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Chapter 67

The sound ricochet through the air, and a chain reaction of chaos to filtered through the group.

Drake jumped up and scanned the area, his gun already out and in his hand. The other men looked the same, eyes wide and nervous. Tense moments passed, but no new fire came, and Drake turned hard eyes on me. "You said he was dead!"

"He is," I rasped out. Bard wouldn't have fired a shotgun. He was smarter than that. He'd never alert them of his presence. That left only one other explanation. "Check the trees. There are trip wires set up."

Drake's eyebrows lifted. He slowly moved around the area. Sure enough, he must have found something, because I heard him softly mutter, "Well, I'll be damned." He walked back over to me. "Did you do that?"

I didn't answer.

"Right. He did it." His expression darkened. "That fire ain't going to build its damn self!" he yelled at the men.

They scrambled back to their task.

Drake took back his position next to me, but he didn't speak. He played with his gun, removed the bullets and put them back, pulled the hammer, eased it out. Another mind game. One I'd seen him do a million times before.

It didn't work, not when I was praying he'd stop fucking around and get it over with.

"Sit up!" Drake pulled me by my hair until I was upright beside him.

I hissed and clenched my jaw as he pulled me close into his side. It made me sick. I felt his warmth, smelled his cologne.

He slung an arm across my shoulders and held me as if we were two lovers on a camping trip.

I couldn't pull away. I wanted to. I wanted to run, burn the clothes he'd contaminated, then find the nearest cliff face to jump off of.

But I didn't. I was a coward.

We sat like that while the rest worked to get the fire going, then each of them took a seat around it. I watched them all. Saw their eyes linger over the pair of us, before they'd shift away to feign interest somewhere else.

They didn't like it. I could tell. A change had taken place the moment they'd seen my back. These men may not be good, but even the Onyx Eagles had a code.

Drake, however, didn't. They all knew if they spoke out, he'd put a bullet in their brain without so much as blinking.

I sat stiffly, numb. Emotionally, physically. Even the cuts on my back ceased to burn.

I may as well be dead.

It felt like I was. Just a corpse, being hugged by a demon and staring into the flames of hell.

Then, an angel appeared.

Out of my peripheral, a movement shifted in the trees. I tilted my head over and stared into the dark, waiting to see it again, praying my mind hadn't played a trick on me.

The men around the fire talked amongst themselves, but the words didn't register. Their voices seemed distant, as if each syllable traveled through a tunnel before it reached me.

It happened again, and my heart lurched. I squinted my eyes and fought to make out a shape, but the fire made it impossible. The light turned the dark to black, and the more I focused, the less I saw.

A bush stirred, and a shadow appeared, barely visible, but the movement made it clear. It wasn't my imagination. It darted from one tree to the other, then the next.

A shape.

A man.

A very large man.

Bard was alive.

A half sob, half laugh rushed out of me and drew the attention of every man around the fire.

"Something wrong?" Drake asked.

I fought back a vindictive grin. "My back burns," I answered in the overly sweet tone I usually reserved for Officer Jones.

Drake smirked. "My arm's a little sore."

I hate him. What had I ever seen in him?

"That's unfortunate." I looked back down and prayed for the attention to leave me.

He stared at me for a full five minutes, while the others sat on bated breath.

Drake snorted, then turned back to the group and resumed whatever conversation they'd been having before.

I carefully cut my eyes over, but the shape was nowhere to be seen. My heart was light. I could feel him, feel those intense eyes on me, and I knew, he was alive. Bard was alive. He'd found me.

Bard would save me.

Even with Drake so close, I felt safe. Even if it didn't seem like it, I was safe.

I stared unseeing at the dirt between my legs and racked my brain for a plan. I needed to get away, but Drake would never let it happen. The cuts on my back made fighting my way out impossible. I'd last two seconds, and now that I knew Bard was alive, death wasn't an option.

I looked up at Drake's profile. Maybe, I could draw him away with me...

"I need to go to the bathroom."

Drake cut his eyes back over to me. "Fred, take Jessie into the woods."

I bit my tongue.

Drake smiled at me, eyes knowing.

If I ran, he'd blame Fred, and he knew I would never put him in that position.

Fred rose to his feet and helped me to mine. "C'mon girl."

I followed beside him, gaze searching as we ventured closer to where I'd seen him. Each movement caused the burn in my back to resurface, but I swallowed the pain and clung to the new hope I'd been granted.

Fred stopped beside a tree. "Don't run, girl. You know what he'll do if you try."

I nodded.

He cleared his throat. "It didn't used to be like this. His daddy never... I would never..."

I held a hand up. "I know. You've told me a dozen times."

He nodded, face coated in shame. "I'm sorry..."

"I get it. Can you turn your back or something?"

Fred cleared his throat again, and quickly did like I'd asked.

The moment he turned, I scanned the trees, and I barely had to search at all before he appeared.

Silent as the night around us, Bard stepped into view. He was so close. Maybe twenty feet away. Real, and breathing, and alive. I covered my mouth to stop a fresh sob from bursting free and blinked back tears.

His hair resembled dread locks. It hung around him, matted with mud. The same brown coated his upper half, and in the pale moonlight, he looked almost unreal.

A wild man.

Bard crept closer, and my eyes darted nervously over my shoulder, back to the old man's head, my old friend, and I knew.

Bard would take him out. Fred was the only one I didn't want that to happen to. But did I really want to sacrifice myself to save him? He hadn't extended the same favor to me.

One look at his gray hair and wide shoulders, and I had my answer.

Yes. I would, because I wasn't like them. That wasn't my life anymore. I was more.

I waved my hands at Bard in a no motion, and he paused.

There was no way for me to explain my odd behavior to him. It wasn't like I could speak. As much as I loved Fred, I didn't trust him to not alert Drake of Bard's presence.

So I motioned for him to wait, and turned to stand beside Fred, making certain he wouldn't look behind him. "All done."

"That was quiet." He gave me a look full of skepticism.

I shrugged, then flinched as my shirt rubbed against one of the cuts. I sucked in a breath, shook the pain away, and met his gaze. "You're the only friend I had at the club Fred," I said, voice as loud as I could make it without drawing more suspicion. I prayed Bard would hear the words and understand. "I missed you."

The old man's smile was warm. "Yeah, I missed you too, kid. Although, I can't say I'm glad to see you, not given the circumstances."

I embraced him in a light hug, using the action as a means to look over his shoulder.

Bard still stood in the same position, staring after me, seemingly unafraid of the possibility that Fred might turn around.

He didn't acknowledge my words, but I took him turning to hide back amongst the trees as a sign of understanding.

Anyone but Fred.

We finished the short walk back to the fire, and Drake's eyes followed my steps. I tried to sit away from him, but he grabbed my hand and drew me back into his side.

His arm rounded my shoulders and lit fire to the wounds. I flinched, bit the inside of my cheek, and focused on the ground.

The pain didn't matter anymore.

Bard was alive. He'd come for me. It would all be over soon.

I looked up at Drake. Karma had always taken his side. She'd always blessed him, even though he'd never deserved it.

But I didn't need Karma.

I had Mother Nature.

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