Page 17 of Manhunt in the Narrows (Red Rock Murders #1)

It took longer to set up the tent than it should have.

Between the gashes on her palms and the wound in Elias’s side, they were moving slower than either of them wanted, but the storm had given them a slight reprieve.

In the end, neither of them had even bothered pretending to want to sleep in separate tents.

They didn’t have the energy by the time they’d collapsed onto their sleeping bags or to fight the incessant need for warmth. And connection, in her case.

Sayles stripped free of her wet uniform with sore muscles that fought her at every turn as Elias did the same on the other side of the tent.

There really wasn’t that much room between them.

Her tent had been structured for one person, and she collided with his shoulder or arm more than once as the weight of this assignment pressed in.

A single spear of sunlight reached the bottom of the canyon, but seemed to go out of its way to avoid them, and she couldn’t fight the responding chill.

They hadn’t spoken a word to each other since descending down that too-thin goat trail that’d nearly killed them.

Didn’t want to acknowledge the fact that the Hitchhiker Killer had gotten away, that he had won, leaving them to do nothing but lick their wounds.

Elias had held her hand the entire time, as if he couldn’t stand the thought of letting her out of his reach, and she’d been just as desperate.

Her awareness of the federal agent prodding at the medical tape from his bare torso only grew through the unending exhaustion trying to drag her down.

He’d come for her. Risked his life for her.

Saved her. “Thank you” didn’t feel like enough.

Elias flinched against some invisible pain as he lifted the tape and gauze to get a better view of his wound.

“Here. Let me.” Relieved of her soaked uniform, she realized she should’ve been embarrassed about the fact there was nothing between them other than the thin material of her oversize T-shirt from her recovered pack.

But she couldn’t summon the internal argument.

Sayles skimmed her fingers around the edge of the dressing, reveling in his instant body heat soothing the scrapes on her hands, and peeled the gauze away to get a better look.

He’d done a good job cleaning the small hole.

Managed to stop the bleeding. “It doesn’t look so bad. What did you clean it with?”

“My drinking water.” His voice sounded as though it’d been raked over gravel. From screaming, from tiredness, from debris in the water he’d swallowed. Almost…broken.

The effect chased back that relentless need to keep her mask in place, to be the woman he’d met in the visitors’ center.

The one who could keep herself together despite their circumstances.

Maybe right now she could just…be. Acknowledge that they’d been through something terrible and leave expectations outside the tent.

As rewarding as it’d been to disappear in Zion, to start making her own choices and discover who she was without a manipulative bastard calling the shots, wasn’t letting go another kind of freedom? “Good choice.”

“I learned from the best.” The weight of his gaze burned her scalp, but Elias held utterly still as she inspected the wound.

It wasn’t deadly. However, infection took root in all kinds of circumstances, and they couldn’t take the chance.

Not with the killer still out there. Potentially watching them as he had these past two days.

Grabbing for her pack, she twisted to pull her first aid kit free and spread the supplies she’d need. “You mean my survival cards.”

“No. Not the cards.” The whisper contradicted the fierceness with which he’d kissed her on that trail.

As though his entire being depended on consuming her from the inside out.

He’d done a fantastic job. She could still feel the press of his mouth against hers, the heat they’d shared, the desperation.

It’d awoken something in her she hadn’t felt for a long time.

Not just her physical desire but the desire to feel wanted, to no longer be ignored and small.

In those rare seconds, Elias had eradicated her deep need to slide through life unnoticed and alone.

He’d empowered her to make the next call. And she wanted more.

“I have more alcohol.” Redressing his wound was all she could focus on to keep that crazed want in check.

She wasn’t sure she’d ever been kissed like that.

From the beginning, her ex had made her feel owned, and there’d been a kind of safety that came with it.

At first. Instead of choice, he’d taken the brunt of their decisions—her decisions—and convinced her it was for the best. The fewer decisions she had to make, the more energy she had to focus on him, his needs, their relationship.

It’d somehow made sense, but over the years that ownership had turned to domination.

To belittling and criticizing any attempts to take control of her own life.

Questioning her loyalty and commitment to their marriage.

A long con. That was what it’d felt like.

Like she’d signed up for one thing but had wound up with nothing in the end.

Slowly and meticulously destroying everything that made her…

her. Shaping her into someone she didn’t recognize in the mirror, the damage irreparable.

Sayles dabbed a fresh pad of gauze with alcohol and pressed it against Elias’s wound. He sucked in a deep breath through his teeth, and she pulled back. “Sorry. I know it stings, but it’ll lower chances of infection.”

“I trust you.” Elias notched his head back on his shoulders, staring up at the top of the tent.

Her heart shuddered in her chest. Was that physically possible?

Because it certainly felt like he’d just handed her the keys to the kingdom without so much as doing reconnaissance.

Trust. Had her ex ever trusted her? Beyond believing his nightly dinners weren’t poisoned, she wasn’t sure.

He hadn’t trusted her to choose her own outfits or to lead in the bedroom.

He hadn’t trusted her to stay in touch with her friends and family.

Or maybe he just hadn’t trusted himself.

But Elias… This was a man who earned respect and expected others to do the same.

The idea that she’d met his qualifications added to the lightness of knowing they’d survived a killer.

Though she wasn’t sure what she’d done to join that small club.

The skin across his stomach was smooth and warm and urged her to linger.

Muscle flexed and released under her ministrations, and she couldn’t deny there was something wholly superficial in the heat clawing up her neck and into her face.

He was attractive—no argument there—and Sayles almost didn’t recognize that tug in her lower belly.

It’d been so long since she’d let herself notice another man.

And Elias was definitely hard to ignore.

“Almost done. Just need to apply a new dressing. Does it hurt?”

“Not so much anymore.” The gravel in his words eased. Softer.

She stretched one hand across his midsection to hold the new gauze in place and fought with the roll of medical tape. The burn of his attention spread lower, raising goose bumps along her arms and waking her nerves to the point she couldn’t focus on what her hands were doing at all.

“I got it.” Taking the roll from her, he sectioned out four pieces, handing them off one by one. They worked together to press the dressing into place.

“I’ll take another look at it in a few hours to make sure there’s no signs of infection.

Until then, try to keep it dry and don’t jar it.

” Repacking her supplies back into the kit, she swallowed the urge to close those inches between them.

To lose herself in him all over again. That deep-rooted need would have to wait.

The killer had been watching them since they’d stepped onto the trail.

There was no telling if he’d attack again, and she wasn’t going to distract Elias from doing his job.

Sayles rushed through organizing her pack and inventorying what was left.

Seemed the killer had only taken her multi-tool.

Probably in case she decided to stab him with it while he forced her help.

“We have a couple hours of until sunset, but I’m not in the right headspace to keep pushing.

We’d be better served getting some rest until tomorrow morning. ”

Because Elias had been right. This wasn’t over. Surviving a serial killer hadn’t done a damn bit of good. He was still out there.

A calloused hand covered hers. Pinning her in place.

Elias slipped a finger beneath her chin, directing her to meet his gaze.

Understanding and a hint of concern etched his expression where she’d only been met with frustration and disappointment from her ex.

She wasn’t used to this. This consideration.

She didn’t know what to do with it. “I’m not going to let him get to you again. I give you my word.”

“I’m not sure that’s something you can promise.

” Against her best defenses, her chin wobbled as the burn of tears crested, but she wouldn’t break.

Not because of the bastard who’d shoved her off the trail.

She wouldn’t let him haunt her. Ever. “You were right before. He wanted me to lead him to the end of the Narrows at Big Spring to cut west, but I don’t think he’s as experienced as we assumed.

He’d started suffering from acute mountain sickness, getting dizzy the higher we climbed. ”

Elias let his hand drop away from her face, and she instantly regretted the loss of connection. “Did he say anything else?”

“Told me his name is Patrick, but I can’t be sure he wasn’t lying.

” A heaviness she’d refused to acknowledge seeped into her muscles, into her bones.

The adrenaline brought on by sheer survival had left her raw and unstable.

The crash was coming. It was only a matter of how long until she turned into a psychopath.

“And he certainly liked the moniker you’d given him.

Went straight to his head. But I didn’t get the impression he’s doing this for fun. He had a plan.”

“What kind of plan?” He sat back on his heels, every inch of his muscled frame fighting against his sweats and T-shirt. So unlike the suits and ties and slacks she’d been expected to iron up until a few months ago. Her ex never would’ve felt comfortable in a tent this small. Or camping in general.

Sayles hauled her pack to the side of the tent, out of the way, and summoned everything she had left into crawling into her sleeping bag.

The rough material aggravated the cuts across her hands, and she fisted them close to her chest. “He wouldn’t tell me.

Said he had his reasons for killing those people. I tried…”

“You did good, Sayles.” His voice sounded close. “I’m proud of how hard you fought today. Not everyone can say they survived like you did.”

A swell of emotion worked to reinvigorate her mission, but her eyes slipped closed. Dragged into near unconsciousness within seconds. She couldn’t get settled. Like there was something she was forgetting. She rolled onto her side, then onto her back and repeated the cycle all over again.

Movement registered behind her, the rustle of his sleeping bag as he climbed into it too loud despite the rush of the river mere feet from their position.

It wasn’t until Elias secured his arm around her waist and pulled her flush against his front that her nervous system released her from the fight.

“Get some rest. I’ll keep watch. I won’t let him take you from me again. ”

The words carved through layered defensiveness and flipped some kind of switch in her brain that told her it was safe. That he would protect her. He would fight for her.

And she drifted off to sleep.