Page 6 of Entangled

By the time Sam pauses to look at him, Mateo’s frown has been replaced by an innocent smile. With his angelic face, he looks like he should be asking for extra lunch money, not trading people like cattle.

Still, I would rather be with bonds-cutting don’t-hurt-women Mateo than Sam, even if Logan and his friends don’t seem to share his sentiment.

“You have Akira, and besides”—Sam grabs my chin, examining my face while I refuse to look at him. His blunt fingers dig painfully into my cheeks. I keep my expression bland, even as my breathing quickens nervously—“I earned this one.”

My stomach lurches. For the first time in days, I’m glad I’ve not had much to eat. I swallow hard around bitter bile.

“We had... an agreement.” Alastair’s wispy voice is faint, but resonant. Sam scowls. “Not while I’m around. It would hurt... our friendship.”

Sam releases my face, pushing my chin away. “Yeah, yeah. We’ll head back to the Den tomorrow, then you won’t need to get your panties in a twist. We’ll make sure she finds a real special job back home.”

Alastair gives him a long look, then nods.

My pathetic flare of hope snuffs out. This man isn’t going out of his way for me. Why should he?

Mateo’s mouth pinches in worry as he looks at Alastair. He’s right to be anxious—Alastair looks three days dead already. Mateo drags over a bag and peels back his friend’s dressing, checking his wounds, and Alastair’s eyes drift shut. It takes a moment, but his chest begins to rise and deflate in a fitful rhythm.

I work my jaw, suppressing a shudder.Escape, escape, escape.The word beats a drum against my skull.

“We’re not going anywhere tomorrow,” Mateo insists, shaking his head. He gently puts the bandage back in place. “We made litters to carry Alastair and Jorge this far, but they can’t take any more. And Sayid’s leg isn’t looking so hot either. We’re staying,presidente.”

Sam’s voice turns coldly condescending. “All the more reason to get back to the Den where there ismedicineanddoctors.”

That makes me blink, then I smooth my features again. They have doctors? Plural? How big is this “den” of theirs? I’ve been assuming, since they targeted Bristlebrook, that they only have a small, unsecured base. But the way they’re talking sends my thoughts spinning.

Or maybe it’s just dehydration.

Logan leans against the tree beside Mateo and Alastair, casual as can be, but he spins his gun like he’s stepped out of a Western. “If we move Alastair or Jorge, they’ll die. If they die, then I don’t think me and the men will be feeling sofriendlyanymore.”

“If we stay here, then those dickheads from the lodge are going to find us with our asses hanging out,” Sam bites out.

Mateo barks a laugh. “The Rangers?Dios,presidente! You don’t know anything, do you?”

“You weren’t there? Is that why you were so far behind us?” Logan pushes off the tree, brows lifting incredulously.

A hint of uncertainty touches Sam’s features as he looks between them, apparently as confused as I am.

Logan shoots a look at Sam that promises bloodshed. “You weren’t eventhere, you motherfucker? Let me guess, you were off keeping your own ass safe, as usual. God, you’re even more of a piece of shit than I thought.”

“Watch it,” someone hisses from behind me. I glance back to see the creepy narrow-featured man crouching over something by the cliff, his attention on Logan and the others.

“Seriously? You’re defending him? Jorge lost an arm in that explosion. Alastair is so full of shrapnel, he’s probably going septic. Benji, Ryder and the others, all dead because of him!” Logan rages, and I see the woman step in beside him, reaching for his shoulder. He shakes her off. “Those bastards from the lodge aren’t going to come after us, Sam. They blew the whole place up, themselves inside it, and took most of us out with them. They’re dead too. The only reason any of us survived was thatwehadn’t cleared the trees yet. It wasluck.”

His words crack my mind with the force of an anvil. They shiver down my spine and make my knees tremble.

I misheard that. I must have. Or he’s wrong. It doesn’t make sense, after all, what he’s saying. It’s absurd.

But even as my dizzy thoughts churn, every stubborn piece of bravery and thin thread of hope turns frail.

Logan rubs his chest.

“And what was the point? There wasn’t a damn woman or child in sight except forher. It was no easy target. And if there were supplies, we sure as hell aren’t getting them now.” His voice turns hoarse. “Fuck ‘rebuilding society.’ Fuck making a new home. Fuck the supplies. I want my friends back.”

A low susurration vibrates through the men, like a discontented hive. The woman, Akira, sucks uneasily on her lower lip as she watches Logan. She’s in love with him. It’s in the soft knit of her brows, the hurt I see in her as she sees him hurting.

Have I ever looked like that? I was getting close, I think.

I guess I’ll never know.

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