Page 15 of Cyclone

I pushed the door open with a creak and scanned the interior: a battered cot, big enough for two, a crumbling hearth, and dust thick enough to choke on.

“It’ll do,” I said gruffly.

Jude dropped her pack and sank down onto the cot, the last reserves of her strength bleeding away. I started a small fire in the hearth, just enough to cut the chill.

Jude

The silence between us thickened, heavy with everything unspoken. I watched him from under lowered lashes, my heart hammering. Cyclone caught me staring and didn’t look away.

Something cracked inside me—adam that had been straining for far too long.

I rose slowly to my feet, crossing the tiny space between us. Cyclone didn’t move, just waited, tension radiating from him.

“This doesn’t mean anything,” I said, voice low, rough.

“I know,” Cyclone said, his voice just as strained. “I just... can’t stop. Once we start, there is no stopping.”

The distance vanished.

Our mouths crashed together, all the fear and adrenaline and need igniting between us. Cyclone’s hands tangled in my hair, pulling me closer. I pressed myself against him, desperate for the heat of him, the reality. I wanted him to take me, fast and hard. I didn’t want him to stop the entire night.

Clothes were stripped away in frantic, clumsy movements. There was nothing gentle about it—only hunger, raw and consuming.

We found each other in the dark, in the flickering firelight, one broken soul and her protector colliding because we couldn’t do anything else.

Later, tangled in the thin blankets, I lay on Cyclone’s chest, listening to his heartbeat.

“This doesn’t change anything,” I said again, softer now.

Cyclone’s hand traced lazy circles along my spine. “No,” he agreed. “It just is.”

For now, it was enough.

8

Jude

We burst from the shack, sprinting into the gray light of morning. My muscles screamed in protest, but I pushed harder, Cyclone beside me. Neither of us mentioned last night, but if I were truthful, I could have made love all day today.

If he had asked, I would have said yes. He makes me feel special when his hands explore my body, and his lips follow his hands.

Then we heard them. The noise grew louder, closer—a frenzy of sound. We didn’t dare look back.

Down the ravine, across jagged rocks slick with dew, through the twisting scrub. Every heartbeat was a countdown.

“There!” Cyclone pointed to a narrow crevice between two boulders up ahead. “We can lose them!”

I didn’t hesitate. He put me in front of him, slipping into the narrow space just as the first of the pursuers crested the ridge behind us.

Gunshots rang out, bullets sparking against stone.

“Keep moving!” he yelled.

We squeezed through the crevice, emerging onto a hidden game trail that wound deeper into the cliffs. Above them, the searchers’ shouts echoed in frustration.

For now, we’d slipped the noose.

We didn’t slow down until the sounds of pursuit faded behind us. Even then, we kept moving, deeper into the wilderness. I wasn’t taking any chances.

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