Another voice came in, softer but rougher.
Tarak.
“He’s right.”
That silence hurt.
Tarak kept speaking. “She asked for him. She settled when he was near. We can hate that later.”
Regan’s voice trembled. “We can hate everything later. Right now we get her out.”
A hand brushed hair off my forehead.
Hers.
Or Edge’s.
Maybe both.
I drifted again.
When I surfaced, people were arguing about horses.
That seemed unfair.
I had already suffered enough.
“No,” Edge said.
JD sounded like he had lost patience with the entire concept of outlaw men. “You cannot ride with her.”
“I can ride.”
“No one is questioning whether you can ride, Lock.”
I blinked at that.
Lock.
JD only called Edge that when he wanted to remind him he had once been a man before he became my terrifying father.
“You’re too big,” River said.
That woke me a little more.
Edge’s silence went lethal.
River, apparently suicidal, continued. “What? You’re over two-thirty. Maybe two-fifty when you’re mad, and you’re always mad. Those horses have enough problems tonight without carrying your guilt complex across three ridges.”
A sound moved through the room.
Almost laughter.
Edge did not laugh.
“I hate all of you,” he said.
“Later,” JD replied. “Hate us later. Stay here now.”
