by Leah Ashton
Beth sighed with relief as the ties gave way, but Todd’s hand tightened, and she didn’t move her arms. Still standing behind her, his thumbs skimmed over the indentations on her skin where the ties had been, back and forth, again and again.
He leant forward and began to speak, murmuring against her ear. “You are—”
But Beth couldn’t stand here like this – with two dead men on the ground in front of her, another in the mine, and all this adrenalin and so many questions. She shook her arms free and turned to face him.
She’d meant to ask him how he’d gotten free, or where he’d found the knife, or even, what do we do now?
But instead, she just found herself staring at him.
She hadn’t been able to look at him like this – this close – for way too long, and now that she had the opportunity she couldn’t look away.
And it was like it had been at the bar: intense and overwhelming.
She studied his face, hating the bruises that coloured his cheeks and jaw in shades of grey and purple, and the abrasions where fists had broken skin. But his eyes were still that flawless clear and direct golden hazel. And his lips – his lips, they were miraculously untouched.
He was staring at her too, his gaze also roaming her face – probably a makeup smeared and dusty face – but she didn’t care. She was alive, he was alive, and electricity still crackled between them just as it had last night.
No, actually, that wasn’t correct. Last night, their connection had been all about lust and physical attraction. This was different. This was all that but more – a new connection, built on trust and survival and collaboration. They’d just survived something together.
In most ways this man was a total stranger, but she’d just trusted him with her life, and he’d trusted her with his.
That was … big.
Now it felt the most natural thing in the world to reach for him – for this man she trusted with her life – to curl her hands behind his neck and press her lips against his. To kiss him felt primal – an instinctive, elemental act that was all about feeling alive, and feeling so, so good.
She’d shocked him, she knew, and for a moment she thought he’d pull away and insist on having the conversation she knew they should be having. But right now, she wasn’t too worried about what just happened, or what would be happening next. They’d get to all that soon enough.
But first, she needed to kiss this man. And she needed him to kiss her.
Thankfully it only took him seconds to clearly agree with her plan, and he kissed her back.
And how he kissed her. This was a kiss that just minutes ago had not been guaranteed to ever happen again, and that knowledge was in every touch of his mouth against hers, and in the almost desperate way he drew her close.
Beth kissed him just as desperately, loving having her mouth on his, her body pressed against his, her fingers tangled in his hair. He was so solid and strong, and warm and alive, and that was all that mattered.
But eventually, she ended the kiss and took a step back.
She’d trusted this man with her life, but she knew nothing about him. Nothing at all.
“Your name’s not really Todd, is it?” she said.
“No,” Damon said, smiling at the woman in front of him.
He’d just killed two men, and yet he stood here in the middle of the desert, grinning at this sexy, remarkable woman like a teenager. Kissing Beth did not get old.
She narrowed her eyes. “Please tell me you’re not a bikie. I really want to believe I’m not stupid enough to have my only one-night stand with a criminal.”
Damon blinked at this. She’d never had a one-night stand, yet she went home with him?
“Please?” she said. “Please tell me you’re some super spy or something. I’m hopeful, given what you just did to that guy.” She gestured wildly with one hand behind her, not turning to look at the bleeding out corpse only a few metres behind her.
“No,” he said, and her face fell. He laughed. “Don’t panic. I’m no bikie, just not a super spy either. But I am a police officer. Senior Constable Damon Nyhuis, Elite SWAT Undercover Operations.”
“A cop?” she said. “Oh, thank goodness.”
But Damon’s smile fell away. “Maybe you would’ve been safer with a bikie,” he said. “I am so sorry for what’s happening. It’s my fault, my fucking fault for not paying attention, for leading you into that ambush, and—”
“Wait,” she interrupted, her face suddenly pale. “I just remembered something. You called me Miss Banfield last night, didn’t you? I’d forgotten, or it didn’t matter, but just now – when you told me your name …” She took a step back, and then another. “I remember you,” she said. “But you look so different. It must have been my first year teaching after graduation. You were skinny then, weren’t you? Not as tall as you are now. And you were so smart, but too busy causing trouble to study.”
She looked away, out past the mallee trees and to the scrubby landscape beyond. Her forehead was creased with frown lines, her lips in a straight line.
“Guilty,” he said. “That was me. I was a piece of shit at school.”
Her gaze swung back to his. “No, you were not,” she said fiercely. “You were always respectful to me, I noticed. You were all bluster and show – the tough guy for your peers.”
“You’re crushing my teenage ego,” Damon said, with the hint of a smile, but he needed to be clear. “It wasn’t all show,” he continued. “I did some stupid, stupid things that I regret.”
She shrugged, then looked him up and down. “Yet you ended up working for Elite SWAT. I can’t imagine that’s a job just anyone is allowed to do. You couldn’t have been so bad.”
No, his past couldn’t so easily be dismissed. He had been bad. Very bad. But also – lucky.
Very, very lucky. But he hadn’t grasped the second chance he’d been given to get killed by Notechis in the middle of the goldfields, so he wasn’t about to explain any of this to Beth right now.
“We need to get moving,” he said roughly. “We’re not safe yet. Gaff will be back soon.”
Her eyes widened. “What do you mean we’re not safe? Can’t we just call the police now? Or call Elite SWAT, I guess? And that’s that. This is over.”
“Maybe,” he said. He stepped past her and then knelt by Goatee to check his pockets for a mobile phone.
He located one, but just as he suspected, it was useless to them.
“No signal,” he explained. “We’ll need to go back to the Homestead to see if we can find a landline or satellite phone, or a vehicle to get us into town.”
“Back to the house?”
He grabbed Goatee’s Glock and shoved it into the waistband of his jeans, then stood up. “Yes,” he said. “It’s our best option, but we need to be quick.”
Beth shook her head. “I thought this was over,” she said, her voice with just the hint of a wobble. “This was supposed to be over now and we’d be safe.”
“Sorry Beth,” he said, “but we’re not safe while we’re at Tiger Snake Station, and especially while no one knows we’re here. No one is going to come rescue us, not just yet, anyway.”
She straightened her shoulders. “So, we need to keep on rescuing ourselves,” she said firmly, that wobble completely gone – that moment of vulnerability erased.
“Yes,” he said. “Still trust me?”
She nodded immediately. “Of course.” She met his gaze, her blue eyes sharp and direct. She lifted her chin. “And do you trust me?”
In the SUV on the way here, he’d told her he’d do all he could to get her out of this situation – all very protective alpha male of him, and also – simply doing his job. So the trust had all been on her side – trusting his ability to keep her safe.
But things had changed. Sure, he had the training, but Beth was clearly no passive bystander waiting to be saved.
“You already know I trust you,” he said.
For a moment, her eyes
widened and then she smiled. “You trusted me to stage a reasonable distraction.”
“Good thing you’re good at falling over,” he said, with a grin.
She laughed, the first time he’d ever heard her laugh, he realised. She’d always been a quiet, serious teacher – and last night had been about lust, not laughter.
Her eyes sparkled. “I’ll have you know I’m excellent at falling over,” she said.
“Think you can manage not to fall over all the way back to the homestead?”
She nodded. “No problem.”
They began the walk back, and the heat once they emerged from the shade of the mallee trees was intense.
But immediately, it was obvious something was wrong. Beth hobbled, rather than walked beside him.
“My feet,” she explained when he asked – and pulled a foot out of one of her heels to show him the blisters that decorated her heel and toes.
“You can’t walk on that,” he said.
“I don’t have many other options,” she said. “I’ll be fine.”
She put her foot back in her shoe and took a few determined steps, but it was obvious that wasn’t going to work. It was more than half a kilometre back to the homestead, maybe more.
He jogged to cover the few metres she’d gone, and touched her arm. “I’ll go grab one of the guy’s boots. Even if their feet are too big, you can wear their socks.” The ground was far too hot for her to walk in bare feet.
Beth blanched. “I’m not wearing a dead guy’s socks, Damon,” she said. She was totally using her teacher voice, and he recognised it from when he’d first spoken to her at the bar last night, and from thirteen years ago. “I’ll be fine.”
A quicker, easier solution was suddenly obvious. He took the Glock out of his waistband, crouched in front of her, and tapped his shoulder. “Jump on,” he said. “I’ll carry you then.”
“What?” she said. “You can’t do that. I’ll crush you.”
He looked over his shoulder. “No you won’t. I had to carry twenty kilograms for fifteen kilometres as part of the E-SWAT selection course. I can carry you a few hundred metres.”
“You may not have noticed, but I weigh a lot more than twenty kilograms, Damon.”
“And I’m a strong guy. I’ll be fine, and we don’t have time to argue. Hop on.” When she didn’t move, he met her gaze. “Please, Beth – we need to get moving.”
She put her hands on his shoulders. Despite the heat, despite the urgency of the situation, her touch felt damn good. “Hold on tight,” he said, and stood.
And like that, with Beth clinging to his back and the sun so hot it made the landscape hazy, Damon walked all the way back to the homestead.
Beth knew this wasn’t the time to have a conversation about her being Damon’s teacher. She was, after all, being carried by said student.
He was remarkably – impressively – strong. She was tall, and while not overweight, she was hardly skinny. Yet he strode along as if he barely noticed her there. His back was incredibly broad, and once she got over worrying about him collapsing under her weight, she had to admit there was something very, very sexy about a man who could so effortlessly carry a woman.
Which brought her back to the fact she’d been his teacher.
It had been a long time ago, but still. She’d just turned twenty-two when she began working at Damon’s high school, when it had been pretty difficult to get a permanent role right out of university, with hundreds of graduates all competing for the same roles. She hadn’t wanted to go work out in rural Western Australia, and so she’d taken a job at a school in the outer southern suburbs, at the edge of the Darling Scarp – at a school that wasn’t exactly high on most teacher’s wish lists. It was a low socioeconomic area, and the school absolutely reflected that. Teaching there had been difficult, with many kids who had every reason to be angry and resentful at their lack of privilege and opportunity in life – with disengaged parents, or worse, criminal parents. There were good kids and parents too, but there were enough of the rough and tough to make teaching a challenge – and Damon had absolutely been one of the tough kids.
He would’ve been in Year 12 when she taught him, so thirteen years ago.
Which made him now thirty – not thirty-two as his fake ID had told her.
She knew she had a lot of more important things to worry about right now then Damon’s age. But the fact she’d been kissing a man who’d probably been living out a teenage fantasy – the way he’d approached her in the bar took a whole different light now – and was five years younger than her, and was an ex-student …
She didn’t really know what to think about it all, but she did need to think some more.
She couldn’t regret kissing him just before, or kissing him – and more – last night.
But now …
Maybe there shouldn’t be any more kissing.
When the homestead came into view, Damon had her slide off behind one of the outbuildings.
“Wait here,” he said, holding the gun in a way that looked very professional, his face focused and serious. “I’ll go check out the homestead. No one should be there, but I don’t want to make any assumptions.”
He reached down and pulled his knife out of his boot – which answered her unspoken question about how he’d cut off his ties – and handed it to her.
“Don’t hesitate to use this,” he said. “I won’t be long.”
He met her gaze, leant forward, but just before he could kiss her, Beth stepped backwards.
He blinked, and tilted his head just a little in question.
“I …” she began, then swallowed. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she said, firmly.
His eyebrows drew together in confusion, but probably because they had bigger things to worry about, he didn’t bother to ask her why she thought that.
“Okay,” he said. His gaze became more workmanlike. “Stay here. Like I said, I won’t be long.”
Then without another word, or backward glance, he was gone.
Damon couldn’t have been gone more than ten minutes, but it was ten minutes too long for Beth. She sat in the modest shade of the corrugated iron shed, huddled behind the pretty paltry cover of a rusty 44-gallon drum. The sun had slid past its highest point, but not much, and the heat still beat down on her and radiated off the steel walls of the outbuilding. Her blouse clung to her sweat-slicked skin, and she piled her long hair on top of her head with one hand in an attempt to cool herself down – but it made little difference.
She did wonder if maybe she should hide behind one of the straggly bushes nearby, which was probably more comfortable – but she took Damon’s instructions seriously, and stayed put.
He won’t be much longer.
But what if he was? What if he didn’t come back?
Because if he didn’t, what then? She had no shoes, no water, no idea where she was, as she hadn’t even thought to ask Damon that basic question. Tiger Snake Station could be anywhere … although even if she did know where, exactly, what would she do with that information? She could be a short walk from safety for all she knew (although she suspected that was unlikely), but she’d have no idea which direction to walk in.
She was totally helpless, and if Damon didn’t come back – even if she did escape the Notechi, she would probably die anyway.
Gravel crunched as someone approached, and Beth held her breath until the familiar, tall frame of Damon came around the corner of the shed, a backpack slung over his shoulders.
“I’ve got good news and bad news,” he said, as she clambered to her feet. “The good news is that no one is here yet. The bad news is that there is no landline at the homestead, and I can’t locate a satellite phone. I know Knife keeps an SUV in this shed,” he said, tapping a hand against the wall beside him, “but the security system on all the buildings is top notch, and I don’t have the skills to break in – and couldn’t find any keys or codes anywhere in the house to help me out.”
; Beth tangled her fingers in the satin of her skirt. “That doesn’t sound like much good news,” she said. “So do we wait for Gaff to get back and, I guess …” she searched for the right word. “Ambush him?”
“I like how you think,” Damon said with twist to his lips, “but sadly, no. We can’t wait around. The second I broke into the house, Knife would’ve known. This place is riddled with cameras, and while no one would be watching the footage just for the hell of it, I would’ve set off alarms, and the Notechi would be watching now. Gaff might not be coming back alone, so we can’t risk waiting around.”
“What?” Beth said, stunned. “Why’d you break into the house then? Why didn’t we just wait for Gaff to come back?”
“Because the law is pretty clear that as a police officer I can’t just murder Gaff when he arrives with the car, and we also have no guarantee when he’ll come back, or if he’d be alone. It’s too risky waiting around with so many unknowns. The best option was finding a phone and getting the E-SWAT helicopter out here ASAP, so it was worth the risk. I didn’t find one, so now it’s onto Plan B.”
“Plan B?” Beth asked, her gaze straying to the backpack on his shoulder. She didn’t have a good feeling about this.
“Plan B. We’re walking to Laverton.”
“How far is that?” Beth asked, looking down at her bare feet, her heels kicked off long ago.
“About thirty kilometres, but we can’t just go up the driveway, so we’ll need to go a bit of a roundabout way.”
“How long will that take?”
Damon shrugged, his eyes squinting in the bright sun. “I’d do it in a night, most likely. But with us together, I reckon two.”
“Two more nights out here?” Beth said, horrified, looking out over the scrub and red dirt that reached all the way to the horizon. In the cloudless blue sky, a single wedge-tailed eagle flew in huge, swooping circles.
“You have a better idea?” Damon asked, dumping the backpack between them on the ground.
Beth closed her eyes, searching about in her brain for something that would end this nightmare sooner. Unsurprisingly, her calculus teacher brain came up with absolutely nothing.
