Page 170 of Those Who Are Bound

But he never imagined that it would lead to this: him staring at an empty road as if she’d re-appear, change her mind, come to her senses. He shook his head, his desperate gaze fixed. “We were interrupted yesterday evening. We kept getting interrupted.” He grimaced, finally looking down into her upturned face.

Lucy mirrored his expression.

“I wanted to talk to her this morning, feel her out. She said something last night before I walked away that sounded… definitive, more than a statement in the moment.” Glancing around suddenly, blinking, he said more to himself than to her, “It was. And I let myself be distracted from it.”

Several of their group were still gawking at them, some looking guilty, some looking sympathetic. He hated that he resented them right now; it wasn’t what he was supposed to feel. But Elliott…

“What set her off to the point that she’d jump on Josh’s bike and go?”

He laughed ruefully. “We were interrupted.Again.She snapped at Gretchen, pointing out that we were talking. I berated her and asked her to be polite.” He sighed heavily. “It didn’t go well.”

Even as he’d chided Elliott, he knew he’d been wrong to do it. But her mood this morning, her withdrawn demeanor, had him on edge. He’d snapped. She snapped back even harder. What he hadn’t known was that she’d had an exit plan.

“You guyswereconstantly interrupted. I should have slept in the van or something, and let you two have the tent.”

“I should have… I don’t know… prepared her better.” He made a sound not unlike that of a wounded animal as he looked at the trees again. “I should go after them.”

Lucy shook her head, rubbing his arm. “That’ll piss her off. And you need to calm down before you get on your bike. She’ll be fine. Josh and his crew have been riding for years. You’ll see her tonight, and you can have make-up sex.”

He appreciated her attempt to cheer him up, but the worry didn’t go away.

“Besides, we still have a campsite to break down. The distraction will be good for you.”

“Do you know his last name?”

She hesitated, which meant no. “It doesn’t matter. He’ll be a distant memory in a few hours.”

Jonah gave her a searing look; it mattered. “More can go wrong than an accident.”

She faltered, then declared, “And Elliott will feed him his balls.”

He blanched. It wasn’t something he wanted to imagine, the thought that Elliott would be put in a situation where she might need to defend herself.

“Jonah, of any woman on Earth, I’d put my money on Elliott.”

It didn’t make him feel better, no matter how true the words were.

“Come on, the sooner we break camp, the faster we can get on the road behind them.”

He nodded.

“What did you say to her, anyway? After you put the helmet on her, you said something to her. She hesitated. What did you say?”

Jonah cast another glance toward the road again. “I asked her not to go.”

It took longer than he’d anticipated. The people, despite sensing Jonah’s mood and urgency, still lollygagged and tried to drag out their morning shenanigans. Lucy lost her cool, finally chiding them and getting their asses in gear, knowing that Jonah wouldn’t berate them, no matter how many heart attacks he was having.

That’s why she was his friend; she knew when to step in. She took care of him, too.

Finally, they were driving out of the place. He was tense for most of the ride, missing Elliott’s arms around him already, her body pressed against his. How quickly he’d gotten accustomed to having her wrapped around him.

He began to relax when more familiar landmarks came into view, signaling that he was closer to the city. Closer to her, and getting answers from her. But, as the city traffic thickened, the lanes became congested.

Jonah maneuvered the bike toward the shoulder to keep it in motion as they eased forward. Lucy kept the van on his tail so no one would swoop in and hit him. Flashing lights appeared ahead of them; it looked like a wreck.

The next thing he knew, Jonah was swerving onto the shoulder. His movements were as frantic as his skyrocketing pulse, even as he tried to calm himself. He parked the bike and leapt off.

He tried to keep the mantra in his head that he had to remain calm, but ripped off his helmet as he ran down the length of the shoulder. Because in the ditch was a bent bright green custom-built motorcycle. Near it was a white tent—the kind they used to hide a body.

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