Authors: Sarah McCarty
“I can grieve,” Fei told him.
“You can do that a hundred miles away just as easily.”
“A hundred miles?”
It was actually more like two hundred miles to Hell’s Eight. “There’s nothing left for you here.”
Fei waved her hand wide. “What is there for me out there?”
Safety. “Maybe a future.”
She shook her head. “I will not do this.”
“I’m not giving you a choice. All or nothing, remember? Now, mount up.”
N
EITHER
WOMAN
SAID
A
WORD
during the rest of the ride. Not that Shadow was much of a talker, but there was silence, and then there was
silence.
This silence rubbed like a burr stuck in a boot. After about six hours of that, his mood was as foul as a bucket of soured milk.
“We’re stopping here for the night.”
Lin exchanged a glance with Fei. These two had secrets. At the moment, Shadow didn’t care. There was nothing they were hiding that would change his plans.
He dismounted. Reaching up, he helped Fei down. She didn’t acknowledge his help. Lin didn’t wait for assistance. Just slid off the horse. Once her feet hit the ground, she leaned against the horse, clinging to the saddle as unobtrusively as possible. She was going to be sore tomorrow.
“What is here?”
“Enough bramble to provide cover, and from the sounds of things, a stream for water.” He pointed to the deer path that cut through the thicket. “And a place to camp for the night. Any objections?”
Both women shook their heads. Taking Night’s reins, he led him through the thicket. About thirty feet in, there was a small clearing. Another twenty feet beyond that was a stream.
“You two get the bedrolls settled out while I get the horses taken care of.”
Lin stared at him blankly.
“Fei, you’ll be sleeping with me.”
“Why can I not share with Lin?”
“Consider it part of that ‘all or nothing’ thing.”
He had the satisfaction of seeing the fire come into Fei’s eyes. She opened her mouth to argue. Lin stepped forward, interceding. “What is a bedroll?”
“It looks like a roll of blankets tied to the back of the mare’s saddle.”
“Her name is Jewel.” The soft whisper reached him across the space.
“You told me that before. When you were running around with dynamite in your hand.”
It wasn’t a good memory.
“Fei,” Lin interjected. “A wise woman does not provoke her husband.”
“This one does.”
“Fei!”
Fei turned, a bit of fire entering her stance. “Why not? He can do nothing. He has promised not to hurt me.”
“Maybe not,” Shadow interrupted, “but right now your life is in my hands and my temper is on the edge, so you shouldn’t be pushing, because if you push hard enough, I might break my word.”
Fei didn’t bat an eyelash. Either she had tremendous faith in his willpower or the day had taken its toll to the point that she didn’t care anymore.
“You won’t break your word.”
Untying his bedroll, he tossed it to Fei. “What makes you so sure?”
She caught it easily.
Lin grabbed the other bedroll, and clutching it in front of her, stood beside her cousin. “Yes,” she asked. “What makes you so sure?”
“Because his word is the one thing that has always been his.”
Lin studied him, obviously looking for what Fei saw. And just as obviously not finding it.
“But that doesn’t mean I have to do as he says.”
Shadow shook his head. The woman didn’t know the meaning of quit. “Until you find a way to end this marriage, you do.”
“We do not know if the marriage is legal.”
“We don’t know that it’s not.”
“We don’t have to act like it is.”
He smiled. “All or nothing, honey.”
“Then I choose n—”
Lin grabbed Fei’s hand. “No more.” Before Fei could form a protest, Lin ordered, “Do not provoke this man more.”
He could get to liking Lin. He tipped his hat. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“There is nothing to thank her for,” Fei snapped.
“Why, because she’s right?” he asked, holding her gaze. “Are you trying to provoke me? Or tempt me?” His pulse picked up the pace at the possibility. “Is that what this anger is about? Because you didn’t have to risk your life, your cousin’s life and my life to make that happen. You could just—”
“How dare you say this to me!”
He folded his arms across his chest. Serene, sweet or pissed off, the woman fired his blood. “Honey, I dare a hell of a lot, or haven’t you figured that out by now?”
“My cousin is standing right here.”
“Yes, she is. And looking appalled, too.”
Fei turned to Lin. “Why are you appalled?”
Lin looked as if she’d rather be anywhere but there.
“He is your husband. Your behavior is unseemly.”
“It would be, if he were my husband.”
Lin looked down and smoothed a fold in the bedroll. “He came after you when he didn’t have to. He fought for us when he didn’t have to. You say he is not your husband? Then you tell me what man other than a husband does this? And what other than a wife would he do this for? Your lack of respect shames me.”
Fei stood as if stricken. Her lids lowered and she adopted that properly submissive stance Shadow hated. “I am not the one who declared him not to be my husband.”
The truth hung between them. Shit.
Had
he been the one to say it first?
Fei licked her lips. “I am sorry.” She bowed deeply. “Lin is right. Respect is lacking from my speech.”
He’d rather have her spitting at him. “I’m not the type who needs a display of false respect to feel good.”
“The respect is not false.”
“Why do I hear a but?”
Her chin came up. “You give too many orders.”
“Why is that a problem? It’s not as if you follow them.”
Her eyes narrowed and a bite entered her soft voice. “Because you do not say please.”
“You’ve been pecking at me because I don’t say please?”
“It is annoying.”
“So is dying.”
Lin grabbed the other bedroll, tugging hard enough that Fei stumbled. “I do not understand either of you.”
Cocking an eyebrow at her, he said, “I wasn’t aware you needed to.”
Lin nodded. “You are right. This I do not need to understand. This is between you two.” She yanked the bedroll free. “Please, talk.” She shooed Fei away with a quick motion of her hand. “Elsewhere.”
Fei looked a little lost. “Perhaps I don’t want to talk.”
Shadow held out his hand, feeling a bit sorry for her. “Would you rather fight?”
“Maybe.”
“Too bad.” Half walking, half dragging, he brought her to the horses. Grabbing her hand, he placed the mare’s reins in it. She left them there, not closing her fingers around the leather strips. She looked as though he was going to bolt. Picking up Night’s reins, he left the option open. For about a second.
“You jump on her and ride away, and I’ll run you down.”
She opened her mouth. He put his hand over it, stilling the protest. Her eyes went wide and her breath caught in her throat. She was afraid of him. Despite all her big talk, she actually feared him. Son of a bitch.
“Not because I want to hurt you,” he explained, his voice sounding harsh even to his own ears, “and not because I can’t stand anyone telling me no, but because the memory of how close you came to dying today is too fresh in my mind.” The look of fear changed to surprise. “It makes me crazy to think of you dying.”
Her lips moved. He had no idea what she said. Wasn’t sure he wanted to know. If it was a fight she wanted, he’d give it to her, but it wasn’t likely to end well. When she challenged him as she did, he wanted nothing more than to lay her down on the ground and fuck her, just to prove that she was no different than the rest. Just to prove to himself that he didn’t need her. Just to prove to himself that he could still walk away.
Tears gathered in her eyes. Her slender fingers wrapped around his wrist and squeezed ever so gently, as if he were some wild beast that needed taming. Or soothing, he realized. A tear spilled over, trailed down her cheek, caught on the edge of his hand and spread out, binding them together. And he knew what was a lie. He could never walk away. Removing his hand from her mouth, he motioned toward the stream.
“Don’t say anything. Just walk.”
She did, silently, head down, a half pace behind him. That pissed him off, too. Reaching back, he grabbed her hand and tugged her up beside him.
“Just because I’m mad at you doesn’t mean I think you’re less than you ever were. You’re not my fucking slave.”
Another flash of those green-brown eyes. The tears were thicker now, gathering in her lashes. He didn’t want to care that she was hurt. He didn’t want to care that she was afraid. Another tear trembled. He set his jaw. It rolled down her cheek. He made himself watch. It dripped off her chin and he swore. If they weren’t only three steps from the creek, he would have taken her in his arms, but it would be cruel to leave the horses just steps from water. So he held on to his control, but as soon as the horses got to the water, he dropped all pretense. His hands closed over her arms and she stiffened as if braced for a blow.
“No, honey. Don’t.”
She stood still, not braced, not welcoming.
He pulled her into his chest. “Ah, hell, Fei. You scared the shit out of me.”
The tension left her muscles. Her hands came up his back.
The next tear dampened his shirt. “I am sorry. I do not know anymore why I do what I do.”
Neither did he. He took chances that made no sense, got careless when he should be vigilant, and drank when he needed to be sober.