Page 19 of Broken-Hearted

Then he winces.

“What?” I spring to my feet and grab his arm as guilt eats me alive. “Are you hurt?”

He glances down at his left ankle and rolls it, then winces again. “Uh, yeah. I must have landed on it funny.”

I cover my face with both hands. “Oh God. I’m sorry. I didn’t think. Or I did think but not long enough. Martha says I need to think longer before I act or not act instead of thinking longer.” I peel my hands away to look at him. He’s leaning on a tree, head tilted, smiling faintly as he studies me. “I can be impulsive.”

He slowly nods. “Yeah, me too.”

I look at his ankle again. “Can you walk, or should I help you?”

He takes a step and his face scrunches up in pain.

I dart toward him, wrapping an arm around his waist and trying not to notice his muscles. Now is not the time to be noticing those when I nearly killed the guy. “Here. Lean on me. Let’s get out of here.”

Before Adrian follows us down here.

“So who is after you?” Nathan asks, proving to be a mind reader as he rests his weight on me.

I guide him away from the road, deeper into the forest.

Do I have any clue where I’m going? Nope.

Is a small part of me worried about running into a bear? A little.

Will I hope for the best that things will work out in the end? Sure.

“Clara?” Nathan prompts me.

I debate lying until I remember how I nearly broke his leg by shoving him down a hill. It could have been worse. Much, much worse.

What if I broke his neck? We can heal from most things, but a broken neck will do the job on a shifter as it would on a regular human.

Nathan deserves answers. Not just because I nearly killed him. The guy followed me from Dawley, was prepared to sleep outside my motel room, and has been determined to keep me safe.

I start talking. “There was an alpha in Minnesota back when Martha and I were traveling. I know what you’re thinking. Nothing interesting ever goes down in Minnesota. I thought it too. I guess that’s why we both had our guards down.”

The corners of his eyes crease as he laughs. “That is not what I was thinking. You seem shorter now I’m leaning on you.”

I peer up at him. “Martha says it’s my big mouth. Makes me seem bigger. Kinda like how you think the Mona Lisa is going to be massive, but it’s so small.”

His eyes widen as he peers down at me. “You’ve seen the Mona Lisa?”

“Only on TV. Martha and I watched a documentary when they said how big it was. I spent twenty minutes looking for a tape measure in our car because Martha was convinced I’d misheard. She told me to wait until the morning, but I had a point to prove. Who cares that it was 2 a.m.?”

He grins at me, and I realize, not for the first time, how easy it is to talk to Nathan. When I’m not actively trying to lie to him, that is.

“So this Minnesota alpha…” he prompts.

“He tricked Martha into believing he was a good guy.” I stop guiding Nathan, gulping when I think of how bad things could have gone. He wanted to grab me. But what about Martha? What would he have done to my sister? “He was not a good guy.”

“And he’s after you?”

Nodding, I keep moving. “But Adrian—that’s his name, by the way—sent enforcers to Dawley and they grabbed Martha and nearly killed her. He must have sent more because Ty and Jackson killed those enforcers. Now they want to kill you and insteadInearly kill you by shoving you down a mountain.”

“It was more of a hill than a mountain,” Nathan says mildly.

“But it doesn’t change what I did,” I cry.

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