Page 20 of Raiden

Nothing but the bleak reality of our situation.

I’m not sorry. I don’t feel regret. I’m still burning and bristling under my skin, but here and now isn’t the time or the place. The reality of this situation is that we can’t waste daylight hours on anything other than finding our way back to our bikes.We’re both tired. Hungry. We’ll soon run out of water. Things could get serious if I can’t find my way back.

I’m going to find my fucking way.

Not because I’m worried about my fucking masculinity being called into question—this is already embarrassingly past living down—but because I won’t let anything happen to Widow. I’m already sorry for the discomfort she’s already feeling.

I sweep her away from the tree and let her down slowly. My dick is going to be a lead pipe for the rest of the morning, looking at her tousled and flushed, eyes dilated with lust and pulse jumping all over the place.

As soon as she hits the ground, she looks pointedly at crotch. My jeans do little to hide the hard, thick outline trapped against my leg. I’m fucking going to be finding my way out of here, walking stiff and uncomfortable with an erection for the rest of the goddamn day.

“We should go,” she whispers, but keeps staring at my dick.

It takes everything in me to turn and nod. It’s nearly impossible to even think about getting my bearings and picking a path when she’s looking at me like she wants to take me out and swallow me down her throat right here. My brain is stuck on the image, my whole body resisting the rational decision to ignore that base impulse and chase the relief it would bring.

“Which way?”

Her soft question doesn’t grate on me. It’s full of trust and a quiet, gentle faith that wasn’t there before. I want to confess that I don’t have a fucking idea.

“It’s okay if we pick the wrong path. I’ll follow you anyway.” That pierces through me and she must realize what it sounds like because she quickly adds with far more sass, “I’m not letting you leave me out here. Even if we go the wrong way, it’s better than splitting up and causing a double disaster.”

I take out the compass. Find north. Look around at the unfamiliar terrain. Wish for bird wings or a fucking drone to show me the way. I know approximately what direction the cabin was from Hart, where the highways lie. Even if it takes us days to reach them, it might be our best and safest bet.

After a minute of considering what kinds of fuckery could go wrong with that idea, I shake my head, snap the compass closed, and take the first steps west.

Chapter 8

Ella

My mom used to say that life never turns out like we expect it to.

She was so right about that. Most of it is either bad luck or happy flukes.

Thank fucking god it’s the latter for us and sometime in the late afternoon, we break through the trees into the exact clearing we left yesterday.

I could weep at the sight of our bikes, standing untouched, at the ramshackle hunter’s cabin sagging through the fresh growth of new trees and tall grass, at the utter reliefon Raiden’s exhausted face. I probably look just as haggard, but I have no fucks to give.

We’re no longer lost, we don’t have to hike down the highway and find someone to stop and help us. We’re not going to have to spend another night in the woods without food or water, since that ran out hours ago. We’re not going to encounter a bear or have to try our hand at bushcraft we’re probably both shit at, whether Raiden did Scouts or not.

We’re not going to die out here.

Raiden turns his head slowly and looks at me. Fuck if the past day and a half hasn’t changed us both. We’re too tired for any sort of animosity. I watch a tremble roll through him and know he’s feeling the same bone-deep relief that I am.

“The first thing we’re going to do is get the food out of my bike. We’ll eat and then we’ll ride back to Hart. We’re not going back to the clubhouse. We’re going to my place. We need to come up with a story that’s less embarrassing than what really happened out here, get it straight, and then we’ll go back and report to Gray. He can buy this hellhole if he likes but fuck me if I’m ever coming back here.”

I’m not exactly sure how to take that. I never thought I’d see the inside of Raiden’s house. I never thought he’d look at me or talk to me or let me into his head or his life in the slightest. I know this is a special one-off moment, and I shouldn’t read too much into it. I shouldn’twantto read into it.

It’s not just him caught up in this moment of blissful freedom.

It’s not just that.

It shocks the hell out of me when he throws back his head to the late sinking sun and laughs. The sound bursts out of him, loud and glorious, gritty and almost… pretty. It echoes wildly out here, bouncing off the trees and the endless sky. I don’t know who’s more surprised at the sound. Him or me. He almost looks guilty over laughter.

I’m too tired to argue with his plan. He wants to tell everyone we didn’t get lost out here? Whatever. He can have his pride. It can be our secret. At least it’s one thing we’ll share from here on out.

That and the night we spent together out there in the wilderness. I’ve been in scary situations. Shit I thought I wasn’t going to live through. I told him about the warehouse. That sea of blood, the way I hacked a path through bodies, choosingme over them, my panic and adrenaline so high I wasn’t even human, is going to stay with me for the rest of my life.

Last night was cold, uncomfortable, and hungry, but not more than that. I wasn’t truly afraid. I knew we’d find our way out eventually. Those hours changed something inside of me, altering me forever the way that night at the warehouse did. I’m not marked through trauma or death, but the fingerprints are there, and they can’t be erased. It’s like Raiden reached inside of me and tugged on something I don’t like to admit is there. I feel different.

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