Deep Woods

I figured I’d just stay quiet: that would be best. But Bethany’s voice was comforting, soaking into my mind like soothing oil. Slowly, grudgingly, I felt those jammed-up mechanisms start to ease and turn, just as they had when I met her in Seattle. And I was worried about her. “You want to tell me what happened?” I asked at last.

She lowered her head and the air filled with that heavy, aching silence you get when what’s inside is too painful to let out. For a while, I wasn’t sure she was going to be able to tell me. But one advantage of being not much of a talker: I’m a hell of a listener. We tramped through the undergrowth for a good mile in silence, the only sound being the snap of twigs and the rustle of leaves, and eventually, it started to come out. She told me about working at the call center and her boss, watching them all on cameras, and this Russian guy Ralavich and the secret club at the mansion.

The rage rose inside me, white-hot and vicious. I wanted to hunt this guy down, make him as scared and helpless as he’d made her.

She told me how she’d escaped. And as I listened, I started to realize just how out of her element she was in the woods. She kept glancing around us at the dark trees, as if afraid of what might come out of them. Every step she took was uncertain. She was as out of place here as—

As I’d been, in Seattle. My chest contracted in sympathy. Aw, hell…

“We need to help the others,” she said.

I was thrown. “Others?”

“Ralavich bought nine other women. And there were other men there, they must have bought women already, or theirs are on their way. We have to get them out!”

I just stared at her. She was exhausted and terrified, she’d been through hell and she was still worried about helping others. This woman had a core of steel. She didn’t seem to realize how brave she was. I nodded dumbly.

Telling me about it must have brought it all back because her shoulders tensed and her breathing went tight. She marched quicker through the undergrowth, as if trying to put distance between her and the memories. “I’m sorry I involved you,” she said. “They’re going to come after us. They’re going to come after us and find us—”

She was starting to panic and I had no idea what to do. I wasn’t used to being around people, let alone a scared woman. “Hey…” I muttered awkwardly.

“They’re going to find us, they’ll find you and they’ll kill you and they’ll take me back—”

“Hey,” I said, more urgently.

“Back to that place and to—to Ralavich and then—”—she gulped—” to Russia and—”

“Hey!” I grabbed her hand and hauled her to a stop. God, her hand felt so small in mine, her fingers slender and cool. “Now you listen. You listening?”

She blinked and I saw the wetness in her eyes. That need swelled up in me and my chest went tight. For a second, I couldn’t speak. But when I did, the words came from somewhere deep inside, each one heavy and loaded with power. “He will not get you,” I told her. “Do you know why?”

She shook her head.

The words spilled out before I could stop them. “Because I’m going to protect you.”

She bit her lip and nodded. And I just—

I knew what I was. I knew I was as far from a hero as it was possible to get. But the way she looked at me...she believed me. She believed in me. It made me want to be that guy.

I gazed down into her eyes and the protective urge rose higher. All I wanted to do was sweep her up in my arms and crush her against my chest. I still had hold of her hand...and I couldn’t let go.

12

Bethany

I WAS STANDING so close to him that I had my head tilted way back to look up at him. Those cornflower-blue eyes blazed down at me and the determination I saw there...it made me feel safer than I ever had in my life.

He was still holding my hand and I could feel the warmth of him throbbing into me in big, urgent pulses. He squeezed gently and I never wanted him to let go. That silver guitar string inside me was drawn tight.

And just for a second, he was open. Vulnerable. And I glimpsed something, buried beneath all the strength. Searing pain and heavy, brooding anger, trapped inside, like catching sight of a river of magma as a gap opened up between huge, heavy rocks. I squeezed his hand. What is it? What’s wrong?

Then it was gone and there was only impenetrable rock again. He dropped my hand and looked up at the sky. “Cloud’s nearly on us,” he muttered. “We should get moving.”