Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
Most people were in their sleeping bags and bedded down when Nora returned to the cabin. Max was snoring with Bruno curled up at his feet. Susan gave her a tired wave as she read on her eReader.
Nora quietly fed Chance a pouch of wet food because he’d lost weight these past few days and who knew what tomorrow would bring. Wet food was also quieter for him to eat and easier on his insides, which she figured was considerate to her fellow searchers on all counts.
She picked up what was left of her MRE dinner packet and finished it off because she also needed the calories. Then she drained her coffee, which was still warm thanks to her insulated mug.
Cas was asleep on his bedroll, a slight smile tugging at his lips.
Was he dreaming of his Delilah?
Nora had the feeling he might be, and pain stabbed through her chest as sharp as a freshly broken rib.
What must that kind of love and devotion be like?
She doubted she’d ever know.
She lay down and stared at the ceiling. There was no chance of sleep when she had watch duty shortly. Maybe Sebastian would swap with someone else to avoid being alone with her.
She didn’t want to think about Sebastian.
He’d made his position clear, so screw him.
But she already had.
Multiple times.
Her sex clenched at the memory. Emotions filled her even though she didn’t want them to. Where was a bottle of tequila when you needed one?
Thankfully, she had her dog. Chance had curled up between her and the empty mat beside her, and she got a whiff of smelly dogfood breath as he smiled at her.
She scratched his head and stroked a hand over his soft ears.
He was the sweetest, cleverest dog she’d ever known.
He licked her hand and settled into sleep.
She closed her eyes, and her brain immediately went back to the feel of that heavy rock in her hand and the taste of blood on her tongue.
Her eyes sprang open, and her heart pounded.
Fuck.
Her heart thumped.
Was this her life now? Reliving that memory over and over until she died?
She already knew she was damaged, broken. Now she had to relive killing a man who’d tormented her? How was that fair?
She rolled over and buried her face in Chance’s fur, and the dog leaned his weight against her. He didn’t care about her past. He didn’t give a shit she’d been assaulted or had killed someone. She was his person and that was that.
She closed her eyes again, but this time she saw Summer. She opened her eyes once more and stared unseeing at the ceiling. What if it was Summer who’d forced her attacker off a cliff after he’d hurt and threatened her?
That sweet innocent child.
Would she judge her so harshly?
No, Nora would call Summer a goddamned survivor.
Nora had been sweet and innocent once. She didn’t even remember the person she’d been before John Kingston had offered her a roofied soda and she’d woken up in chains.
If it had been Summer in that position, she would have cheered her on in her escape.
Nora frowned in the darkness. Why would she hold the child version of herself to a different standard than Summer Eastman? Mary Eleanor Deacon had fought hard for her survival. Fought like a trapped and injured animal.
Nora was only here now because Mary Eleanor had been a fricking badass. That kid hadn’t broken. She wasn’t unworthy.
And neither was Nora.
Grief dragged at her like hands pulling her underwater.
All these years, she’d suppressed those memories because she’d believed deep down she’d committed a sin, maybe lots of sins because that motherfucker had crawled inside her brain and scrambled her thoughts.
She’d killed him, but he’d continued to have a hold on her. Continued to fuck with her life.
She mourned all the years she’d lost. All the self-isolation and hidden shame. The shame didn’t belong to her, and it was about time it shifted to the man who’d committed the crimes.
Gradually, the weight lifted.
She still needed to talk to the detectives who’d been in charge of her case.
The idea made her ill because there was the chance it would all come out again.
The story, the scandal. Her parents would have to deal with the fact their child had committed a mortal sin.
But she needed to confront the truth and hopefully end the stranglehold the past had on her life.
The door opened, drawing her attention. Ryan and Donnelly came inside. Ryan caught her gaze. He looked miserable, and she wondered if Sebastian had told him why she’d been a bitch to him earlier.
He came over and hunkered down beside her. Whispered close to her ear. “I can do the next watch if you want to get some sleep. I’m not tired. Probably won’t sleep for a while anyway.”
His kindness caught her off guard. Was it because Sebastian wanted to avoid her, or was Ryan genuinely being nice?
“My idea. Not his.” He’d read her mind.
She sat up onto her elbows. Chance snored lightly despite the fact Ryan was only inches away. Her poor dog was exhausted.
It felt like cowardice, but maybe she deserved a break. The way Mary Eleanor deserved a break.
“If it helps, I’ve never seen him this tied up in knots about a woman before.” Ryan’s intense blue eyes were on hers trying to convey something, but she wasn’t sure what.
She swallowed and nodded. What did it matter if Sebastian was tied in knots? He’d let her down. “I appreciate you not telling anyone else about…” she whispered.
He frowned down at the bare floorboards. “Not everything is everyone’s business. The past or the present.” He looked back up, and she saw knowledge and pain clearly written in the depths of his eyes.
She bit her lip and nodded. “He won’t get pissed?”
“At you?”
She shrugged.
“Never. At me? Abso-fucking-lutely. It’s what I live for.”
She smiled reluctantly. “Okay. Try not to get eaten by a wolf.”
“I grew up around here, remember? It’s more likely to be a grizzly.”
“There’s a cranky mountain lion out there somewhere who looked as if he might like a taste of human flesh.”
“I’ll keep my eyes peeled, but I wouldn’t mind going a few rounds with a feisty cougar.” He wiggled his brows theatrically.
And she wondered why she couldn’t have fallen for this guy instead of the dark and broody Sebastian Black.
“Thanks.”
“My pleasure, Ranger Deacon.” A flash of empathy and regret passed over his features, the only acknowledgment he made that he knew about her background. The only one she’d accept.
He climbed to his feet and headed out the door.
She turned on her side and put her hand on her dog’s soft flank. Closed her eyes. Pushed a certain dark-eyed, dark-haired nitwit of a man out of her mind. Eventually sleep claimed her.