Chapter Twenty-Five
Kini had to admit, the spot Smoke had found for her to rest and wait for him was a good one. Sheltered and relatively safe, she was able to roll back the hypervigilant state she’d been in since those boys had put a paper bag over her head.
Why was the world so full of stupid people?
Bruce was still making all kinds of noise in the trees, shooting off his mouth and his gun. In the trees. He’d made it down into the canyon.
A single shot rang out, different than all the ones that had echoed through the canyon before. This one had a deeper pitch. A different weapon.
Smoke.
Had he killed Bruce? He hadn’t made her any promises, and maybe he didn’t have a choice, but the thought made her want to scream at the injustice. The first man she’d met who made her inner demons go quiet was now the man with the gun.
Nausea rolled over her, making her muscles ache and shake, and a light sweat to break out over her skin. No, Smoke. He didn’t need the cost of another soul on his conscience.
A high-pitched scream echoed around her then was cut off abruptly. Who was that?
Seconds turned into minutes before a figure, tall and broad shouldered, came around the outcrop. Full dark had descended, and it made him look more like shadow than a man.
“Smoke?” she asked, barely above a whisper, terrified she was wrong. Again.
“Who were you expecting, Mary Poppins?”
What?
Her jaw had dropped. She closed it, trying to grasp why he looked so angry. At her.
She hadn’t done anything but sit where he put her and wait for him.
“It was an honest mistake,” she said with a fake smile. “I mistook your rifle for an umbrella.”
He’d been moving toward her at an even pace, but at her words, he stopped and stared at her from underneath his eyebrows. And said nothing.
She sealed her lips shut, determined to make him say the next word.
He’d had a lot more practice than she did at this particular contest, though. His face never moved.
Finally, she couldn’t stand it. She leaned forward and hissed through clenched teeth, “I thought you might have gotten shot.”
Now he frowned. “Oh.” He glanced away then cleared this throat. “I didn’t kill him. Just shot him through the leg a little.”
I didn’t kill him, four little words, one big result. Smoke hadn’t killed. His moral compass hadn’t been destroyed. Dented, dinged, and dirty it might be, but he still had it.
Warmth spread out from her chest through her entire body, wiping away the pain of her lacerations and bruises and the fuzzy edges of exhaustion. He hadn’t killed.
Then the full meaning of his words registered. “You shot him through the leg a little?” she asked, incredulous. “How does one do that? I mean…a little, what…” She sputtered and waved her hands around. “What does that even mean?”
“It means he’s alive, and he’ll stay that way.” Smoke tilted his head to one side and considered the ground thoughtfully. “Probably.”
“Bleed to death kind of probably?”
“No, I bandaged the bullet wound, but…” He glanced away with a distinct guilty expression. “The bullet fractured his leg.”
“So, by probably you mean he needs someone to find him and take him to a hospital.”
“Yep.” Smoke gave her an almost smile. “But not for a couple hours. Maybe even three or four. The asshole deserves that much.”
Well, this was better than just murdering the man.
“Fine.” She huffed out a breath as the endorphin rush began to ebb. “Can we go now? I’m so tired I don’t even know what day this is.”
Smoke opened his mouth, looked at her, then closed it again without saying anything.
Smart man.
She extended her hand, offering him the gun he’d given her. He took it and holstered it—tucked inside the rear waistband of his jeans.
She grabbed his outstretched hand, and he pulled her to her feet. Dizziness made gravity optional, and she found herself plastered up against Smoke’s body, his arms around her as he held her up.
“Sorry,” she said, breathing deep, trying to stave off unconsciousness. “My knees have apparently gone on strike and the negotiations for a new contract aren’t going well.” Damn it, she couldn’t fall apart now; they were in no way safe.
“Would an incentive package help?” he asked.
She raised her head to meet his gaze. “Wha—”
He kissed her. A long, lingering slide of his lips against hers. He sucked on her bottom lip, coaxing her mouth open, then licked at her tongue. Slowly, like they had all the time in the world.
She hung on to him, her hands gripping the back of his shirt to keep herself upright, to keep him close.
One of his hands cupped her butt, pulling her into full contact with the erection inside his jeans.
She wiggled and was rewarded with a groan emanating from deep in his chest.
His breathing grew as fast and choppy as hers. He ended the kiss and rested his forehead against her. “Good to go?”
She chuckled, still trying to catch her breath. “My knees have voted to accept your incentive package on the condition that it’s delivered on demand.”
He laughed out loud. Then he took her hand and they continued down the canyon.
After a few minutes, the adrenaline wore off to such an extent her muscles shook with the effort to keep her upright. A couple of times she caught herself falling asleep while walking, waking only when she began to list too far to one side.
“Smoke?” Her foot caught on a root and she would have fallen if it weren’t for his grip on her hand. “I don’t think I’m going to last much longer.” Disappointment in herself turned to despair. She was going to get him killed. “I’m slowing you down. It will get us both caught. You should lea—”
He spun, got within a couple of inches from her face, and said in a low growl, “No.”
“But—”
“No.” There was no give to him. No compromise. A muscle in his jaw jumped, telling her he was good and angry. At her.
She swallowed and blinked away the burning sensation in her eyes. “What do we do?”
He stared at her a moment longer, as if daring her to suggest he leave her behind again. When she just waited, he relaxed a little.
“There are a couple of spots along the canyon where we could rest for a bit.” He took a step closer. “No complaining if I decide to carry you.”
She rolled her eyes and started walking again. Smoke caught up and passed her, but kept within a few paces, checking on her often as he scanned the way ahead and monitored for activity behind them.
After about fifteen minutes of walking, Smoke went down into a crouch and pulled his rifle up so he could look up through the scope at the north edge of the canyon. Though it was dark, it was a clear night and the moon was bright enough to allow him to see.
Kini joined him, crouched a foot or two away, listening hard. At first, she couldn’t hear anything that might have set off his alarm bells, but within a few seconds, distant but distinct voices sounded. Male voices.
“…repeated gunshots,” one voice said.
“It’s probably a local out hunting,” another said.
“Hunting what?” the first man asked. “There’s nothing out here but that broken-down farm on the other side of the canyon.”
Kini glanced at Smoke. She’d bet a year’s salary he’d find something to hunt, other than people, out here.
So, what were these two city guys doing out in the desert?
“It’s probably that asshole at the farm, then. He likes to think he’s middle management rather than a number on the factory floor.”
The voices sounded close. Through the foliage, two men stood at the top of the cliff face, looking out over the canyon and beyond.
“I don’t hear anything now, but something is burning,” the first man said. “Is that smoke?”
“I’ll give the asshole a call, make sure he isn’t fucking around,” the second said. “And I’ll tell him to stop shooting at shit for fun. We have enough to do.” The two men turned and disappeared.
Smoke didn’t move from his crouch, didn’t so much as breathe for a couple of minutes. His hands remained steady, his rifle pointed at the space where the edge of the canyon met the sky.
The muscles in Kini’s thighs and butt burned from holding one position for so long. A trickle of sweat ran down her back. The temperature had gone down with the sun, but she was still thirsty. At least now she didn’t feel like every molecule of water was being yanked out of her throat every time she opened her mouth.
Eventually, Smoke relaxed and stood. He held out his hand and helped her get to her feet all while scanning all around them and above them, for…what? Enemies? Bad guys?
A phone rang. She’d heard that song coming out of Bruce’s phone. Though they’d been walking a while the sound carried a long way.
She stared at Smoke, the bottom of her stomach gone and gravity pulling the rest of her into a black hole.
He met her gaze, nodded once, and set off at a ground-eating pace she doubted she could keep up with. Her whole body hurt and every laceration stung, thanks to the sweat coating her skin. Her feet seemed to weigh twenty pounds each, and every step pushed her closer to unconsciousness.
She stumbled, but caught herself and kept going. The second time she stumbled, Smoke caught her.
She put her hands on his biceps and stared at her shaking hands like she’d never seen them before. “I think I’m tapped out.”
Smoke didn’t say anything, didn’t make a sound, just picked her up and cradled her close to his chest.
“I know you’re in shape, but…how long do you think you can carry me?”
“Long enough,” he said, his breathing perfectly normal.
Show off.
He walked along the creek bed at the base of the canyon and somehow managed to not lose his footing once. She dozed off, put to sleep by the steady rocking motion of his stride and the safety in his arms.
Never had a man felt as safe as Smoke did. Safe, dependable, and strong—qualities she’d never expected to find in a man, not after the betrayal of her childhood. Maybe she was so desperate for hope, for a good man, she was seeing things in Smoke that weren’t really there.
Trying to understand herself and someone else would have to wait until she’d had more sleep.
Time took on a hazy quality, and the next thing she knew Smoke was kneeling on the ground, still holding her.
“Kini?” he asked in a soft voice that nonetheless got her attention.
She tried to sit up and he let go of her legs. A glance around told her she had no idea where they were.
“How long did I sleep?”
“About fifteen minutes.”
It felt longer than that. “I think I can walk on my own now.”
“Good, because company’s coming.”
“What?”
“The Texan was found faster than I’d hoped,” Smoke whispered. “We’re being tracked.”
She looked at her feet and his. “I’ll probably make a trail a mile wide for anyone to follow.” And get you killed.
“That’s what I’m counting on.”
“Huh?”
“A false trail for the city boys to follow while we go another way.”
The plan was probably supposed to reassure her, but she couldn’t seem to wrap her brain around it. She was so fucking tired.
Her despair must have registered on her face because Smoke cupped her jaw with one large hand and leaned close to say, “You’ll be able to rest soon.”
As in dead?
He saw the unspoken question as soon as the thought surfaced in her head and scowled at her.
Geez, she might as well be wearing a neon sign tacked to her nose.
“Safe,” he growled.
She sighed and waved her hands at him. “Let’s go before I think something unforgivable.”
His only answer was to grunt and take her hand, pulling her along next to him until her body accepted the forward momentum and kept moving of its own accord.
“In my defense, I think I’m tired enough to plead mental incapacitation.”
He didn’t say anything for so long she was sure he wasn’t going to, until he slanted her a scorching hot look. “Too bad. I was going to eat you out later.”
Her jaw dropped as a wave of heat and longing rolled over her and dumped energy into her overtired muscles. She pictured his head between her thighs all too easily. His blue eyes watching her watch him as she writhed beneath him.
She tried to take in a breath, but her diaphragm didn’t seem to be working. After a brief struggle to convince her body to function somewhat normally again, she managed to ask, “Could I take a rain check?”
The shit-eating grin on his face erased all the hurt from her body, leaving nothing but anticipation behind. For about two minutes. Then the dull ache settled over her like an unwanted blanket on a hot day.
She stumbled, weaved, and wobbled all over the place. Smoke nodded in approval at one point when she tripped and fell to her hands and knees. At least one of them was happy with the drunken trail she was leaving.
He angled his head to the south side of the canyon. “See that washout? It goes all the way to the top of the canyon. That’s the false trail.”
“Where are we going really?”
“A spot farther to the west.”
“And why aren’t we using the washout to get out of here and go for help?”
“It’s the obvious choice. The easy choice. The only choice in sight to someone who didn’t grow up here.”
“You’re assuming that the bad guys don’t have someone who grew up here on their payroll.”
“Yeah, but they know you didn’t.”
“True.”
She stared with bleary eyes at the steep washout. “I have to climb that and make it look like I did it myself?”
“Yup.”
Her thighs ached already. “You suck.”