“I’m fine, baby.” Corbin said, lifting his good arm to cup Beau’s face.
“He’s not here,” Dax shouted.
“Who?” I asked.
“Carlotti. Some of those sons of bitches who didn’t turn on him must have gotten him out of here.”
Remington and Giorgio, one of X’s team members, studied the vehicles.
“None are missing, but they may have had others parked farther away like we do,” Remy said.
I felt sick. “How the fuck did this happen?”
“We’ll find him.” Eric pulled me against him.
“No, I’ll find him,” Lance said, rising to his feet. “Ambrose, you get Eric somewhere safe and stay there until Carlotti is found.”
Eric tried to protest, but I glared at him. “Don’t fight me this time. It won’t go well.”
26
Eric
“Eric.” Dax called my name, and I turned away from the intensity of Ambrose’s glare.
“Let him keep you safe.” There seemed to be more to what he was saying. He held my gaze like he was willing me to understand. Ambrose was close to his breaking point. Was that what he meant? I looked back at the man I’d fallen for harder than I ever imagined, and I knew that was it. Ambrose had seen too much carnage and been afraid for me for too long.
“All right.” I held my hand out to Ambrose. “Let’s go.”
“You stay behind me and be ready for anything. Carlotti could be close by.”
“I’m not going to let my guard down, even though I know how capable you are.”
We made it to my truck, and once again, Ambrose insisted on driving. This time, I didn’t argue. I wasn’t sure where we were going, and we didn’t have time for Ambrose to give me directions.
I watched the sides of the road carefully as we drove through the wilderness, looking for any sign of a parked vehicle or of Carlotti himself.
Ambrose drove into the bayou, taking us down roads that were barely walking paths. When he pulled up at his cabin, I frowned. “Do you think we’re safer here than at the house?”
Ambrose nodded. “I’m better prepared to defend this place.”
“Do you think Carlotti will gather more people and come here?”
“No, I don’t think anyone can find us here, but I believe in always being prepared, even for the impossible.”
Once we were inside, I sank onto the couch, leaned back, and ran my hands through my hair. “What happens now?”
“You get some sleep and I keep watch. We trust Dax and Lance to find Carlotti and kill him along with the fucking assholes who helped him escape.”
I exhaled and tried not to think about that too closely. “I’m getting way too comfortable with murder.”
“It’s justice.”
I agreed with him, but that unsettled me too. I was going to have to reconcile my feelings if I was going to stay with Ambrose. I hoped that wasn’t going to be as hard as I thought, but whatever it took, we’d work through it, because the one thing worse than losing my sense of right and wrong would be losing Ambrose.
I slept fitfully, and sometime after dawn, I gave up and left the bedroom.
“Your turn,” I said to Ambrose, but he shook his head. “I’m not sleeping until I know Carlotti is dead.:
I didn’t bother arguing with him because I could tell I wasn’t going to win, so I walked over to the small kitchen area. “Are you hungry?” I knew I should be, and it would be best for me to eat at least a little something.
Ambrose shook his head.
“Thirsty?”
“I’d like to drown myself in moonshine, but I should probably drink some damn water.”
I tried to figure out how to work the pump on the sink that connected to a well he’d probably dug himself.
Ambrose placed his hands on my waist and moved me to the side. “Let me do it.”
He handed me a cup of water, then downed his own. I made myself a peanut butter sandwich and returned to the couch. When I finished eating, Ambrose was pacing the small room. He’d yet to sit down since we’d gotten there. I was feeling more tense just watching him.
“You meant what you said about Carlotti not being able to find us here, right?”
“Yes, but I don’t like knowing he’s out there. I need to know it’s over.”
Hours passed and we still hadn’t heard from the other Theriots. Ambrose had eaten some peanut butter straight from the jar but nothing else. I wished I could think of something to soothe him.
“Why don’t we go feed Gerard?” We’d be trading one sense of danger for another, but I thought that might distract him.
He considered my question for a few moments. “We’re much safer here, but I need to do something. Let me see if I have another chicken. We’ll just walk there, feed him, and come right back. As much as I’d like to wander through the bayou, I want you tucked in safely before it starts to get dark.”