by Cynthia Eden
Their steps faded away.
Elizabeth turned her head and found Sawyer staring at her. She swallowed. The knife was still gripped in her hand. “How long do you think we have—”
“Before a team comes after us? Not damn long, so we need to hurry. There’s not a lot of cover in this desert, and they’ll use an air team to do the sweep.”
She was actually surprised that she hadn’t already heard the sound of an approaching helicopter. But…
Sawyer lifted his hands and began sliding them over the scars on his chest. “A ridge, huh? I think that will be hard to find. I can—”
Her left hand flew out—the hand not holding the knife—and her fingers caught his. “I can find it.” She would find it. He stared down at her. So big and dangerous in the dark. Maybe she should be running from him, but she wasn’t. She’d gone to Lazarus with the express plan of freeing Sawyer. She just hadn’t realized what a nightmare she’d find inside the facility.
I should have known, though.
His fingers slid away from hers. His hands dropped to his side. She eased out a slow breath, and then her fingers were sliding lightly over his skin. First over the scar that slid too close to his heart. She could feel the rush of his heartbeat beneath her touch. So fast and strong. Heat pulsed from his skin as her fingers drifted down. More scars slid over his ribs.
“I’m fucking covered in scars,” he growled, voice deeper than before. “Don’t even know where most of them came from.”
Her touch stilled on the scars over his ribs. “You got these when you rescued a missionary off the coast of Africa. He’d been taken by a drug lord there, tortured, held for ransom. He’d been in captivity for forty-five days.” Her fingers slid away from the scars. “You got him out within four hours of landing at the drop site.”
He stiffened.
She touched the jagged line on his stomach. “This was a knife fight. Not one you got from a battle in some distant land. You got this when you were in high school, and a man in an alley tried to rob your dad.”
“What?”
“You always fought back. That’s just who you were.” Her hand moved to the next scar. “And this—”
“Where is my father?” There was pain in his voice.
And it hurt her to tell him, “I’m sorry, Sawyer. He died last year. You were…you were with him when he passed.” A long battle with cancer had taken his father. Sawyer had told her that story, when they’d been together one night, wrapped up tight in each other’s arms.
“My mother?”
“She died when you were a child.”
Elizabeth traced the scar right next to his belly button. Frowned. Traced again—
“Any other family?” Now his voice was flat.
“No. You were an only child.” She could feel a hardness in that scar. Right at the tip. It was thicker there than it had been below. She knew this scar, too. Another reminder from a knife attack. He’d gotten this wound in Russia, during his early SEAL days, and she remembered that the scar had been thicker at the bottom. Because the guy who’d attacked Sawyer had twisted the blade. But the scar was different now. The bottom edge wasn’t the widest point of the scar. The top was bigger, rougher. Was the tracker right there?
“No family.” His muscles had tensed even more. “Then I guess there was no one to miss me when I vanished.”
She looked up at him. “Someone missed you.” I did. Every single day. “I…I think I found the tracker. It’s going to hurt when I slice into you—”
“Do it.”
Using the tip of the blade, she cut into his skin. The blood pulsed out and she clenched her teeth as she had to dig a little deeper, make the entrance cut wider. Then she pressed her fingers against the small opening, she caught the tip of the tracker…
“Get it out,” Sawyer snapped.
She pulled it out. The device was covered in his blood and smaller than the length of her pinky fingernail.
Sawyer took it from her, and he dropped it to the ground. He smashed his foot on it, obliterating the tracker. Freeing him.
“Got mine, One,” Flynn called. “The bitch is out!”
She didn’t look over her shoulder at him. Sawyer was still in front of her, bleeding but not seeming to care about his wound at all. “Now they can’t find you.”
This was it. She was going to watch him walk away. He would be free.
She motioned toward the mountains that waited in the distance. “I hope the world is everything you want it to be.”
He frowned at her. “What the hell does that mean?”
Uh, it meant… “Go. You and Flynn are far faster than Cecelia and me. You can disappear long before any search party arrives.” She dropped the knife and it clattered to the ground. Elizabeth’s shaking fingers—covered with his blood now—fisted. “I swore I’d get you out.” She had to force herself to speak the words. “I wasn’t going to leave you with them. I don’t care about any video Landon showed me, I know you didn’t volunteer. It wasn’t your choice, and I wasn’t going to leave you there.” Locked away. She wanted to say so much more.
Instead, she turned away from him. It would be easier if she didn’t see him leave.
“Why?” The one word was guttural.
She looked straight ahead and saw Cecelia staring at her. Was there pity on the other woman’s face? Elizabeth couldn’t tell, not for sure. That was good, though, she’d never liked pity.
But it wasn’t the time for lies. Elizabeth didn’t look back at Sawyer as she said, “Because I loved Sawyer Cage.” She’d loved him and lost him.
Only now, finally, she might be able to sleep at night. Sleep and not wake up with nightmares over and over again.
Once, she’d had terrible dreams about her family. Her mother and father. Their deaths. Being trapped with them.
Then she’d lost Sawyer, and a new terror had claimed her nights. Twisted dreams of him, being trapped, experimented on, of him being on an exam table and calling for her.
Maybe that dream would stop now. Maybe not.
His hand closed around her shoulder. She felt his touch all the way to her core. “The man you loved died.”
Her eyes closed. “Yes, and his death ripped out my heart.”
He spun her toward him. “I’m right fucking here.”
She could only stare at him. He’d jerked on his shirt and his blood dotted the front. He’d already slung the backpack over one of his shoulders.
“You think I’m not the same? You think because of the poison in my head, you think because of the things they did to me that I can’t ever be that man again?”
“Sawyer—”
“Whatever I am now, whoever I am, know this…you are mine. I knew it from the first moment I saw you. I just have to prove it to you.” He lifted her into his arms. “And I’m not leaving you behind. That shit isn’t happening. You’re staying with me. I’m not abandoning you in the desert. I’m getting you to safety.”
“But you’re faster without—”
“I will not be without you.” Low, rasping. “I will…not.”
She stared into his eyes.
“Two—Flynn,” Sawyer corrected quickly. “Get your shrink. We’re getting the hell out of here.”
Elizabeth’s head turned to see Flynn scoop Cecelia into his arms. “Hold on, Cece,” he told her softly. “Things are about to move fast.”
Chapter Twenty
Elizabeth flashed a quick smile to the check-in clerk at the motel. She gestured toward Cecelia and held up two fingers. Then Elizabeth pushed cash across the desk. The young clerk swept the money away in a flash.
“You sure we can trust them?” Flynn asked as he edged closer to Sawyer. “One of us should have gone inside…”
“And then the clerk would remember our faces. When the search starts, he’d sell us out in a second.” Besides that fact, he and Flynn both looked like shit. The run through the desert had been fucking hell, and sweat covered his body. They’d come across t
his little motel, and it had been like a sign from above. Their group could get shelter, shower, eat. And then plan their next course of action.
They’ll be hunting us. No way would Wyman Wright just let them walk.
“I can’t contact any of the others.” Flynn’s voice was threaded with tension. “I-I tried, man, after the crash. Just to see who was left standing, but the rest of the team is still dark.”
Sawyer’s head turned toward Flynn. “Don’t reach out to them again.”
“They’re our team.”
“You really want to risk Five getting close to Cecelia again?”
Flynn’s face went ugly. “That bastard gets near her, and he’s dead.”
“That’s what I thought.”
“Five wasn’t the only one we left behind. You know there were others—”
“I can think better now. More clearly.” Sawyer tapped his temple. “The poison is bleeding away. Whoever was controlling our emotions—we left him back at Lazarus.”
Flynn glanced toward the motel office.
“I can’t risk losing control again. We can’t risk it.” If Sawyer ever did anything to hurt Elizabeth… “We can’t go back for the others until we know more.”
“You think that ‘more’ is on Landon’s laptop?”
“I sure as hell hope so.” But getting anything from that laptop wasn’t going to be easy. When they’d been rushing through the desert, Elizabeth had said she had a friend who might be able to help them. A hacker.
“You really believe we were best friends?”
The women had exited the office. They were walking slowly and easily, as if they didn’t have a care in the world—a great front—toward Sawyer and Flynn’s place in the shadows.
“I mean, wouldn’t I know if we were tight?” Flynn pressed, “Shit, not like we’re wearing freaking matching charm bracelets for besties—”
“You’re here,” Sawyer cut through the guy’s ramble.
“Uh, yeah, so?”
“I didn’t bring anyone else from the team, did I? Not once I realized how many fucking secrets we all had.” Secrets they’d even kept from each other. “You’re here,” he said again, “because you were different. I knew it from the start.”
Flynn frowned at him.
“I knew I had to save your sorry ass,” Sawyer added. “No matter what. Guess that was left over from our bestie days.”
“Fucking asshole,” Flynn muttered. But then he added, “I knew I had to save you, too.”
Elizabeth flashed Sawyer a quick, nervous smile. “Got two rooms. It’s a really good thing that Cecelia had some cash on her.”
Cecelia wasn’t smiling. She cast a nervous glance over her shoulder. “I didn’t like the way that guy looked at us.”
Elizabeth pushed back her hair. “Considering that we just walked out of the mountains with only the clothes on our backs, it stands to reason he’d give us some weird looks.” She shrugged. “But the man did say he’d had plenty of other lost hikers stumble onto his motel, so I don’t think we raised any suspicions with him.”
“Let’s get cleaned up,” Sawyer said, glancing around the area. There was a small twenty-four-hour gas station down the road. They were going to need a car, and they’d probably be stealing it from that place because the motel’s parking lot was deserted. “Shower, get the blood off, and we’ll grab some food and maybe some fresh t-shirts from that place over there.”
“I’ll get the food and the clothes.” Cecelia said quickly. She motioned to Flynn and Sawyer. “Since you guys are staying off the grid, you don’t need to be running inside. There are probably security cameras in there.”
“I’ll come—” Elizabeth began.
“No.” Flynn shook his head. “I’ll go with her. I won’t go in the store, but I’ll keep watch. Make sure she’s safe.” He cut his gaze to Elizabeth. “Better for you two not to be seen together again. We need to mix up our interactions with the outside world, just in case folks come looking for us.”
Elizabeth frowned at Cecelia. “That plan okay with you?”
Cecelia nodded. “Of course.”
Her “of course” hadn’t sounded very confident.
“Okay.” Elizabeth straightened her shoulders as she held a key out to Sawyer. “You and Flynn are in room six. Cecelia and I will take room seven.”
Sawyer took the key to room seven from her, and he tossed it to Flynn. Flynn caught it easily and fisted his fingers around the card. “Sorry, doc,” Sawyer told her, not really feeling sorry at all. “But you’ll be staying with me.”
“And you’ll be with me, Cecelia,” Flynn added quietly.
Elizabeth’s lips had parted in surprise.
“It’s safer that way,” Sawyer said before she could argue. “And despite anything else you believe, we don’t want you two hurt.”
She glanced down, not meeting his eyes. “I do believe that.”
Good. That was something, anyway. He caught her hand in his and held tight. Flynn and Cecelia hurried toward the gas station. When they were gone, Sawyer and Elizabeth headed for their room. “You can shower first.” He gave her a faint smile when they stopped in front of door number six. “See, I can be a gentleman.”
“I never said you weren’t.”
He should let go of her hand, but he liked holding her. “I’m not just a fighter.” He opened the door with his left hand.
“Sawyer, you’re many things. I know that.”
He wasn’t sure how to take those words. Sawyer entered first and flipped on the light.
The room was small, the carpet was thread-bare, and the furniture looked as if it would break apart any moment. “Guess he didn’t take you to places like this.” Sawyer finally pulled his hand from hers and locked the door. The flimsy lock wouldn’t keep anyone out. He dropped the key on the nightstand and set the backpack down on the floor.
“He?” She wrapped her arms around her body. “Who are you talking about?”
“The Sawyer you used to know.” The one you loved. “Bet he took you to all kinds of fancy places. Expensive restaurants. Not shitholes like this room.” And he wished he could remember. He wanted to know more about the life they’d had. He wanted to know more about the man she’d loved. So I can be him again?
Elizabeth swallowed. “We…we weren’t supposed to fraternize.” A faint smile pulled at her lips, but never reached her eyes. “Wright had rules about his team, and we were afraid if he found out that we’d broken those rules, he’d split us up.” A tear leaked down her cheek. “So there weren’t any fancy restaurants. They were stolen moments. Secret meetings. Promises for more.”
Only those promises hadn’t come true. “What did he promise you?”
“He?” Elizabeth shook her head. “You. You promised. And you promised that you’d come back.” She licked her lips. “I think I will take that shower first. If you, ah, don’t mind.” Then she shook her head. “Screw it. I’m going in even if you do mind.” She practically ran toward the shower, hurrying away from him.
The bathroom door slammed behind her. A moment later, he heard the rush of water.
Sawyer stood inside the motel room, his body tense. There were a million questions he wanted to ask Elizabeth, but every time she revealed more about his past—it just hurt. It hurt him. It hurt her. Her pain was the last thing he wanted.
The thing you want most…it’s her. All of her. To own her. To bind her to you. To never let her go. The thoughts slid through his mind. They were dark and hard and…
This time, the thoughts are mine. Because he did want to bind Elizabeth to him completely. Irrevocably.
“Fucking hell.”
He wasn’t going to give in to the dark spiral. He was going to beat it. He could be more than a weapon. His mind could be more than madness. He’d gotten out of Lazarus. He would get his life back.
And that life included Elizabeth.
His Elizabeth.
Sawyer strode toward the bathroom door. His hand lifte
d, but he stopped. No, shit, no. She needed space. She didn’t need him rushing at her like a starving man. Even though he was starving, even though he was desperate. Even though he craved her more than anything.
Even more than his own freedom.
Elizabeth.
Sawyer forced himself to step back. With his enhanced hearing, he could detect every single movement that she made. He could hear the hitch of her breath. The sigh that slipped from her. He could imagine the water sliding over her beautiful skin.
He wanted to see her completely naked. He wanted to touch every inch of her. Wanted to kiss her everywhere. When that chopper had crashed, he’d known real fear. For the first time since he’d woken at Lazarus, he’d been absolutely terrified. Not for himself. He’d been afraid Elizabeth would be taken from him. And if she’d died…
What would I have done?
The water turned off. The drip, drip, drip, seemed too loud. He took a few more steps away from the bathroom. The rustle of the towel teased his ears. The creak of the floor as she moved toward the door reverberated around him, and then that door was opening. Faint wisps of steam slid out and Elizabeth stood there, framed in the doorway, her wet hair sliding over her shoulders and a thin, white towel wrapped around her body. Her gaze met his. Red tinged her cheeks. “I…tried to hurry. I know you have to be feeling worse than I am. You’re the one who ran all the way here.”
Don’t touch her. But he found himself being pulled toward her.
Elizabeth slipped away from the doorframe, clearing his path to the shower. She waved toward the bathroom. “Go inside. I, ah, saved you some hot water.”
He didn’t fucking care about hot water. In fact, what he needed was cold water. Ice cold. Because the sight of her in that towel was his undoing. No, she was his undoing.
He headed for the bathroom, yanking his shirt off as he went. He was at the door—
Her fingers touched his stomach. “You’ve already healed.”
Only on the outside, baby. Inside, I’m broken beyond repair.