Page 82 of Dustwalker
She’d missedhim.
Crazy as it seemed, she had been worried about him. The Dust was dangerous for anyone, and by his own admission, he wasn’t impervious to harm. How would Lara have reacted if he’d taken damage to one of his primary systems and come back changed? Or if he’d never come back at all, and she was left without knowing his fate?
What if Warlord had captured Ronin and done the same to him as he had to Tabitha and her bot? Ronin hadn’t shared the details, and Lara wasn’t even sure she wanted them, but she understood the simple truth—Cheyenne was not safe.
Her heart constricted, and she pressed a hand over her chest. Those thoughts filled her with dread so deep and oppressive that it threatened to drive her into a panic here and now.
“What’s wrong, Lara?”
She started, turning her head to see Ronin standing naked in the bedroom, a towel clutched in his hand. His short brown hair was disheveled, appearing to have been freshly dried, his skin was still damp, and his cock hung flaccid against his thigh. Every contour of his body was on display. Lara lifted her gaze to meet his eyes, which looked upon her with undisguised intensity.
He’s beautiful.
He’s...mine.
And I need to keep him safe, like he does me.
Licking her lips, she forced words out of her tight throat. “I think we should leave.”
His brow furrowed. “We have the salvage to purchase enough food to last for days, at least.”
“Leave Cheyenne, Ronin.”
“The Dust is too dangerous, Lara. I know you want to come on runs with me, but?—”
“I mean for good. We should leave Cheyenne forever.”
He stood utterly still and silent. Thinking. It looked unnatural, but she wasn’t unsettled by it anymore.
“Where would you like to go?” he finally asked.
“I don’t know. You’ve been to all kinds of places, so I thought…” She dropped her hands into her lap and sighed. “It’s dangerous here. I know it was Warlord and his gearheads who killed my sister. And you can’t tell me I’d be safe if I set one foot outside this house without you.”
He looked at the floor. “I could tell you that, but it wouldn’t be true.”
“It’s not your fault, but I feel like a prisoner here, Ronin. I don’t want to sit here and wait for something to happen to me, like it did to her.” Lara bit the inside of her lip and dropped her gaze to the ring as she twisted it on her finger. “If you don’t want to go, at least take me past the wall, and…and I’ll find my way to somewhere else.”
Ronin crossed the distance between them, grasped her shoulder in one hand, and took her chin in the other. He gently guided her eyes up to his. “I made a vow, Lara.”
“I don’t want you held by words, Ronin.”
“I’m not held by them. I’m…enrichedby them.” His palm moved up to cup her cheek. “There’s nothing tying either of us to this place apart from each other. My only bond is with you.”
Lara’s stomach fluttered. “And…what does that bond mean to you?”
“It means I am alive.”
“But you can have that without me. You were already alive, before I was even born.” Fortunately, her disappointment didn’t creep into her voice.
Ronin felt alive with her. That wasn’t proof of a real emotional attachment, wasn’t a declaration of something more. He felt obligated to protect her, enjoyed rolling around in bed with her, and thought talking to her was more interesting than talking to himself, at least for the time being.
Why hope for anything greater than that? Wasn’t it enough?
His gaze searched her face as he stroked her cheek with his thumb. “I don’t think I was.”
Settling a hand atop his, Lara closed her eyes. “Let’s leave tonight. We can get the hell out of here before anyone notices.”
“No.”
