Page 89 of Mountain Target

He hobbled into his apartment. The bed called to him, but he knew he wouldn’t catch a wink of sleep with his knee in this state. He pulled out a bottle of painkillers from the kitchen cupboard, popping two into his mouth and swallowing them dry, then made his way to the bathroom, losing his clothes as he went.

He turned the shower on as hot as he could stand it and stood naked under the spray, careful to keep his weight off his bad leg while he washed himself briskly, then spent some time massaging the tissue above the knee, careful not to touch the knee itself.

He waited patiently until, slowly, and he didn’t know if it was the hot water or the painkillers finally kicking in, the tight knot of pain dissolved, leaving behind a dull—but manageable—ache.

Now if only the painkiller could dissolve the memories. He wasn’t sure he’d get any fucking sleep, not when every time he closed his eyes, he felt like he was back in the river again, dragging Valentina’s still and ghostly form.

She’s alive.

They’re both alive.

And you’re a coward.

He was a coward because, if he was honest with himself, the reason he hadn’t gone up to Valentina’s place had less to do with not wanting to wake her and Ren up, and more to do with the fact that he wasn’t sure what to say.

I’m glad you’re alive.

That was true. He could start there.

You and Ren scared years out of my life.

Please don’t ever do that again.

True as well, even if he was still avoiding the main issue.

He still hadn’t come up with a plan when the doorbell rang.

29

Valentina

Beau opened the door wearing nothing but a towel, wrapped around those tight, muscled hips.

And though she’d never written a sonnet in her life, she could imagine writing one to that V-shaped muscular groove, and to the line of soft, dark hair disappearing into the towel.

You’re ogling him.

Eyes up.

The surprise in his eyes angered her. She hadn’t slept a wink, wondering if he was alright, waiting for him to come home. And she’d expected … somehow, she’d expected he would come see her as soon as he got home, but instead, he was here, fresh out of the shower and looking surprised to see her.

“Valentina. Is everything ok? Is Ren okay?”

It was hard to stay angry when he looked so worried.

“Ren’s fine. She’s sleeping.”

“Are you okay?” he asked, and his eyes were clearly taking in her rumpled form. She’d taken a bath last night when Ren fell asleep, part of her strategy to keep warm, but hadn’t been able to relax enough to get to sleep. Not that she was going to go so far as to admit that.

“I … I was worried about you and your team,” she said cautiously.

“Please come in,” he said, moving his large bulk out of the way. His hand gripped the corner of the towel as if he worried it might fall. “Sit down. Hold on. Let me get something on.”

He was back minutes later, looking delicious in jeans and a gray long-sleeved henley the same color as his eyes, his feet bare.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Valentina? I thought they would keep you and Ren overnight.”

She shook her head. “We’re fine. Ren’s core temperature went back to normal in a matter of hours. Mine took a bit longer.” She paused. Maybe she should start at the beginning. “Thank you. For saving our lives. For getting Ren out first.”