by Hope Anika
Sam took down the pack of food they’d hung the night before and stored it in the four-wheeler, along with the extra water he’d brought, and a five gallon container of fuel, both of which he’d retrieved just after dawn from the three-wheeler he’d driven in on the night before. His sleeping bag was back in his pack, which he also found a home for in the small black box on the back of the ATV. They’d lucked out, it was a hell of a nice little rig, plenty of room for both them and their gear, fairly fuel efficient and able to handle the terrain—so long as it didn’t turn into a swamp.
As if in answer to that observation, thunder rumbled overhead, and Sam felt the throbbing begin in his skull. He’d patched up his leg, and it would do, but it hurt. His belly was empty again, the hotdogs and nutty bar he’d eaten next to the fire last night long gone. But there would be no fire this morning, no breakfast to linger over.
They needed to move. Not only was the water rising—on the heels of another round of storms—his phone still had service, and they needed to get out of range, fast. As soon as he lost a signal, he would feel better, and even then they would keep going. Sam knew men like Ivan. Neither the weather nor the terrain would stop him. They were hunted now.
It was time to start acting like it.
Ben crawled from the tent. Daisy bounded past him, yipping excitedly. Alexander scooped her up and tied the short length of rope Sam had managed to find around her neck; she licked him, and Sam swore the kid almost smiled. Lucia followed, blinking, her hair a thick, curling mass around her shoulders, her skin flushed from sleep. She halted in the open screen of the tent and yawned hugely.
Sam watched her stretch and remembered how lush she’d felt pressed against him, the scent she carried in the curve of her neck. How she’d shivered when he touched her. So fucking close. But not close enough.
Christ.
He made himself turn away and continued to break camp, burying the hole he’d dug for their fire, tossing the stumps they’d used as seats back into the undergrowth. By the time he approached Lucia, all that was left was the tent.
“We need to go,” he told her shortly. “Get packed up.”
“Good morning to you, too,” she replied in a disgruntled tone.
“Do it quick.”
She froze. “Why? Has something happened?”
“Just do it,” he said and walked away. He would tell her about Tony’s message, but not until they were out of satellite range.
He moved the three-wheeler back behind a large bolder and covered it with pine boughs. By the time he returned from that, Lucia had the tent down and stowed away, along with their packs. She eyed him with a dark look, but said nothing.
Sam went through and kicked at the grass where the tent had been, disturbing it. He covered the hole where the fire had been with dead logs and leaves. He did his best to mask the few foot and ATV trails they’d made, but he knew it wouldn’t be enough. He would have spotted it a mile away.
“It looks like we were never here,” Alexander said, looking around.
“Not to a professional,” Sam said. “Let’s go.”
The boys climbed into the ATV, Daisy in tow. Lucia followed, settling into the seat next to Sam. She waited until he’d started the four-wheeler to ask, “Why are we in a hurry?”
“Why aren’t we?” Tension rode him hard; his gaze flickered to the small rearview mirror. Alexander stared at him, and Sam could see his trepidation. The kid knew something was up, but for once, he held his tongue.
“What’s happened?” Lucia demanded and looked over her shoulder. “Did you see someone?”
“No.” Sam hit the gas, and they lurched forward. The trails were heavily rocked, which was good, because the ground was so wet, the path was little more than mud. They would leave one hell of a trail, at least until the rain came.
He maneuvered up and over the swell of the land, dotted by huge granite boulders, lined by rows of tall, old growth pine. The foothills shimmered in the distance, and he wondered how long they would be able to stick to the trails before they had to go off-road. Because they were going to have to abandon the groomed track they followed now; eventually, they were going to have to just drive into the wilderness and go as far as they could.
“He goes a lot faster than you did,” Alexander observed from the backseat.
Lucia lifted her chin. “I am a safe driver.”
“Like a herd of turtles,” Alexander replied, and Ben giggled.
“Hardy-har-har,” she told them. She dug into her pack, pulled out two apples and two oatmeal pies and handed them to Alexander. “Here. Eat your breakfast.”
“I’m not hungry,” he said with another glance at Sam in the mirror.
“You should eat,” Sam told him.
The boy sighed and reluctantly accepted the food.
Lucia scowled at Sam. “What did you do?”
Sam looked at her. “What are you talking about?”
Her gaze narrowed, shimmering amber in the pale morning light. “With what did you bribe him?”
“Safety,” Alexander said.
Sam glanced at him in the mirror, and Alexander stared back. Balls. The kid had them by the truckload.
“Safety,” Lucia echoed and turned in her seat to stare at the boy.
“You aren’t enough,” Alexander told her, and Sam watched a flurry of emotion cross her features: pain, anger, resignation. “He can keep us safe.”
“So you traded up?” she asked.
The boy only took a bite of his pie and stared at her.
Ben watched the byplay, nibbling at his own pie. He reached out and patted Lucia’s arm. “Don’t worry, Lu. I’m going to keep you.”
She tried to smile. “Thank you, monkey.”
Annoyance crept over Sam. He understood why Alexander was the way he was, but that was an explanation—not an excuse.
“Not enough,” he repeated and pinned Alexander with his gaze. “And just where do you suppose you’d be without her?”
Sam felt Lucia eye him, but he didn’t look at her. He only watched Alexander and waited. Christ, he felt like Magnus, pushing the same buttons his uncle had always had a finger on.
Full fucking circle. That was life.
Alexander said nothing. To his credit, he didn’t look away, but he certainly didn’t have an answer.
“That’s what I thought,” Sam continued. “She got you out. She got you here. You owe her. And if you can’t be man enough to say thank you, at least be enough of one to keep your mouth shut.”
Alexander blinked. Sam turned his gaze ahead and concentrated on the trail, which was beginning to narrow as they climbed higher into the mountains. The rig handled well, considering the number of passengers and gear they carried, but then it should. Damned thing cost as much as a car.
“I didn’t mean I wasn’t grateful,” Alexander said stiffly after a moment.
Lucia turned again and looked at him. “I know, mijo.”
Sam knew the boy was looking at him, but he just kept driving. The kid needed to stew in his own crap for a while and think about someone other than himself. Lucia hadn’t just broken the law with this insane getaway—she’d marked herself for death. She deserved some goddamn credit for that.
Silence fell. They made their way deeper into the wilderness, and above them, the skies once again grew dark. Thunder boomed in the distance; lightning speared across the churning, thick roll of blue-black clouds in delicate, white-hot veins. The trees around them swayed, and pine cones fell like confetti.
Sam kept one eye on the clouds, the other on the trail. He watched for any sign of someone following them, and checked the sky for aircraft. He tried to ignore the warmth and scent of Lucia beside him and the closed expression on her face. He didn’t like that expression; all of her fire shuttered behind a wall of impassive control. It made him want to shake her.
To push, until that fire burst into flame and burned them both.
He should have never laid hands on her. So fucking stupid. Weak. So to
day he wouldn’t touch. Today he would do what he’d promised: he would protect them. No matter the temptation that beckoned or the awareness that pulsed between them, immune to the realities they faced: Donavon Cruz, the coming storm, the small army of men who were undoubtedly chasing them.
Because he wanted her, and that want lit a fire in his belly and whispered in his ears and prickled his skin with awareness and heat.
Hunger. Vibrant and powerful, something he hadn’t felt…ever. And something he had no choice but to ignore.
Damned if you do, and damned if you don’t.
The fucking story of his life.
Chapter Nineteen
Hail fell, so thick and dense it looked like fresh snowfall.
Lucia stole a glance at Sam, whose jaw seemed carved from stone. He’d been terse all day, his tension rising until it was a force that pressed against her skin with suffocating presence. He was hyper-vigilant, his gaze never halting in any one place too long. Before them, behind them; in the sky, through the trees.
He’d grown quiet and curt; he was watching for someone.
His vigilance was cold and relentless and foreboding, and it scared the hell out of her. A part of him she’d not seen, one which hinted at a darkness that both reassured and frightened her. She was seeing the truth of him, the core of the man who’d wrapped himself around them in the center of the storm and held them together. He was not just law enforcement, she was certain. He was…more.
Tony’s friend. Tony, who she knew had once been an Army Ranger. Was that how they knew one another? Were they fellow soldiers?
Warriors. An apt description for the man who sat next to her, grim and determined, who hadn’t batted an eye at deliberately putting himself in front of them. Who issued orders like a drill sergeant and expected them to be followed. And who’d managed to convince Alexander—the most untrusting person she’d ever known—to believe in him, if only temporarily.
For safety’s sake.
It hurt, but Lucia understood. Because in spite of how volatile Sam made her feel, she believed he would do everything in his power to keep the boys safe. She could hardly blame Alexander for recognizing and utilizing that fact, because if it had been possible for her to barter for that guarantee, she would have done so as well. But for her, safety was relative, and fleeting at best. Because Ivan was coming.
Ivan.
She’d pushed him into the furthermost corners of her consciousness; she hadn’t wanted to think about him, so she didn’t. Even though she knew he would be the one to come for her—for the children—and even though she understood only one of them would come out of any confrontation alive.
Because Donavon Cruz’s right hand man was a cruel, giant brute of a man who’d spent the last nine months watching her with a hungry, dissolute expression that made her skin crawl. A monster. One her primal brain recognized at the deepest level, an apex predator who saw her as nothing but prey. Only her position in the Cruz household had prevented him from hunting.
Now there was nothing to stay him. He would come. And he would enjoy it.
Part of her had been waiting since the moment they’d fled. Preparing, planning, steeling herself, because there was no choice in what must be done. From the moment she’d taken the boys, Lucia had understood she would have to deal with Ivan—even if she hadn’t let herself think about it. No matter how far they made it, she knew he would continue to hunt them until they were found, so if they truly wanted to be free, Ivan had to go.
Her responsibility—even if Sam disagreed. Because Lucia wouldn’t allow him to interfere in this; as she’d told him, she would deal with Ivan. So long as Sam had enough time to flee with the children, that was all that mattered. She hadn’t wanted Sam involved, but if he was determined to help, then that would be his mission. And Lucia knew he would refuse to leave her—she was going to have to make that happen, somehow, because he was not a man to abandon a fight, too stubborn by half—but he’d promised he would protect the children, and she was going to hold him to that vow. Ben and Alexander were her only concern; what became of her no longer mattered. She’d given up that control the moment she’d taken them. There was no do-over now.
What a shitshow.
A sentiment with which she could only agree. Lucia knew she’d messed up. A mountain of stupid. Because if she’d done things properly, they wouldn’t be stuck in the middle of the wilderness, wholly reliant on the man beside her. She could have laid a false trail—or two—and had an actual plan instead of simply taking off down crazy lane. It was stupid, what she’d done, and the boys would pay a far greater price than she. If she were honest, she might admit she was grateful to Tony for sending Sam. His presence was a gift she’d not expected.
But she did not want to reflect on what that meant. She’d become very used to hating Tony, and while her animosity had been born at a time when chaos was the only constant and was not, she knew, entirely reasonable, that hate had become her companion over the years, one she had no wish to abandon.
It was so much easier to blame him instead of herself.
“Can you use that little pea-shooter you’re carrying?” Sam asked abruptly, his voice low.
Lucia stiffened, wondering how he knew she was armed. But then, she had threatened to shoot him... “Sí.”
“Good.”
She turned to look at him, aware of Alexander listening. Ben was asleep, his head hanging low, Daisy snoring in his lap. When they’d stopped to pee a few hours ago, it had been Sam’s hand Ben reached for, something she was still grappling with.
You’re not enough.
Something Ben obviously knew, too. And in spite of Sam’s defense—which had surprised her—Alexander was right. She wasn’t enough. She wasn’t sure an army would be enough. You owe her, Sam had said, but they didn’t; they never would. And she wasn’t sure how she felt about Sam coming to her defense. Because while she would rely on him to take care of the boys, she did not want him trying to take care of her.
She could take care of herself.
“Why is that good?” she asked.
But Sam only shook his head, his gaze shifting to the rearview mirror. Annoyed, Lucia reached over and poked him in the arm. Her finger met with muscle as taut as steel. When he glanced at her, she repeated, “Why?”
“Later,” he said shortly with a meaningful look at Ben.
Secrets.
A thought that made her angry. Bad enough he was tense as a strung bow, not even softening for the boys. Worse was what he knew that he hadn’t shared. Lucia did not appreciate secrets; she still hadn’t forgiven him for lying to her. Regardless of how protective he was being, she would not stand for any more surprises. And he was the kind of man who would shield her from anything he thought she didn’t need to know, something he would have to learn different. Because she was not putting up with lies.
Tony, she thought. No doubt they were in touch. What had Sam learned?
The ATV slid a little along the wet trail, and Sam swore softly. His tension ratcheted up a notch, and the fine hair at Lucia’s nape bristled in reaction. It was like sitting next to a snake poised to strike, body coiled in wait, tail rattling. Her nerves were screaming in protest. Her butt hurt, she ached all over from the jostling ride, and she was hungry enough to eat a small farm animal. She wanted to suggest they stop, but she knew Sam would only growl at her, and if he began to growl, she was going to snarl back.
Because last night she’d given him the truth. And perhaps she shouldn’t have expected anything from him in return, but she did. Understanding, if nothing else. Instead, he’d built a wall between them. It was yet another betrayal—no matter that he was little more than a stranger—and she felt the blow acutely. Added to her physical discomfort, her worry for the boys, and the continual rise of tension within the small vehicle, it was more than enough to spark her temper.
Which would get her nowhere. She knew that. Trouble was the only thing that would come of losing her head. Always.
“Look. A house.” Alexander’s slender arm suddenly speared through the space between them. “There, in the trees.”
The ATV rocked to a halt. Sam stared up at the small wooden structure—far more a shack than a house—his gaze narrowing. Thunder chose that moment to boom overhead, and Ben woke with a sharp cry.
“Easy, monkey,” Lucia murmured, leaning around her seat to smooth his hair. “It is only thunder, nothing to scare you.”
“Thunder sucks,” Ben said and began to cry.
Lucia clucked softly. Poor little peanut. He was exhausted, hungry and terrified. She knew the feeling.
“We should stop,” she told Sam. “They need a break.”
“It’s not safe,” he replied shortly.
“It will never be safe.”
His gaze met hers, hard, glittering, no hint of warmth. It only made her angrier. He’d extended his hand, and she had—reluctantly—taken it. And now he was pushing her away with that same hand. Pushing her, which was not a good idea. Because although she was—normally—a calm, level-headed and logical woman, when her ire was raised, she became the hot-headed Latina her grandmother had celebrated and her mother lamented.
Had he not already learned this?
“Fine,” he muttered. “Weather’s shit, anyway.”
Lucia’s hands curled into fists.
“Just one night,” he continued and shot her a dark look. “You’d better hope we don’t regret it.”
She ground her teeth, aware of Ben crying softly, and Alexander murmuring to him.
They followed the trail until they came to two worn tracks, overgrown and rutted, which led up to the cabin. Sam turned onto the make-shift drive and pulled up behind the gray, weathered building. Another small shed and an outhouse sat behind the cabin, but there were no vehicles, and it was apparent from the thick overgrowth that no one had been there in a long, long time.
Some of the tension in Lucia’s spine eased. And then Sam said, “Get the boys inside, and be quick about it. We need to stay quiet and out of sight. Make sure they know.”
She only blinked at him.
