Page 56 of Jericho

His hand falls to his side, and I kick off the slip-on shoes Zara gave me to use before climbing into the bed.

He stands there, watching me until I pull the blankets up to my shoulder.

I wish life were simpler. If lying down and forgetting actually solved problems, I'd stay here for the rest of my life, but things just don't work that way.

For the longest time, I still feel him in the room with me. I know he's staring down at my form in the bed, probably wondering what he can say to ease my mind, but his silence is telling. It means he knows there's nothing that can be said to make this better. Getting Eli away from Damien is the only thing that would improve this situation. Then there's no telling what kind of psychological damage has been done to him, not just these last few days but in the last two years that he's been away.

I don't know that I trusted Damien to keep him safe, but I figured Eli was better not being at the house where he would witness his mother getting injured or risk being used as a pawn to hurt me.

Now, I have to wonder what he's been through and the lasting effects of that.

Silent tears drip from my eyes, running toward my temple and soaking into the pillowcase. Tears don't help. They rarely ever do, and these tears aren't even cathartic. They fix nothing. They ease nothing inside of me, yet I still can't seem to make them stop.

"I'll bring him home," Nolan whispers, and then a second later, the bedroom door opens and he leaves.

The air in the room feels thinner, almost as if it's too thin for decent breaths. It forces me to sit up, wishing he was still here, although I need him gone to do what I need to do. It's not a good sign how easily I've let myself depend on him and the comfort he provides. It'll be one more thing that I have to work through losing when the dust settles with this situation.

I sit and listen, wondering if he's standing right outside of the door, waiting for me to pull a stunt, but I can't let the fear of that stop me.

I climb out of bed, and go straight to his closet, pulling clothes from hangers and layering them on top of the clothes I'm already wearing. It's freezing outside, and I know I won't make it far with only what Zara provided for me.

I stare down at the row of boots on the small rack tucked into the back of the closet, but they're not optimal at all. They're twice my size and will only slow me down. Remembering the roll of trash bags I found under the sink when looking for a toothbrush earlier, I rush in there and grab two, placing a bag over each foot before putting on more socks. It makes it a tight fit for the slip-on shoes Zara lent me, but it'll have to do.

I press my ear to the door, and when I hear nothing, I slowly open it, doing my best not to make a sound. I didn't exactly sneak around my father's house in Boston, but it was always better to not draw attention to yourself, so I became an expert in staying in the shadows and going unnoticed.

Somehow, fate works out for me and I manage to make it down the stairs and out the front door without anyone noticing me. A part of my mind whispers that it's a trap, but then I have to remind myself that Nolan and Damien are nothing alike. Nolan would prefer I stay in the bedroom, warm and safe. Damien is the one who would let me get frostbite before tracking me down and hurting me more.

I pull the cords of the hooded jacket I swiped from Nolan's closet tighter, but the bite of the frigid air still manages to seep inside my clothes.

The sound of a car coming draws all my attention, but I know I can't just stand out here and pray that someone who sawa woman struggling to walk along the snow-covered shoulder of the road won't stop. This is the South, and manners dictate that they must help a person in need. But also, there's the off chance that someone is out looking for trouble, and I don't want to be on the receiving end of that attention either. I know that anyone I come in contact with could easily end up on the wrong side of Damien. He wants me there in twenty-four hours or less, but he also wants me to struggle in every way possible to make that happen.

Instead of waiting to see what the people in the vehicle might do upon seeing me, I duck into the gully beside the road, clinging to ice-covered rocks, my head just below the road line. Darkness crept in so quickly. Sunset isn't until later, but it's already dipped behind the ridge of the mountains the property is situated between, leaving me in a hazy, frigid darkness that makes me wonder if leaving was the right choice.

The car drives by, every rotation of the tires keeping me fearful that they'll slip off the road and run me over. That would be my freaking luck to be taken out that way.

Chapter 29

Jericho

I knew she had something planned the second she pushed away from me.

It was in her eyes.

It might've been years since I saw her face, but I committed every damn nuance to memory. I knew when she was going to kiss me. I knew when she would look at my hands that she was thinking about them on her body.

I knew by the glint in her eyes that she wanted to do something that could get her in trouble.

Most all the looks I knew from back then had something to do with us spending time together. I knew the regret that showed through now that she was planning something she knew I wouldn't approve of.

She doesn't trust that I can keep her safe, and I know a lot of that has to do with the fact that I've stayed gone for all these years while she suffered at the hands ofDamien Gaines. She might never admit it out loud, but there's a part of her that hates me for the sacrifices she had to make for our son where her husband is concerned, and I don't have to scratch my own surface too deep to feel the same about myself either.

We have so much shit to work through, but I won't get the chance if she gets eaten by a fucking hungry bear or abducted by some asshole who thinks she's easy prey.

Knowing she was going to pull some stupid shit and going up and finding the room empty after less than half an hour are two very different things. It proves she doesn't trust us, and Ihave to wonder if that's more about the systematic abuse she has suffered at Damien's hands or if the time and distance between the two of us are insurmountable.

I fire off a text before leaving the bedroom, and Hemlock meets me at the bottom of the stairs. He doesn't seem surprised that she took off either.

"She couldn't have gotten far," he says. I know he's trying to be helpful, but he'd be just as fucked in the head right now if Zara took off in the dark, down the side of a fucking mountain.

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