Page 3

Beau

If it looks like a trap, and it smells like a trap,

then by all that’s holy, do not put your dick in that trap.

Slap.

The mosquito zips from under my hand, and I glare as it buzzes off to join its asshole friends.

That speedy bastard got me yesterday, I’m sure of it.

Now word of the delicious Beaumont snacksicle has spread and there are hordes of the little suckers soaring in from every swampy ass crack of the forest to get their slurp.

Our trip so far has been hot and wet, I’m so covered in bites I’m about ready to peel my skin off, and now dusk has them flocking for another feast. I have had enough .

This blood bank is closed. Happy hour is over .

That legion of tiny flying vampires is going to have to get their Bloody Beaumont somewhere else.

Slap .

Another mosquito flits off, unsquashed.

Son of a bitch.

Apparently unconcerned by the airborne infestation, our exhausted group is gathered around the fire.

Once again, everyone’s focused on their own meal, quietly tearing into their remaining rations.

No one mentions what happened back at the Den.

No one mentions our breakneck pace, or Heather, or Alastair’s threats of more, or Red Zone’s expectations.

Not one of them mentions how, each night, our portions get smaller and smaller as we try to conserve rations.

We all know it’s about to get a whole lot worse.

Standing back and watching the group, I try not to stare at their food like the little match girl through the window. I hit the end of my rations at lunch, and my stomach has been kicking up a loud protest all day. I don’t want to think about how long it might be before my next meal.

As if to top all that off, it’s been rudely hot for fall, the civilians are spent and defeated, Jasper’s been clucking around like a fretting hen, Lucky’s snappish and downright rude, and Eden... Well, Eden seems to be holding strong for everyone. Eden seems just fine .

Not sure that she’d think to tell me if she wasn’t.

So, it’s not even my fault I got through my rations so fast. I’m a stress eater, and this last week? This week has tested my patience to the end of days.

And then there’s Dom.

He’s nowhere to be found. Again. No, sir, once again, I’m left reading maps and deciding where to camp and who’s on watch. Because Dom has gone running off by himself. To “fish.” Again .

He hasn’t said two words about what went down, or how we lost a whole pile of weapons and all the meds I brought with me.

Hell, he hasn’t even tried to talk to me about a plan.

But sure, he’s fishing . Used to be I’d drag him off to spar and we’d bounce ideas while he beat my ass into the dirt.

. . but it’s been a long time since we did anything like that.

Maybe that’s the problem.

I’m not sure who Dom has to talk to these days.

My stomach cramps, and I scowl down at it. I’m hungry , that’s all it is. Dom will be okay. Of course he will. He’ll figure it out.

By the fire, Jasper polishes off the last of his meal, and my vision hazes dizzily. This is getting serious. I am faint . From the woodsmoke, maybe, or maybe from the hunger.

Slap.

Another mosquito corpse drops into the leaves under my feet.

Or maybe I’m dizzy because of the massive blood loss from these good-for-nothing, blood-sucking swamp demons . I’m not having it. I’ll be damned if these tiny bastards eat better than me.

I scowl down at the splattered body. Damn it, nothing is going right, not for days. We should get back to Bristlebrook tomorrow night—and as far as I’m concerned, we can’t get there any sooner. Food and rest will sort everyone out, my mama was right about that.

“Here.” Eden pops up by my elbow, appearing out of the smoke like a mirage.

I flinch. “Holy flaming hell.”

My senses aren’t what they should be. My body is eating itself.

Eden lifts the bundle in her hands higher, her eyes big and serious behind her glasses. She’s closer than she’s been since the Den, and she looks... good. She’s not sweaty and lumpy with mosquito bites.

She’s prettier than she has any right to be.

She’s pretty enough to hurt.

I edge backward.

“Ah, sorry, darlin’, I was just in the middle of...” I glance around, realizing I’m not in the middle of anything, actually.

Around the fire, the group is starting to break up and move toward their packs, getting ready to make camp for the night.

Jasper stretches out like he’s settling in, though, and Lucky hovers a few feet away, leaning against a tree and not even bothering to hide the edgy way he’s watching Eden.

We’ve been traveling for days, and he hasn’t so much as let her pee without inspecting the bushes first. Poor guy is having a rough time.

So, it’s not that I’ve been avoiding Eden. Lucky’s just needed her more.

In fact, I bet he needs her right now.

When I catch his eye, I glance back at Eden significantly. Lucky frowns at me behind her back, then points to her. I shake my head minutely, and he glares and points harder.

Eden glances over her shoulder, and Lucky brings his hand up to rub the back of his head. He looks up, inspecting the tree canopy, nodding to himself casually.

“I’m sure you and Lucky need to talk some more,” I say, edging backward.

She looks back at me and purses her lips. “Lucky and I have talked plenty.”

Her braided hair is draped over her shoulder, and sprigs of lavender are worked into the plaits.

That braid would be perfect for tugging.

She has gorgeous hair. I could wrap it around my wrist and scrape my nails along her scalp just the way she likes it.

She’d make that sound again, like she’s breaking apart.

But like it has every night since we left Cyanide, the urge is chased by something else. Something sore and sorry and tinged with?—

No. No . Eden is kind-hearted to a fault. She’s been through so much. You’d have to be a real asshole to have a problem with a girl like that after all she’s had to face. She’s fine. We’re fine.

I back up some more.

We’re absolutely perfect.

Eden peels back the corner of the package, a determined light in her eyes. Jerky and dried apple peek from the cloth. “Come sit by the fire and have something to eat with me.”

I stop in my tracks.

The jerky is sweating in the heat, the apple shriveled and curled at the edges, but my stomach goes into revolt, ripping out a roar so loud it ripples the trees. It’s a banquet .

It’s a trap.

I lick my lips—just to check I’m not drooling over my chin. “I’m not taking your food, pet.”

“I could last another week on what I have left. You need to eat,” she insists.

It takes my starved, sluggish brain a minute to catch up. She has more than this ?

I frown. “How could you have a whole week of rations left? We’ll be back at Bristlebrook tomorrow. You should be almost out.”

Eden raises a brow over her glasses. “I’m used to living on much less than this. Don’t worry about me.”

My stomach swoops... and lands hard. She’s deliberately eating less than she needs. She’s still worried about where her next meal is coming from.

And between Alastair clearing us out, us not securing any food, and the fact that we have dozens of hungry mouths back home... she should be.

A pointed smile quirks her lips before I can comment. “Rationing is also much easier when you don’t try to eat all your feelings. Some of us prefer to talk those through instead.”

My back hits a tree, and I splutter. “I do not have feelings!”

“Of course not. So, there’s no reason you shouldn’t come and eat with me.” Eden’s smile firms, and she steps in whisper-close. “And talk .”

She smells like lavender and lies.

“Why are you pushing this? There’s no problem here,” I insist, forcing a smile.

But Eden doesn’t relax. Her eyes search my face, growing graver as she takes in my smile.

I grit my teeth behind my smile. “I’m. Not. Mad.”

“You’re mad,” she repeats slowly, watching me.

She lowers the food. Her throat works delicately as she swallows, and the hurt in her rips at my heart.

I’m familiar with every expression turning through those eyes.

I woke up to them for weeks. Watched them as she told me everything—all her secret thoughts and feelings.

Well. Almost all of them.

“I said I’m not mad.” I run a hand over my head, looking back over to Lucky for help, but he’s still examining the trees like he’s shooting for a career in dendrology.

“It’s okay, you know. If you are. You have every right.”

I look back down at Eden, and her soft, serious expression. It breaks my heart. I know I should hug her—just wrap her in my arms and make it all better. My mama always said that a man who makes women cry is no man at all. I’ll be damned if I’m ever the one to upset Eden.

I reach out for that hug, but for some reason, I find myself patting her shoulder awkwardly instead.

She looks at my hand with a dubious expression, then back at me. “Beau...”

The air is starting to sour, and I can only guess it’s the smoke. And the heat. It’s an uncomfortable day.

A mosquito starts buzzing around my head, and I grit my teeth.

Then I force a smile for Eden. “No, darlin’.

I have no reason to be mad at you. You were going through a lot.

Who am I to judge your choices, right? I wasn’t even there.

I mean, I was next to you, afterwards. For weeks.

Living with you. You could have trusted me.

But everyone’s allowed privacy, and I can respect that. ”

Eden sighs. “Beau, that’s not?—”

Sweat starts gathering under my arms. Why is it so damn hot today? “You’ve beaten yourself up enough. We have plenty of other problems to focus on. Doesn’t seem right to keep living in the past. What’s the point in all that?”

“Because you clearly have some valid?—”