Page 49

Beau

Good friends watch each other’s backs.

Best friends bust each other’s balls.

In the distance, Cole strips his shirt off, tossing it down, and he looks more like some kind of GQ city boy than anyone who works a farm.

Crouched in the bushes beside Jayk, I scowl at the man standing right in front of our target.

It’s not right for him to look like that.

Those right there are pretty muscles, not working muscles.

I should know, because I have the same ones.

Which is also how I know that Eden likes them. She likes them a whole damn lot.

I scan over Bristlebrook’s lawn, but I can’t see her anywhere. Can’t see half the civilians, for that matter. The defenses are manned, and they’ve got people on watch all right. But I don’t see Sloane or Ava, or Ethel or Ida—none of the usual suspects who usually ride at the front of the pack.

I also don’t see our distraction.

The Reapers are everywhere.

Now, I don’t know if it’s because they’re away from the natural tugs of their land—from the early morning drag to the fields, and the exhausted press toward an early night—but they don’t seem to be readying to get their beauty sleep any time soon.

They’re swarming over their camp, chattering and laughing, occasionally calling out friendly jibes at the women standing armed at their posts.

A few of the civilians have ventured closer.

Mila is all but tipping into the moat, chattering away with a pair of younger Reapers who can’t seem to throw her bread fast enough.

In the forest ahead of us, I catch flashes of Lucky’s blond hair, Jasper’s back, and Dom’s shoulders as they move into position. They’ll be doing the ole snatch-and-grab of the supplies while Jayk and I cover them.

The targeted supplies lie right on the edge of the Reapers’ camp, right at the head of it beside Sawyer and Cole’s tents.

Our delicious, delicious target.

Even from this distance, even awkwardly through the trees, I can see it all. Bag upon bag of hardy bread and sweet apples spill open. Dried meat and jarred preserves. Flour and honey and hard, packaged cheese. Feasts’ worth of food. Lives’ worth of food.

My stomach rumbles, clawing at me to get it. To take it all. It’s one of three stockpiles the Reapers seem to have brought with them, and the only real question we have is: how much can we carry?

Jayk yanks me back by my collar, and I choke as I fall back.

“Cool your jets, doc,” he mutters.

A Reaper passes right by us, focused on his fidget spinner, and I touch my throat, glancing at Jayk. He’s rougher than usual, unshaven and painted down in camo.

Well, I’ll be.

He does care.

Which only serves to make me feel even more guilty for the shots I got in on him this morning. They were below the belt.

Well, some of them—some of them were entirely fair—but I was still the worst kind of asshole to him. I’ll make it up to him, and not just for Eden’s sake. I’ll do it for mine, too.

Admitting it is the first step.

Jayk flashes me a glance, then rolls his eyes. “We need to get closer.”

I nod as he starts moving around. “Sure thing. Got your six, King.”

Jayk pauses, looking back, and I pause. “What? You drop something?”

Slowly, he shakes his head, looking at me all strange .

I raise my brows in question. “Is this about Eden? Really, I am happy to talk but now is hardly the best time.”

He scowls, shaking his head, then pushes through the trees behind me without a word, and I sigh.

That man can be downright mercurial.

Still, I follow quickly. It’s a good night. Clear and bright, and the damp air is finally cooling enough to enjoy. Small branches whip my face and twigs crack under my boots as we move, and my pulse starts to thrum as the action catches up to me.

This kind of op is delicate. Charged. It relies so much on timing, always just a hair-trigger away from going deadly wrong. With dozens of active combatants awake and at the ready, and us outnumbered, we’ve got to be more than careful.

We’ve got to be a team.

Jayk slinks from cover to cover, behind trees and boulders and creeping low under branches that would disturb the forest’s stillness enough to catch attention. For his size, he’s light on his feet, and that comes as much from his hunting kinks as it does from Ranger training.

He’s rounding out behind a heavy boulder, where we’re supposed to be positioned. That boulder will give us cover, and a clear line on the food so we can cover the others as they move in.

I’m a half dozen steps behind him when I see it.

A Reaper shakes himself off, zipping up as he steps out from behind a bush, a shotgun leaning against a tree next to him. He’s a little ways away, but...

If he turns, he’s going to see Jayk.

Blood rushes to my head, and I slam into action. Bolting forward, I crash against Jayk’s back a moment later, throwing us behind a willow tree. Our legs tangle up, and we go down hard. Dried leaves scatter as we roll. My knee chops upward, trying to find purchase, and it crashes against his balls.

“Is someone there?” a wavery voice calls as we land under a dense, prickly bush.

I slap a hand over Jayk’s mouth as he groans into me.

His eyes bulge, and I wince, mouthing an apology. My own balls ache in pure empathy.

“Scott?” someone else calls on the other side of our bush.

“Oh, Jerry. You scared the bejeezus outta me.” The Reaper laughs, relieved. “I was taking a leak.”

Jayk twitches, the muffled sound under my hand almost a whimper.

Yep. That, ah, that came down hard .

Which.. . makes me wonder, briefly, if Eden ever wants kids.

“A leak?” Jerry scoffs, and their footsteps join up. “Sounded more like you were evacuating a badger.”

“Me? You’re the one that’s been bakin’ up keister casseroles all day! I told you not to eat them purple berries. You ain’t gonna impress none of them ladies like that.”

“They’re something, ain’t they? Tough. We’re going to keep ’em safe, right?”

My brows lift.

“Sawyer said we could. The Sinners ain’t going to get their hands on them, even if we...”

It’s almost . . . sweet.

Slowly, their voices fade. Watching for any movement through the forest, I take my hand off Jayk’s mouth. Rising up to a crouch, I hover over him to peer out farther.

“Okay. Okay, I think we’re in the clear.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.”

Jayk’s knee slams up hard between my legs, and I choke. Clutching my balls, I fall to the side in wordless, mindless pain.

He gets up, then hauls me out of the bushes and to my feet. My knees are wobbly, weak, and I bend over, gasping for air.

Jayk pats my back, panting. “Nice save. Thanks.”

I think . . . this means we’re actually bonding .

Wheezing, I force a watery-eyed smile at him, waving it off like it’s nothing.

“Oh, sure.” I’m going to throw up. “Don’t mention it.”