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“Well, get out of here.” Carl grins like he’s the lucky one. Before I jog away, he snags my arm, yanking me back like a yo-yo. “Wait, one question.”
“What?” I don’t mean to snap, but his timing couldn’t possibly be any worse.
He grins and flinches his eyebrows. “How was it?”
“I’m leaving.” I don’t give him any details, but one look at my face must say it all.
Carl lets out a whoop. I start jogging back to the log where I left Sunny. I hate to admit it, but it was good that Carl made me take a breather. I was carried away in the moment, not that the feelings aren’t real, but we should talk about what it means for us moving forward. Make sure we’re on the same page. The last thing I want is for this to fall apart because we didn’t talk. We have enough working against us with Sunny unable to share her past. Maybe once she knows I’m in with both feet, she’ll be willing to tell me why she had to run.
I slow as I approach the log, but it’s empty. I search the space, heart racing for entirely different reasons. The sand around the log looks disturbed, and not in the normal patterns. Even in low light, it’s not hard to see that a struggle happened. I draw in a breath to yell her name, but a voice in the distance cuts me short.
“Don’t come any closer, Monroe. I mean it.”
Monroe. That’s the guy who was at the house. The one who rattled Sunny like I’ve never seen before. Mom said she looked like a ghost cowered under that window in the cabin.
“Or what?” The deep voice definitely belongs to the man who was at the ranch. “You think you could take me?”
I can’t help but think of her slender shape compared to his muscular bulk. It’s not even close to a fair fight. Their voices sound like they’re coming from the next cove over.
Sunny
The key is to stay calm. Hand to hand combat is waged in the psyche before a punch is ever thrown. Anderson’s words of caution ring through my memory. Let your enemy think you’re beat and then use his anger against him.
“Move.” Monroe gives the command, but I don’t obey. He closes the gap between us, wrapping his grip into my top. “I said move. It’s time to go. Unless you want me to finish my work with your frie—”
I don’t let him finish. I twist, slamming my forearm against the hand holding me, breaking his connection. Before he has a chance to react, I whip my leg into his stomach, doubling him over. His hands lock around my ankle, knocking me to the ground. Monroe grabs me around my waist, but I strike my elbow against his temple, knocking him down. Upon impact with the sand, the gun falls from his grasp. I snatch the gun with my free hand and press it against his temple.
“You go back to her.” My voice shakes with all the rage churning in my chest. “You go back and tell her I’m dead. Tell her you found a body in a ditch. I don’t care. Do whatever it takes to get her to stop searching.”
“Why would I do that?” Monroe practically spits the words at me. Defeat isn’t something he’s used to, and I doubt he’s enjoying the sensation. The muzzle of the gun keeps him in line.
“Because if you don’t, I’ll end you. Obviously, I’m capable.” I shift the gun against his head. “You’ll do what I say if you want to stay alive.”
“You don’t have the guts.” His words say bravery, but his voice holds the tremor of a man who isn’t so sure.
I pull the hammer back, hand as steady as ever. Leaning closer, I stare into his eyes.
“Bang,” I whisper, just to watch him sweat. In the moment he takes to flinch, I release my grip and push to my feet in one fluid motion without dropping the gun.
“On your feet.” I keep my voice steady even if the adrenaline has faded. I put space between us, taking four steps back. I can’t let him see the crack in my bravery. My survival as well as everyone else’s depends on it. “Get up now.”
Monroe glares. “You won’t get away with this. Even if I lie, you know she won’t believe it.”
“Then learn to lie better. I know I’ve had to.” I lock my other hand around the grip, keeping the sights trained on his chest. “You have five seconds, Monroe.”
“We can make a deal.”
“Four.”
“Hear me out.” Monroe gathers his feet beneath him, but he stays in a crouched position.
“Three.”
“I’m just saying we could—” he shifts into his toes to launch forward, but Anderson prepared me for it. Aiming at the ground in front of him, I squeeze the trigger. The silencer covers most of the sound but not all. Shouts of alarm go up from around the campfire. Monroe casts a worried glance in their direction, and I’m quick to pick up on it.
“They’re all cowboys. They’re all armed. Knives, guns, you name it. I throw the gun and this sure looks a lot like self-defense to all of them, doesn’t it?” I cock an eyebrow as the voices start in our direction. “I guess victory would go to the better liar. I don’t like your chances.”
Monroe finds his feet, backing with his hands up for the opposite side of the cove. “You’re dead, you know that?”
