The next morning, Baron noticed that I was much quieter and more subdued than usual. “What’s wrong?” he asked, bent over the campfire as he boiled water.
I shrugged. I didn’t know what to say. Was I supposed to confide that I was no longer considering chopping off his hand at night so I could slip off the handcuff and escape? Should I ask if he loved me? My thoughts were so mixed up and jumbled that I couldn’t piece together any words at all.
Even the comfortable sizzling and scent of breakfast cooking couldn’t cheer me up. I sat on the log we used for a bench and stared, unseeing, at the tent behind Baron as the rising sun slowly lit up the cave. The tent had done a good job at capturing and saving our body heat during the cold nights but I had come to hate those four grey canvas walls. They were as much a prison cell as the one Father and his men were in. I couldn’t keep living this way.
Baron sat beside me a few minutes later and pushed a plate into my lap before tucking avidly into his own meal. He always had a prodigious appetite, no doubt caused by how much energy it took to fuel his massive body. But I merely pushed the food around on my plate, uninterested in anything but the thoughts that were sending my head reeling.
“If you aren’t going to eat that, I will,” Baron volunteered jovially after he had finished his serving. I wordlessly handed him my portion, and he scarfed it down.
“So, what is it?” Baron pressed after he finished eating. “Something’s bothering you. I can tell.”
I stared down at my hands. I could be honest with Baron. “Just wondering if I’ll ever get back home. It’s been months.”
“Is it really that bad here with me?” Baron asked, a little too lightly. The forced ease in his voice didn’t quite disguise the strain beneath it.
I jangled the chain between us as a response. “I can’t be a prisoner my whole life.”
He swallowed and his jaw tightened. “I could try to talk to the sheriff,” began Baron hesitantly. “Maybe he would be willing to?—”
“He wouldn’t.” I didn’t let him finish. “And he’s right to think it. Because the second this chain is off, I’ll be gone and I willnevercome back.”
Baron’s expression fractured and his cheerful façade vanished as he dejectedly muttered, “I know.” He looked down at the empty plate in his hands then suddenly let out a harsh, frustrated breath and hurled it across the cave. It exploded against the rock wall, splintering into jagged pieces. The sound ricocheted through the cavern, sharp enough to make me jump. Baron ran both hands through his hair, gripping it briefly as though he needed to hold something together inside himself. His shoulders rose and fell with a heavy breath.
We sat in silence and watched the fire steadily work its way through the last of the kindling. Each crackle sounded too loud in the cavernous hush. We both understood the truth hanging between us: I would never stay here willingly. Once Father’s trial was done, once the rope tightened around his neck, the sheriff would be finished with me too. My life would end shortly after his.
What I didn’t understand—what Icouldn’tunderstand—was why Baron continually gave his allegiance to the sheriff. He wasn’t like the other leering, foul-mouthed men who would have gladly seen me hang by now. Baron was different. He was better than this place deserved. Nothing about this frozen, smoke-choked pit was worth his loyalty. No job, no matter howlucrative, could make sense of the misery he lived in daily here. Yet he stayed. And the knowledge scraped at something raw inside my chest.
I tried to picture my life once I returned home, whenever that might be. I would slip back into my old responsibilities, my quiet routines, and live with the freedom I had once taken for granted. But as those scenes rose in my mind, they felt strangely hollow. It was as if someone had carved out a space inside me, leaving an emptiness I couldn’t explain. If I went back, there would be a hole in my heart that only Baron could fill.
But I couldn’t stay here either, not surrounded by men who would gladly slit my throat if Baron so much as blinked. My future stretched in two directions and I was caught in the middle, unable to stay, but also incomplete if I returned. I was suspended between the two, torn apart by choices I didn’t have the luxury to make.
A thought burst into my mind, bright and reckless, igniting every nerve in my body. Before I could talk myself out of it, I reached for Baron’s hand.
“Run away with me.”
Baron pulled away, shocked. “What?”
I glanced toward the mouth of our cave to make sure we were alone then moved closer to Baron. It was as though an unseen force had taken hold of me, tugging me forward with a determination stronger than any will I possessed. Baron didn’t move.
“Run away with me,” I repeated, barely trusting my own voice. “You don’t belong here. Neither of us do. We can go to Sherwood Forest together. You would fit in perfectly there and…and I want you with me.” The last few words came out as a whisper.
Baron stared at me, lost for words. He blinked hard, as if making sure he was really awake and not dreaming. “This isa trick. I haven’t forgotten what you did to Sneeds. You just know what to say to make me... You…you know what I’ve been thinking!”
“Baron.” I said his name slowly, pleadingly. “You know me. You know when I’m lying and when I’m not. Come with me. I want to be with you.”
“You shouldn’t want me,” he whispered. “Not after everything I’ve done. Not after what I am. I’ve been holding you hostage.”
“You would make up for it by coming with me. I know you don’t want to see me killed. I know you just as well as you know me. You’re kind and patient and good. You shouldn’t be here. So come with me.”
Something inside him crumbled. I saw the exact moment his restraint faltered. His hand hovered midair, trembling slightly, as though he wanted to reach for me and was barely restraining himself. “I wanted to let you go,” he said hoarsely. “I really did, Laurel. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t bear the thought of you never coming back.” He pulled his hand back and covered his eyes, ashamed. “I’ve hated that I’ve been so selfish.”
I gently placed my fingers over his and pulled his hand down so I could look him in the eye. “Then you’ll get what you want. We can be together and free.” My voice didn’t shake this time. “I wantyou.”
“If you say things like that,” he whispered, “I won’t be able to stop myself.”
“Do I look like I want you to stop?”
His head snapped up, and the look in his dark eyes nearly unmade me. It was raw, unguarded, and desperate, like he’d been drowning for months and had only now surfaced for air. The fire crackled between us, the cave suddenly feeling too warm, too bright, too small to contain all the feelings we had kept locked away.
