Page 31 of Ravens
And that’s exactly what I am.
The presence of the others seems to be tempering, but it’s probably difficult for him to not manhandle me when I run my mouth. I know he’s resisting because I’m hurt too. What does that mean?
Butterflies bloom deep in my stomach, and I unzip the raincoat, laying it beside me before toeing off the boots and closing my eyes. The thing is, I want to be manhandled right now . . . a lot of the time, really, but I can’t let him know that. He blew thetop off a thing inside me that I didn’t know was there, a desire, and now I don’t know what to do about it.
I also don’t think I could stand the satisfaction on his face if he figured it out.
It’s exhausting trying to guess at whatever it is he has planned. By the time I give up on it for the time being, I’m curled up on my side, dozing in and out to the sounds of soft footfalls in the dirt and the crackling of damp wood on the fire.
***
The unzipping of the tent flap makes me shoot upright. My gaze locks on York’s, and although I’m clothed, you wouldn’t think so with the way he eyes me. I shiver and cover it up with a stretch.
“How are your wrists?”
“I’m fine.” I rub one of the bandages, and then look past him to the darkening sky. “What time is it?”
“Almost five. Watch starts soon. You need to eat.”
Sliding toward him, I pull my boots back on and grab the coat. He extends his hand, but I brush it aside and get out on my own. Grumbling something under his breath, he zips the flap closed, and I make my way to the fire, which they’ve managed to build up a bit more.
Carter passes me a steaming mug of soup, and I sit with it as they chitchat.
“I’m in,” William murmurs to York, who responds with a curt nod and comes to sit beside me.
“The Agency?” I mutter discreetly into my cup as I take a drink.
“I know you can figure it out on your own.” He leans into me. “No matter how clueless you want me to believe you are.” The soup goes down hard, and I wipe the corner of my mouth as I glance around the fire warily. He leans in even closer. “And I know you think I’m an idiot, but trust me, I know.”
“Whatever you know is less than half of the big picture.”
“Mm.” He leans back and gives me an appraising look. “Give me the other half.”
“You first.” I toss the remainder of my soup on the ground and toe some dirt over it with my boot.
I’m a great fucking actress. It might be the only thing I’m exceptional at because I’m even fooling myself at this point. Fooling myself into thinking I fucking hate him when all my body wants to do is climb on top of him.
Then again . . . he already said we were using each other, didn’t he? I set the mug down and pull out my gun, cocking it while staring at him and then stuffing it back into my waistband.
“Sun’s almost down.” I look around the fire again. They’re all watching me except August; he’s gone. “Don’t sneak up on me,” I say quietly and head into the woods alone.
Sixteen
“You see?”
August appears at my side, and I start, gripping my chest. Christ, he’s fucking stealthy.
“Dusk,” he continues, his voice hushed. “Just when the sun is about to disappear is the most difficult time to see clearly. Your depth perception out here is going to be off, and it’s hard to tell shadows from threats.” He starts walking. “You’re also more likely to get a branch to the eye, or trip, so move slowly.”
After about twenty minutes of traipsing through tangled underbrush and weaving through the boughs of saplings laced tightly with the trunks of larger trees, August stops as abruptly as he began.
“What?”
His hand flies up, and he wiggles his fingers in the vicinity of my face, which I take as a bid for silence.
“There is something about . . .” His voice trails off.
Turning on the spot, I don’t see anything, and then he points to a tree. His head cocks to the side like he’s listening intently.
