Page 33 of The Wrecked One

“At least you’d finally come back to us.”

Fuck the hole in the ground, her pained tone and expression burned a chasm straight through my heart.

She shook her head, then slipped off the backpack. “You left me.”

“I had to.” I faced her, back to being laser-focused on the current problem. She’d found me and was alone. I needed to get her safely from the woods, then come up with a plan to get her out of here. There was no way Mason or anyone would’ve let this woman go off like this. I didn’t believe that. She had to have snuck away. But how in the hell’d she do that, not to mention track me down?

“No one followed me,” she said, going to her knees before standing.

“Clearly,” I snapped out, more worried than frustrated. Something could’ve happened to her en route to find me. Or right here in these woods. “Where’s Falcon? Mason? Why aren’t they with you?”

“They’re on a mission. Gwen and I stayed back on purpose so I could, well, use the chance to come here when no one could stop me.” Her tone was more hesitant than I was used to from her. Then again, maybe she’d changed as much as I had.

“Gwen helped you get to me? What were you two thinking?” I tossed my hand in the air, then cursed, forgetting I’d just reset that arm.

“What’s wrong? The GSW healed before we, um . . .”

I’d never told her or anyone I’d dislocated it back in Bangkok since I’d fixed it myself. Right before I murdered an innocent man. No need to tell her now. To relive that horror. No, I had enough of those memories to last ten lifetimes.

“Just stay by my side while we walk to the bike.” I let go of my bad arm. “I need to get you out of these woods.”

“We have a lot to talk about.” She went for the bag, but I beat her to it and secured hold of it.

“We don’t have anything to talk about. Except how to get you safely back to where you belong, which is far from here.” Away from me.

“I came all this way, and you really think I’m going to turn around and go?” Her sarcastic tone, one I missed as much as I did her soft, loving one, caressed my skin, oddly cooling off my heated body.

With her bag slung over my good shoulder, I leaned in, bringing my face near that smart mouth of hers. My heart thundered up into my ears, and my breaths quickened. I could feel myself falling back in time, back to when it was the two of us, and we weren’t wanted by The Collective, and I hadn’t almost watched a savage rape her.

Chills rolled over my skin as we remained quietly locked in that fixed position, staring at each other.

“Yes, Mya. You’re going to turn your ass around and go. That’s precisely what you’ll be doing,” I finally said. “But first I need you to tell me how in God’s name you found me. Because if you’re here, others can find me, too.” And now you, since you’re with me.

She arched her shoulders back, standing tall. Defiant. Her tongue skirted the line of her pink lips as she looked at my mouth. The fact she’d chosen jeans that hugged her ass and a white tee that clung to her breasts, and had done up her makeup in a sexy way, for a jaunt in the woods to find me was such a Mya thing to do. And it made me want to take her in my arms.

I can’t. No kissing. No touching. No anything.

“Gwen covered my tracks and yours.” She locked her arms over her chest, lifting her chin as she tried to stare me down. Her sadness had taken a back seat to her anger. Like always, I’d take her pissed over sad any day of the week.

“What do you mean?” I asked, but I was slowly connecting the dots on my own.

That fucker set me up, didn’t he? Last week was a trap all right, but for me.

The bag slipped down my shoulder, falling to the ground.

She clocked the movement before her attention flew back to my face. “What in the hell were you doing at The Sapphire Hotel, anyway?”

11

MYA

“We need to go. Come on.” Oliver gestured for me to walk, completely ignoring my question about the hotel. Not just any hotel, but a sanctuary for bad guys.

I had a million questions to ask him, and whether he liked it or not, I wouldn’t be leaving without answers or him.

I followed him over to a trail I hadn’t noticed before he’d rescued me. He set down my bag and went to a dirt bike that was on its side. His tan back muscles flexed as he hoisted it upright and used the kickstand to keep it standing on its own.

Without a shirt and shoes, sporting a full beard and hair long enough he had to keep pushing it away from his eyes, he really did have a man-gone-wild look going for him. He was also more ripped than I remembered, and he’d already been in crazy-good shape before.

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