Page 101 of Entangled

Because theytrustme.

Jaykob is out on his patrol duty again, and Jasper was cursing over taking his turn to cook.

And so, I stare. In the flames, I see myself tearfully confessing to Dom. I see him and Heather, furious and betrayed, casting me from Bristlebrook. I see Jasper’s disappointment, and Beau’s conflict over who to side with... only for him to choose Dom. He’ll always choose Dom. I see Lucky being torn up, but ultimately backing down—deferring to the others as he tends to do.

I think Jaykob might follow me, but who knows? For all that he takes me like he never wants to leave my arms, he’s hardly bared his soul. In fact, he actively avoids having a conversation with me whenever possible. And whether he’s willing to admit it to himself or not, Bristlebrook is his home, and these men are his family.

It’s incredible how guilt can take you in little nibbles. Bite after tiny bite, you just... disappear.

I haven’t slept in two days, and I’m utterly fried. We’ll arrive at Bristlebrook tomorrow, and I’m just hoping that being back home is enough to fix this. I need to see Beau and Lucky again. I miss them like air.

“It’s a beautiful fire.”

Jasper sits down beside me, but I don’t take my eyes from the flames. He’s had a chance to wash, and he smells like the tea he’s drinking. He offers me a tin cup rippling with more of the same, and I take it. It feels overly hot in my chilled fingers.

The fire flickers and writhes. “Is it beautiful?” I ask. “One wrong flare and everything around us goes up. Just like Bristlebrook.”

“Hmm.”

Jasper stretches his legs out in front of us, toward the fire. “We take our precautions, of course. Build it sensibly. But there’s always that risk, yes.”

A log falls in the fire—and it looks like Jaykob’s barn collapsing. My fingers press into my cup until my knuckles whiten.

“On the other hand, without fire, we couldn’t cook our food, would struggle to keep warm... and we wouldn’t have this delicious tea.” He leans in close to me, and his hand cups mine under the metal and lifts it gently. “Drink, Eden.”

Something in the implicit order wakes me up, and I blink away from the fire. After a moment, I take a deep sip, and Jasper settles back beside me.

I can’t get used to him like this. He’s groomed as well as possible under the circumstances, but he’s still in Ranger’s clothes, and far less formal than I’ve ever seen him. That bothersome, intriguing strand of sable hair falls over his forehead.

“People have been known to write down their thoughts, their hopes, and then burn them in flames like these. A kind of cleansing.” His eyes are intent, but I don’t have the energy to try and retreat from him tonight.

I glance toward the raging heat.

“We’d need a bigger fire,” I mutter.

“I have a pen and paper, if you’d like to try it,” he offers. “I can’t speak to the spiritual aspect, but writing things down can be cathartic in itself—if you don’t want to talk.”

“I don’t.” It’s a little too sharp, like the edges of brittle honeycomb waiting to be snapped.

Jasper doesn’t seem to take offense, just inclines his head.

I let out a long breath. “I don’t want to write either. I just want to get back to Bristlebrook. Things will be better there.”

He watches me, lying back on his elbows, and the light trips over his face, turning him one minute infernal, the next, angelic.

“Hmm.”

He’s beautiful enough to make my breath catch, but that little sound has me shooting him an edged look. It’s his “too polite to disagree” sound, and I’ve heard it often of late.

“I’m sure you’ll be pleased to see Beaumont,” he says. “And Lucien.”

At the change of subject, I survey him under my glasses. Even when we’re not playing chess, it always feels as though we are.

I’m not sure if this is him not wanting me on defense, or if it’s a new kind of attack.

“I can’t wait.”

Jasper’s eyebrows twitch just slightly at my tone, and I relent. “I need to see for myself that they’re okay.”

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