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Chapter 60

Bard placed a hand over my mouth and pulled my head forward. His lips pressed against my ear, and in a voice that was more breath than words, he murmured, "He's bluffing."

I nodded, the motion far too jerky. Parts of my body I didn't even know could tremble, did, and I stared wide eyed in the direction Drake's voice had come from.

"Jessie!" His boots crunched the dead leaves. He was directly below us, circling. "You fucked up real, real bad, sweetheart!"

I jolted, and not even Bard's presence helped to calm me. I fought to breathe, but once again, it felt empty.

He's going to find me. He's going to torture me. It will be worst. He'll know about Bard.

I looked at the man I'd given my heart to.

His face was stone, but his eyes didn't cut. There was a wild glint to them. Wide and glassy. They spoke of murder. It was how I'd seen him the first night at the bar. No fear of death. Just rage and memories and a lust for vengeance.

"Hiding isn't helping you. It's fucking cold, Jessie. We both know I'm going to find you, so you might as well come out." Drake's voice drifted as he continued to walk the area. "The longer we play this game, the worst it's gonna be."

I doubled in on myself and shook my head. He's right. He's going to find me. I thought of all the things that awaited, and his threatening words almost made me give in. If it wasn't for Bard, I'd have already given up.

I can save him.

I cut my eyes back over again. Drake wasn't after Bard. If I could just give myself up, maybe he could get away, and...

Bard must have seen something in my expression, because his jaw clenched even harder, and his hand cupped my head. He didn't speak, but he didn't need to. Those eyes cut down to my bones and said what words never could. He'd protect me. We were in this together, and there was no way he'd leave me to deal with this alone.

"You two! Go left! Try not to get fucking lost!"

I jerked, and Bard's grip tightened.

"Sam, take John and go right. Me and Fred will keep on straight. We are not leaving these fucking mountains until we find her, so try not to be fucking useless for once in your miserable fucking lives!"

Bard tilted over and peeked through the opening.

Their voices drifted further and further, until they finally diminished completely.

I sat frozen as his hawk eyes scanned the ground below, jaw tensed, muscles coiled.

When it was clear they'd moved on, he turned back to me. "They're gone, now. I want you to stay here."

"What?" I gaped at him. "Where are you going?"

Bard lifted me with him, half crawled across the floor, then dropped me down onto the mattress. "I'm going after them." He turned back and searched for something. "I'm gonna kill that mother fucker, once and for all." His voice was still low, but the venom behind it made it sound like a shout.

I reached out and gripped his shirt. "You're drunk."

Bard held firm, his face contorted in a mask of barely suppressed rage. "He was right there," he hissed. "Right there, and my stupid fucking ass was too drunk to do anything!" He looked away, his jaw clenching. "He's out there." He slung a hand out. "Walking around on my father's land. My land." He beat a fist to his chest. "My land! Threatening my woman!"

I threw a hand over his mouth and wrapped my body around his, knocking him backwards. He was too damn drunk. It was making him reckless. I needed him to stop. "Calm down. They could still hear you."

His eyes shot to mine, wide and wild. He gripped my back, held me firm. "You look so fucking scared... because of him." If possible, his anger grew. "I want him gone, Jessie. I want to show him what fear is, what pain is. I'm going to kill that mother fucker." His shoulders heaved, and he rolled his neck as if it all had become too tight. The hands that held me balled into fists against my back, and my shirt tangled into his grip. Everything about him seemed wound too tight, ready to explode. Then one of his arms broke away to hit the floor beside us.

I flinched.

Bard's attention shot to me, and as if a switch had been flipped, all that fire dulled to warmth. "Don't be scared." His hands relaxed and gently palmed my shoulder blades. He sighed, rested his forehead against mine, and the smell of too much Wild Turkey wafted towards my nose. "I promise you, he's never going to touch you again."

I leaned into him, willed myself to believe it, if only for the temporary peace it would bring. But no matter how hard I tried, it just didn't seem possible. "Please," I pleaded. "Just wait until you're sober."

Bard stared at me, his eyelids drooping as he studied every inch of my face, his expression completely different than the one he'd held just a few seconds before. He pulled me with him back to the bed and stretched us both across the mattress. "I love you so much," he whispered. He once again took a piece of my hair, let the strands run between his fingers, and stared at it in wonder. "I'm gonna marry you, Jessie."

My heart lurched, but I fought against the feeling. He was drunk. People said a lot of things when they were drunk, and even if he meant it, the odds were too slim to even consider. We were on the run from death, hidden in the dark, and the sun always rose whether it was beneficial or not.

Bard continued to stare at my hair, twirling it, transfixed. "My North Star." His eyes met mine. "I was lost until I met you."

I blinked back moisture. His words, the stress of the night, it was too damn much.

"Hey," Bard stroked my cheek. "Don't cry, Jessie. Please." His voice was gruff, and he pulled me closer to him. "I'm sorry. I let you down. I'm supposed to protect you, and I can't even walk straight."

I pulled away and looked at him. "You did protect me, Bard. You brought us here. We made it."

Bard's glassy eyes studied my face again. "Tomorrow. I'm going to find him. I'm going to make you feel safe." The words slurred as his eyelids drooped. He clutched me one last time before his eyes shut completely, and the moment they did, his breathing deepened.

I stared at him, and the magnitude of what had happened settled over me like fog. I could lose him. Really lose him. Drake would take him away just like he'd taken everything else.

As if sensing my thoughts, Bard shifted closer, crushing me into the mattress with his massive form. It was hard to breathe, but I didn't complain. He was like a blanket of protection, and despite everything, laying there on that small twin size mattress, with him too vulnerable to do anything to help me, I felt safe.

"I love you," I whispered. I kissed his cheek, ran my fingers up his back, and listened for the crunch of boots below.

Sleep wouldn't come. It knew not to. If I allowed myself to drift away, Drake would come. He was too present in my mind for the nightmares not to creep forward, and if I screamed or shouted in my sleep, it could draw him into my reality.

I stared at Bard's peaceful face– drank him it as like it was the last time I'd be able to, and I knew, it could be. It probably was. I wanted to stay there, in that moment. I wanted time to stop and never start again. I could live forever in the circle of his arms, watching him, knowing he wanted me enough to risk his own life to save mine.

"I love you," I said again, needing him to know, fearful that he didn't after everything that'd happened.

The corner of his mouth tilted, and he snuggled closer. The aggressiveness left him when he slept, and I got to have a glimpse of the Bard that would have been if his father had never made that deal.

I wanted to fix it. I wanted to absorb all the pain he'd ever experienced and add it to mine. The urge to do so was so strong, it floored me. It had always been about survival, number one, me against them. But with Bard, things were different. They were more. He was more.

I'll never be able to hide this feeling.

Drake would know. He'd see it.

He's gonna know I love this man.

He's gonna make sure I know exactly how he feels about that.

Bard's grip tightened again. It seemed even in his sleep, he could read me. Even in his most vulnerable state, he comforted me.

I took a deep breath and forced myself to push away my morbid thoughts.

Karma owed me, but she owed him more, and unlike me, Bard was deserving. He was what every man pretended to be, and what women dreamed about. If I had any chance at all, it would be because he deserved to win. He was good. I'd been fighting to survive this evil with a trail of wrong dragging behind me, but Bard didn't have that.

He just had me.

I laid my head against his chest, listened to the steady thud of his heart and matched my breaths to his. "If you die because of this, I'll have earned every ounce of shit ever handed to me."

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