Families pause in their business as I pass, watching me warily, and I wish I knew how to show them I’m not a damn threat. There are too many vulnerable people here, and I have no idea what to do with them.
I know that Sam wants them.
I need to get out of here. It’s time to get back to Bristlebrook. We’ve got what we came for, and that’s enough. There’s no need to borrow trouble by staying.
Except Heat is here. Heat is here and Sam wants her too.
“What?” she prompts, looking back at me, and I realize I’m staring at her again.
“Nothing.” I shake my head.
She tilts her head, and her red hair falls to the side. I used to love that hair, was obsessed with the fire of it. The fire of her.
I wait for lust to punch me in the gut, the way I remember it.
But the hit doesn’t land.
Her lips curve up in a teasing tilt, but her eyes are sad. “Does that mean you don’t hate me anymore, CC?”
CC. Captain Cutie. The stupid nickname that used to make me want to spank her, though that urge doesn’t find me now either.
Our fight before she left was like a drone strike. It left me in ashes, and her retreating back must have caught its own burns. Memories haunt her eyes, and it’s regret that comes for me now. I said a lot back then. A lot I shouldn’t have.
But she’s the one who walked out of Bristlebrook with Thomas, taking the rest of our civilians with her. Civilians who would rather leave a luxury damn lodge and all the protection we offered than deal with me as their leader.
And so did she.
I never hated her for it—only myself—but right now, I’m too aware of the gaunt faces around me. Of Bristlebrook all those miles away, blown out and burned up. I’m too busy remembering Lucky lying on the floor like a ready-made ghost, blood pumping from his chest... and Eden, soot-stained and determined. Eden, who was sick over killing one Sinner and now apparently wiped out half a dozen. Eden, covered in bruises and her wrists sawed almost in two from too-tight bindings.
So I don’t want to fucking flirt.
I want answers.
I need to know if she’s the reason for this shitshow.
“We need to talk,” I say, and Heather’s smile fades.
She nods, and in her eyes, I see the woman who saved my life replace the one who left me. She’s all business.
“Let me check on the crew and then we can go over everything.”
I follow behind her, trying to work out why I feel so... off. I don’t know what I expected to feel if I saw her again, but I thought it would be more.
I study her hair, her walk that manages to be confident even with a limp. Her ass.
Nothing.
I frown. Exhaustion, that has to be it. It’s been more than two weeks, and I’m running on fumes. I’ve spent the last three years thinking about Heather. Hating her, wanting her, missing her so badly my lungs ached in my chest.
She saved my life the night we met, back after Day Death when we were trying to get our convoy of civilians back to Bristlebrook. We were raided on the road and took heavy losses. I would have been one of them if she hadn’t come out of nowhere like a storm of fury and plugged the two guys pinning me.
After that, Heather became the best friend I ever had, besides Beau. So, I should be wanting to rip her clothes from her body. I should want to make her regret ever choosing Thomas over me. He should be here so I can punch him for leaving us without a word of goodbye.
But the urge is as absent as he is.
We spill out into the main cave, and people are milling about everywhere. So many and in such a disorganized mass that I feel instantly claustrophobic, but my gaze quickly finds Eden standing between Jaykob and Jasper, and my shoulders unknot.
Jaykob has his arm slung over her shoulder, so possessively he might as well collar her right there. Irritation pricks me. I told him she ended the deal—why the fuck is he still hanging off her? Ifshewants Jayk, then all power to her. When we talked by the river, she hadn’t seemed opposed. But I swear to God, if he’s giving her a hard time after everything she’s been through, then?—