by Amy Braun
Sawyer slowly took a step forward. “Nash, I didn’t mean to–”
“It’s okay. I’ll talk to her.” He took a step forward, then turned to Sawyer. “But she’s not wrong. Things would be different if you used the Dauntless.”
Sawyer didn’t pick a fight with his big friend. He let him leave to find his lover, hopefully so he could console and coax her into trusting her captain again. I glanced at Sawyer, watching him close his eyes and sigh, scraping his hand through his hair.
“Sawyer–”
“Get some rest, Claire,” he mumbled.
I paused, then started to argue, but Sawyer waved me off. “Don’t fight me on this, Firecracker. I’m not in the mood right now. You need food and more rest before you come with us. We might need to run, and it’ll be hard to carry you through the Barren if you pass out.”
A scowl formed on my face, but Sawyer didn’t notice it. He was turning and walking away to the back of the hangar where he usually slept.
I looked away when I heard Riley approach me. He didn’t look anywhere close to pleased.
“Are you sure about this? It’s going to be dangerous.”
“More than the world we already live in?” He didn’t find my weak joke amusing. “We don’t have a choice, Riley. If we don’t take the risk, we might as well surrender. I won’t do that. I was close to a slave once. I will not endure that again. I refuse to believe that Abby can’t have a life away from all this.”
Bright blue eyes sank into mine, holding me in a hypnotic trance. He inched closer, his hand wrapping around mine and clutching it tightly.
“I’m sorry about what I said earlier. I know this is important to you, and you’re not someone who needs to be babysat. But I don’t want anything to happen to you.” He dropped his eyes to the ground. “When I saw him bite you, I froze. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing, and I couldn’t think. I…”
Riley sighed painfully and closed his eyes. “It was like the world fell out from under me. Like I was back on the Behemoth, alone in my cell waiting for the next torture.”
He was close enough that I could recognize his warm, fresh scent. It wasn’t like Sawyer, who reminded me of crisp cedar. Riley was like clear summer air, inviting and tempting, the kind of sensation I wanted to consume my senses and linger on my skin.
“Tell me this is the only way,” he breathed, dipping his head. “Tell me we have a chance if we do this.”
His lips were so close that I tasted his breath when he exhaled. I felt lightheaded and was ignorant of everything else around me, yet I didn’t care.
I sounded like a distant version of myself when I repeated, “It’s the only way. We have a chance if we do this.”
Riley’s hand combed through my hair. It was warm and gentle on the back of my neck. He tilted forward, bringing his lips toward mine, ghosting over them and taking a soft breath–
The soft whump of a crate lid falling shut snapped me from the moment. My head jutted against Riley’s chin, knocking him off balance. We broke apart and looked in the direction of the noise.
Near the back of the hangar, Sawyer stood by a pile of large wooden crates. He hefted the fuel canister he’d taken from one of them and carried it back to the Hellion skiff. He was trying very hard not to look at us, but I recognized the grim expression on his face. It was the same one he wore when he saw me with Riley. The one that looked suspiciously like regret.
I stepped back from Riley, feeling cooler and grounded, though I couldn’t explain the small ache in my chest.
“I should check on Abby,” I mumbled out.
“I’ll do that,” he offered. “You should rest. You look like you can barely stand.”
I started to protest, but Riley placed his hand on my cheek, cupping my face and silencing me.
“I’ll make sure you see her before we go to the Barren, Claire. You have my word.”
Nodding, I took the passbooks from the journal and held them out to Riley. “Can you put these on the table by the bed? If she wakes up… I want to make sure she sees them.”
Riley took the passbooks. His free thumb stroked my cheek gently, making my stomach do a strange little flutter. “I will. Get some sleep.”
I nodded absently, like my head was attached to someone else’s neck. Riley bent forward and planted a lingering kiss on my forehead. Then he smiled, let me go, and walked toward the Dauntless.
For a moment I stood there, feeling like I was trapped in another world. I wasn’t quiet disoriented, but I couldn’t remember what I was trying to do.
Sleep. I need to get some sleep. Just until Riley wakes me. I need to go to sleep.
Repeating the mantra in my head gave my feet motivation to work. I turned my back to the airship and began walking to the storage room I’d been unconscious in earlier. But not before I looked over my shoulder and found Sawyer.
He was standing by the skiff, climbing onto it while Gemma and Nash hauled weapons and supplies onto its deck. She wasn’t as tense as before, her outburst seeming to be over, but Nash was still moving cautiously next to her. When they looked at each other, their eyes weren’t filled with irritation, but with worry.
Nash handed the gas canister to Sawyer once he was onboard. He accepted it, and as he turned, his eyes caught Riley’s. They eyed each other suspiciously, two predators sizing each other up. Riley turned away first, walking confidently to the Dauntless. Sawyer watched his back, then turned to look at me.
Our eyes met, and I saw the flash of regret he’d tried to hide from me earlier. He looked away quickly, setting the canister on the deck, but there was no erasing what I’d seen.
No understanding what I could do about it, either.
I shook my head, turned, and didn’t stop walking until I was back in the storage room. I closed the door behind me and sighed.
If Sawyer and Riley didn’t resolve their problems with each other, it was going to get us all killed. All the marauders in the Barren would need to do was sit back and watch the show.
Chapter 7
Riley kept his promise. After another three hours of sleep, he gently shook my shoulder. He told me that everyone else, including Abby, was sleeping and would rise in a couple hours. He set the passbooks near the bed so she could see them when she woke up. Thanking him, I offered my makeshift bed and blanket so he could get some rest. He seemed a little too eager to slip on top of the warm mattress I’d just been lying in, but given how chilly the hangar usually was, I didn’t find it odd.
I left the storage room, softly closing the door behind me, and began crossing the expanse of the hangar. Noise carried easily thanks to the curved walls, so the sound of scraping metal was clear and loud. I followed it, coming around the tower of crates next to the skiff. Sawyer was sitting on a wooden box, drawing the blade of his cutlass along a whetstone set on a table. He lifted his head and drew in a long breath. His eyes brightened briefly before he quickly looked away. I leaned against the crates, watching him, hoping he would talk to me. Sawyer continued to sharpen his sword.
“Does it calm you down?” I asked.
“What?” He drew the whetstone across the silver blade. “This?”
I nodded once. “I see you sharpening your sword and knives, cleaning your guns, stocking up on bullets whenever you have the chance. It’s almost a ritual for you, isn’t it?”
He slowed the sharpening, but didn’t look up. We lingered in silence for so long I didn’t think he was going to answer me.
Then he said, “My father didn’t like messy kills. I know that’s not what most people think, but it’s true. He always made sure his weapons were sharp or loaded. He wanted his legacy to be the body count, not the brutality.”
Sawyer leaned back, lifting the sword from the whetstone. He shifted to face me, though his eyes were on the cutlass in his hands, which he turned and looked over with care.
“Davin was the opposite. He didn’t kill nearly as many people as my father, but he liked getting his hands dirty. You
probably heard a rumor about him dislocating a man’s fingers and ripping them off with his bare hands?” He looked up at me. I nodded slowly, grimacing. “It’s not a rumor.”
I shifted on both my feet, uncomfortable and uncertain.
Sawyer rested the cutlass on his lap, gazing down. “They argued all the time. My father wanted to be a pirate, not a torturer. Davin would say that his methods could build more fear, make the Wanderers a stronger pirate Clan.” He shook his head. “I never agreed with either of them, but I have to admit that Davin was more effective. Still is. He knows how to get under your skin, then rip it from your bones.”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. I could only imagine what memories were dredging up into his mind.
He raised his head, tawny eyes locking onto me with an almost fierce sincerity. “I told you, Firecracker. Don’t apologize to me.”
But I couldn’t stop myself. The words kept spilling out, abandoning reason and escaping my control.
“I wish I were stronger,” I admitted, dropping my eyes. “I should have fought with you, thrown another flashbang, something other than just stand there on the skiff. I saw them attacking you and Nash and Gemma, but I…”
Sawyer put his cutlass on the table and hopped down from the crate. He crossed the distance between us in three long strides, and was suddenly so close that I couldn’t see anything but him.
“That’s why you think you need to apologize? You think that you weren’t brave when you stood up to Davin? When you warned us? Claire,” he wrapped his hands around my biceps, steadying me, “you were incredible. Stop apologizing. Nothing that’s happened has been your fault. If anything, we should be the ones apologizing to you.” He glanced down. “I never should have let you out of my sight. I tried to keep an eye on you, but…”
“You didn’t have any control over what happened to me, Sawyer,” I whispered. “I don’t blame you for it.”
His eyes lifted slightly, stopping at the bandage on my neck. He reached out, the tips of his fingers brushing my bare skin beneath the patch of fabric. His touch was feather light and so gentle, I could have sworn that I imagined it.
Sawyer kept his eyes on the bandage, shame haunting his eyes. “You should.”
I grasped his fingers and pulled them away from my neck. I held them close to my chest. His gaze followed our hands, not yet reaching my eyes. I wrapped my hands around both of his, rubbing his warm, callused palms.
“Well, I don’t. I’m alive, and I’m here.” I slid one of my hands down his forearm and used the other to press his hand against my cheek. “I’m here.”
With excruciating slowness, Sawyer finally looked into my eyes. Watching me with uncertainty, and… something that looked like awe. I smiled softly at him, hoping I had finally gotten through to him. That he would be able to let go of whatever burdens he was placing on himself, the anxieties he was trying to hide.
I knew there was more to him. I knew he could pretend to be distant and callous all he wanted. I’d seen how he cared for Nash and Gemma. I’d heard him make Abby laugh. I knew he pretended to be indifferent when Moira fussed over him, though he never pushed her away.
Then there was this–the way he was looking at me. Like I was the last thing keeping his head above water.
His thumb slid down the side of my face to the corner of my mouth, barely touching my lips. It was enough to flush my skin with warmth, and make my heart ache and race at the same time. He told me he didn’t want to be with me, that I wouldn’t be safe. But he was so open right now, so vulnerable that I could see the truth he didn’t want me to see.
Sawyer looked at my lips, his golden eyes heated with desire. I stepped closer, wrapping one of my hands around the back of his neck, willing to close this distance between us if he wasn’t going to–
He suddenly dropped his head. I froze in place, still achingly close to him. I might as well have been standing across the room with my back to him.
“How do you do this?” he whispered. “How do you sink into me when no one else can?”
I was hesitant to say anything that would push him away. All I could think of was, “You don’t have to push people away, Sawyer. You do what you can to keep us safe. You’ve never done wrong by us.”
His laugh was short and bitter. It turned into a heavy, pained sigh. “It’s not enough.”
He unlatched from me and stepped back. No, my mind begged, Don’t do this, not again, don’t run–
Sawyer straightened his spine and looked in my eyes. All that openness I’d seen began to fade. “You were strong, smart, and brave on that skiff. Because of me, you were almost kidnapped. Because of me, you could have died.” His golden eyes darkened, and I knew I was losing him. “After what happened with Davin, I’m thinking about making Nash your bodyguard instead of Riley.”
I stepped back, seeing his eyes harden. He wouldn’t open to the topic again. He wanted a fight. And he picked the perfect target.
Frustration replaced my misery. “Riley didn’t do anything wrong.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Davin grabbed you and got you on a skiff. If we hadn’t left when we did, you could be across the Breach by now. We’d never find you.”
“Riley knows where the Breach is. He would get you through.”
“And why does he know where it is? Why would the Hellions let him find out? Why take Riley to the Vesper, but not Abby when the Vesper knew she was your sister? Something doesn’t add up with him, and it’s going to get you hurt.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Being the son of a Sky Guard doesn’t make him a soldier. He’d be a better spy–”
“Would you stop with that?” I barked. “What possible reason could he have for spying on us? Even if you were right–and you’re not–he has no way of contacting the Hellions. Riley is human.”
“That doesn’t mean he can’t betray us.”
“To what possible end?”
“I don’t know! And that’s what’s scaring me!”
Sawyer’s revelation muted me. He didn’t notice, and continued on his tirade.
“When I was fighting Davin on that skiff, I was trying to kill him. All I saw was red. I forgot about where I was, his skill, my crew, even you. All of it was gone. Nothing else crossed my mind.” Sawyer’s eyes blazed like embers in a roaring fire. “And then he was there. In my head, calling me, pulling me back from what I was supposed to do. He got into my mind, Claire. Just like the Vesper did to your sister.”
“That makes no sense. Riley didn’t want you to die, he was trying to save you–”
“That’s not what it felt like.” Sawyer’s voice was ragged. Scared. “It felt like he was manipulating me. I heard his voice, and I stopped. All the rage was gone. I thought it was because I saw you… in Nash’s arms. That’s what it should have been. But that’s not what happened. I know it isn’t.”
He turned around, showing me his back. He started pacing, shoving his hands through his hair and pulling at the ends. I barely heard his next whisper.
“I don’t know what he did to me.”
“Sawyer,” I cautioned, approaching him, “listen to yourself. You’re not making any sense. Riley was trying to help you. You have to trust me–”
He whirled around. “I do. But I don’t trust him. I know you don’t want to see it Claire, but he’s hiding something. I can feel it in my bones. When I get that feeling, I’m never wrong.”
I hesitated, and then he crossed the distance again. His hands curled around my upper arms and pulled me close. My heart leaped when I thought he was about to kiss me. He stopped just short of it, but I could still smell his cedar-like musk and feel the warmth of his breath.
