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“Lara,” he growled, his gaze piercing wildly into mine.
“Okay,” I acquiesced with a nervous nod.
He picked up and handed me my top, a subtle message that the moment had officially ended.
He strode to his side of the bed and pulled out an ... axe?
“Where did that come from?” I whispered.
“I made it this morning,” he grunted.So that was what he’d done during our reflection time: made an axe from a sharpened stone attached to a carved tree branch.
Calder turned back to me, his gaze dropped for a split second, his entire body tensing. Glancing down, I realized I’d wadded my top into a ball in my lap rather than pulling it back on.Crap.
“I’ll be back,” he murmured before opening the flap. “Don’t come looking for me.” And then he was gone.
Wriggling back into my cold, wet top, I went to the entrance and drew down the zipper once more. Standing there, I looked for Calder in every flash of lightning and listened for whatever was going on through the cacophony of the storm.
The longer I listened, the more I heard the strains of an argument threading between the thunder. An argument that had involved a gun.
Calder had told me to stay back to protect me, but if I was here, who was going to protect him?
Chapter 20
Calder
Rule #22: Practice fighting from all positions and in all conditions. Conflict resolution doesn’t wait for ideal circumstances.
The thunderstorm was too raucous for me to need to temper my movement; I could hardly hear my own footsteps from only six feet above them. The shouting, though, that came through loud and clear the closer I got to Trent and Sarah’s tent.
And away from the greatest threat to me.
I tried to shove Lara from my mind. Everything from her confession about what had happened in Phoenix, both in the hospital and the aftermath, all the way up to the moment when we’d kissed.
Again.
Never had I felt such a lack of control than when it came to her—when it came to needing her. If it hadn’t been for the unmistakable sound of a gunshot, there was no denying I would’ve broken some unspoken rule (and all the spoken ones) and fucked her in that chair.
Her.The woman who thought I broke her sister’s heart.
What the hell was I thinking? I wasn’t, that was the problem. But it was a problem for another day.
A light flashed ahead. Two of them. Flashlights, not lightning.
“Fuck you. Don’t fucking touch me.” The shouting grew louder, and definitely belonged to Trent.
“Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”
“Get your fucking hands off me.”
I reached the small clearing of their tent just in time to see Trent shake Matthew’s hold off his arm. Crouching behind a tree, I wiped the rain from my eyes and squinted at the scene in front of me.
Trent, Matthew, and Ben stood in triangle formation outside the tent, the light from inside illuminating all three of them, along with Sarah, who was huddled at the entrance. Her arms were wrapped around her middle and she was shaking. She also had a bright-red welt forming on her cheek. Someone had hit her, and I had a damn good guess as to who.
Matthew was managing the situation, his stance commanding. Ben, on the other hand, stood a little farther back, holding his weapon at his side. No one appeared injured, so the shot we’d heard must’ve been fired into the air as a warning.
“Trent, you need to come with me—” Matthew started.
“Is this really what you want?” Trent ignored him, his vitriol aimed at Sarah.
