Page 58 of Recurve Ridge

“If you say so.” He dropped his head back to the floor and fell silent while I fussed, though he never let go of my wrist, rubbing his thumb over my pulse point.

Despite his words, his heart pounded inside his chest under the cover of his clothes. My pulse matched his beats until they slowed.

Finally, he turned dulled eyes to Robe. “You were right. He was in the bar.”

“What?” Robe startled behind me, resting a hand along my spine as he leaned forward. “Fuck. Will, get him water and electrolytes. Shower, then debrief?”

His hand tightened on my back, reminding me that I didn’t warrant an invite to that meeting.

Will scooted inside the door, and I wondered where he’d been.

Instead of arguing, I returned to my assessment of the friend I refused to leave. Even if they didn’t tell me everything, this ragtag group of lost boys was mine to care for and protect. Dark red flakes, crusted at the edges, peeled away in my hand. I swapped my dry cloth for the fresh damp one Will passed over as he tipped water into Alan’s mouth.

My clean cloth turned bloody fast. I gripped it tight. “If you’re not hurt, who does all this belong to?”

Alan held my gaze for a long moment, then closed his eyes.

“How many?” Robe asked softly.

“Three.” He paused. “Four—it doesn’t matter.”

“Fuck,” Robe swore. He caught me beneath my arms and lifted me up, though Alan still held my wrist.

“Put me down. I want to help.” I wriggled in protest, but Robe, in his typical fashion, ignored me.

“And I need time, Mari. Will you give us that?”

“She should know.” Alan squeezed my hand, winding his fingers through mine as he pushed himself off the floor. “She deserves to know. He’s hurt us all.” He held Robe’s gaze and didn’t back down.

My heart thundered as the two men fought a silent battle over my head.

“This is how I usually feel,” Will stage-whispered behind his hand.

I giggled, though his light words didn’t hide the concern that tightened his easy features.

“Shut up or you can wash my ass,” Alan muttered, then threw up his hands. “Fine. Run it your way, Robe. But shutting her in there”—he pointed to the room we shared—“doesn’t solve other problems.”

“I’ll work it out in my own time.”

“Stubborn ass.”

“Agreed.” I caught the elbow Alan offered with a stiff smile and let him walk me to my door. “You know where to find me when I’m to be let out of my prison.”

Alan gripped my hand tight, pulling me a little closer, and my eyes widened. “You’re the reason I came back,” he mumbled into my ear.

I sucked in a long breath, shocked beyond my brain’s ability to function. Alan’s grip tightened. He paused for a long, intimate moment, brushing his mouth over my skin in the barest kiss. My heart thumped as my vision swam, obscuring his exhausted form. His grip lessened, dropping away.

Alan sighed and headed for the larger bathroom down the short hall that housed the bedrooms. His shoulders bowed as though he carried the heartache of every man in the house.

Of everyone he bore responsibility for.

I shut the door without looking back and leaned against it. My body trembled as I opened my hand and stared at the tiny pink cocktail umbrella Alan had pressed into my palm. Its features were marred with scribble, and as I tentatively opened the frail pleated paper, the scrawl transformed into a word.

Gideon.

* * *

I clutchedmy secret tight to my chest as I went through my now-familiar day-to-day motions, knowing I’d never tell Robe what I understood about his covert missions or the risk they all took. Small things like where Alan went, his leaving me gifts, and the trail of bodies in his wake. I secreted every fragment of conversation away, each one a partial puzzle piece revealing who my old boss had been to me that vied against what Robe’s crew knew.

---