian handed her not her own but one of the teens’ camping backpacks. In fact, J.J. appeared wearing her pack.
Liam opened the arm straps as far as they would go and then fitted her legs through the straps, rolling her so that the backpack was behind her. He then put the straps over her shoulders.
“How are you—”
And then he crouched in front of her, put the shoulder straps over his shoulders so she was sandwiched next to his back, and stood up.
The straps held her legs, her arms around his chest. She leaned her head against the back of his neck.
“This is cozy.”
He grunted as he adjusted the straps. “You okay?”
Yes. No…“Thank you, Liam.”
“Let’s go,” he said, his voice tight.
“Liam. You can’t walk all the way back carrying me.”
“Watch me,” he said, and started hiking.