Page 97 of Entangled

“Jayk, my man, you need to borrow some sugar?”

“Jayky, up for cribbage later?”

Watching him scowl suspiciously at every gently teasing wave and wink has become the new highlight of my day.

Well, one of them.

As we’ve traveled, Jayk has been stealing me away incessantly—ravaging me quickly against the forest floor, barely bothering to hide us from the crowds, or more thoroughly at night, owning and marking me like he’s branding himself on my body.

I’m not exactly complaining. The bruises that now decorate my skin are far more enjoyable than those I had even a week ago.

But the possessiveness has been... interesting.

He’s been quick to drag me away from Dom and Jasper whenever they wander close, and while it is a touch irritating, it’s also somewhat welcome. For days, Dom has been tethered to Heather, discussing patrols and logistics and plans to guard against Sam returning, and I’m still working out how to talk to either one of them without choking on my own jealousy.

And Jasper has been watching me. Every time I search for him, I find his eyes on me—silent and unbearably intent. I can see his questions lying beneath the surface. All the things he wants to ask about and pick apart and examine. He means well, I’m sure he does, but the thought of peeling myself open for him to inspect makes my palms clammy. I can’t read him, and I’m worried if I let him under my skin again, I’ll never be able to get him out.

So Jayk’s unexpected greed has been a relief.

He’s kept me close at night, too... but while at first the sheer shock of him seemed to shine a light on every dark shadow in my mind, it hasn’t lasted.

Every night, I wake covered in sweat and drowning in my thoughts.

Every night, I hold myself still in his arms and watch the gloom creep toward me as my pulse thunders in my throat.

Every night, it getsworse.

Ethel and Ida are right—I am exhausted. But it’s not from Jaykob’s attentions.

Or not just from that, anyway.

I squeeze out my washcloth beside the little pebbly creek and stand as the others chatter around me. I’m clean but still feel somehow not. With my men alive, Jayk keeping me sated and close, and all of us returning to Bristlebrook with dozens of new friends, things are more hopeful than they’ve been for me in years.

But I can’t shake it.

This feeling like I’m just waiting for the next bad thing to happen—or like it’s already on its way. It’salwayson its way. Things are never okay for long.

And I can’t shake these thoughts that tell me the next time we won’t be so lucky, that we’ve only borrowed time, that my men were meant to be dead, and all the lives I took will have a price.

When the time comes, will I even have the courage to pay it?

I step back from the creek, the others fading away, and in my mind, it becomes the woods after the poisoning, and I’m stepping away from Heather as men converge on her. I’m abandoning my friend to die. I’m saving my own skin. I couldn’t skulk in the shadows, or hide in tree branches, then, and in the light, I’m a coward. Now the shadows are punishing me. They’re?—

Another hoarse yell cracks through the night, followed by a string of Spanish and a burst of birds fleeing the trees.

I flinch, turning toward the sound, my chest heavy.

“I’m going to head back to camp,” I murmur to Ava, and she waves me off, though she also darts a look toward the trees as I move away.

When I broached the subject of the captives with her yesterday, she just shrugged. She trusts Heather with her life.

They all do.

Mateo’s sickening shouts dwindle, but I find myself moving toward the chilling absence of sound, veering away from the straight route back to our sleeping pallets that Jaykob growled at me to take.

Yet it’s still almost a surprise when I find myself in the shaded nook in front of where Alastair and Mateo are tied. Alastair’s face is swollen and bloodied, his breathing shallow, his head resting on Mateo’s shoulder.

I pause in front of them, feeling nauseous.

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