Page 22 of Danger In The Backcountry
Lettie closed her eyes, setting her forehead against Rome’s.
“Hey. Talk to me.” His good hand traced the ridges along her spine as he sat up, holding her against his chest. To keep her close. She didn’t have any choice other than to follow along unless she wanted to end up on the floor or the van. “What’s going through that big, beautiful brain of yours?”
“Is this what you want?” The words left as little more than a whisper.
His mouth curved into a half smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I thought I made it pretty obvious when I threw you down on the bed and shoved my tongue down your throat.”
“No. This. Us.” She failed to control the hint of desperation in her voice. “You spent our entire marriage catering to me, to my schedule, to my goals and promotions and family, and you ended up resenting me for it for years. And I appreciate all that you sacrificed. You have no idea how much, but I don’t see how we avoid ending up right back there, signing those papers with our jobs and current living situations.”
He lost the half-cocked smile.
“I’m contracted to work here in Zion for another six months, and your work takes you all over the country.” Her stomach dipped. “How is that any different than living our separate lives while we were married? So you need to tell me now if us getting back together is what you want.”
Rome seemed to sober in an instant, retracting his touch and running his hand through his hair. “Do we have to decide now? Can’t we just take it one day at a time or wait until the investigation is concluded before making a decision?”
Her heart threatened to shatter into another set of a thousand pieces. How she’d managed to glue the surviving shards back together since coming to Zion, she had no idea, but that small kernel of hope that’d kept her going—kept her pushing to get free of a killer—dimmed.
She shifted one leg off his lap, then the other, putting most of her weight into her good foot. He hadn’t saidno, but he hadn’t saidyeseither. And she would have to be okay with the unknown, despite her brain telling her to pick apart every word, every change in his body language, his tone of voice and stillness. Lettie swallowed the thickness clogging her throat as she added a few feet of distance between them, but the van wasn’t that big, and she could still feel the remnants of his touch through her clothing.
She’d let that kernel grow over the past three days. Despite knowing what might happen when this case was over. Biting back the sting of tears—of rejection—she nodded. “Yeah. Sure. I need to finish packing anyway. I’m sure the law enforcement rangers will be here soon.”
Rome didn’t move, watching her, but she wouldn’t give him any ammunition right now. She’d already bared her anxiety. She couldn’t risk anything else or she might not be able to pull herself back together a second time. “All right. I’ll be outside if you need anything.”
“Thanks.” His arm brushed hers as he navigated the tight space, another shot of heat exploding through her, but she forced herself to reach for the belongings strewn across the bed. “I just need about five minutes.”
“Take your time.” Rome dropped off the side of the van without so much as disturbing the red dirt beneath him.
Her pulse slowed with the deep breaths she utilized to get his scent out of her system. She shoved the rest of her clothing into her pack without bothering to fold it, thankful for the quietminutes and distance. They had bigger issues to worry about than whether their relationship would survive another round.
Four men she’d interacted with over the past six months had ended up torn to shreds by a bear claw and left as carrion by a killer. A killer that had been stalking her since she’d stepped foot in the park. A shiver that had nothing to do with her draining desire quaked through her as she grabbed for her toiletries. What had those men done other than take an interest in her when her entire world had gone up in flames? They hadn’t deserved the pain and terror they’d surely suffered. None of them.
They’d each made her laugh from their expressions when she’d tried to explain her job as a researcher. They’d been respectful, some more than others, and never pushed her to do something she wasn’t interested in pursuing. All of them had asked when they could see her again after she’d explained the divorce hadn’t been finalized, and she’d genuinely been looking forward to a second date with each of them.
Only to never hear back.
Now she knew why.
Knew that a man who felt entitled to her attention, her time and her body had killed them. Gruesomely.
Who was next? That thought froze her in place. Had the killer seen those four men as a threat because she’d agreed to go out with them or because they’d received her attention? What did he consider a cutoff point? Was every man in her life at risk? Or only those with a romantic interest? What about professional? The people she spent the most time with?
Realization struck. “Oh, no.”
Lettie grabbed her pack and emptied the side pockets. Her phone bounced off the mattress. Water damage marbled beneath the screen from her tumble into the river, but twelve hours should’ve been enough time for it to dry out. Right?Testing the power button, she held her breath. Icons filled the screen, and her chest deflated. Except there were no notifications. No missed calls or messages. Dread pooled in her gut. She lunged for the door, her ankle threatening to buckle straight out from under her. She gritted through the pain as she used the counter for support to get to the door. “Rome.”
He was there in an instant, every muscle in his body tight with battle-ready tension. Scanning the inside of the van, he seemed to search for some invisible threat then refocused on her. “What is it?”
“Shawn.” How hadn’t she thought of him earlier when police had made the connection between her and the four victims?
Confusion etched distinct lines between his eyebrows. “Who?”
“My intern. Shawn.” She turned her phone screen on him. “He hasn’t contacted me in two days.”
Understanding smoothed the rough lines from around Rome’s eyes. “You think the killer may have targeted him.”
“Shawn and I… We aren’t involved. It’s only ever been professional between us, but what if the man who abducted me doesn’t see it that way? What if he went after Shawn as some part of his sick game to get to me?”
Rome was already rounding the front of the van. “Let’s go. I’m driving.”
