Sawyer looked around the store and found exactly what he was after. “Ah, yeah. Actually, you can.” He nodded to the old map framed on the opposite wall, pulled out his newer printed version, and flattened it on the glass counter. “I have questions.”
Chapter
Ten
CIARAN
Sawyer was goingto kill him. Ciaran was sure of it.
Death by tortured suffering. Harrowed, prolonged, and excruciating.
Death by audacity.
That he would dare come into Ciaran’s store with his beanie pulled down so wisps of hair curled out at the edge, his cheeks flushed from the cold and his ice-blue eyes all lit up when he smiled.
And how dare Sawyer smell that good! How dare he have the audacity to waltz into Ciaran’s store, standing so close that his scent filled Ciaran’s mind, permeating his own clothes so he’d be sure to smell him all day.
How fuckingdarehe.
The way he looked at him. The way he smiled.
At least when Ciaran had spoken to him earlier that day, it was in the fresh air, the breeze cutting through his scent when it drifted toward him. And thank fuck he couldn’t smell his blood anymore. Ciaran wouldn’t have survivedthatagain.
But then he had the further audacity to ask about the map and produce his own printed copy of a not-too-recent satelliteimage. “I went out this way,” he said, pointing to the bridge that no longer existed.
Ciaran’s hearts skipped a beat.
He fucking what?
“You went out there? By yourself?”
Just great.
Now he’d had the audacity to go driving out to the edge of town, through the forest where the river cut the town off from the rest of the state.
And he’d dared go by himself.
Of course he fucking did.
He really was determined to kill Ciaran. Death by this insufferable human?—
“Well, yeah,” he said, oblivious to his own fragility. “I’m a one-man station. I’ll be doing everything by myself.”
“I could’ve gone with you,” Ciaran said, the words out before his brain could stop them. “Or someone could have. Fray, probably. Given he was just here doing nothing but annoying me.”
Sawyer laughed, and that, that right fucking there, was what was going to kill Ciaran the most.
The sound, the line of his throat, the way his mouth curled and his eyes danced.
“Well, thanks for the offer,” he said. “Gotta admit, the forest out therewaskinda creepy.” Then he pointed out the two houses along that road. “Do you know what happened to these folks? They’re long gone now.”
“Ah, yeah.” Ciaran shrugged and pointed to the first house. “They moved when the bridge went. They had kids at the school in Strahan, so it made sense. Why was the forest creepy?”
Sawyer looked at him then, as if trying to gauge just how much he should say. “Felt like I was being watched. Thought it might be some kind of forest critter, but it was too quiet.Actually, it was far too quiet. No birds, even. Have you noticed that around here?”
“The birds?”
“Or lack thereof, yeah.”
