Buck turned. “I’ll make sure there’re clothes for you, even if they’ll be insanely big.”
“Big sounds perfect.”
Nick snickered, and she resisted throwing the table lamp at his head. “Tick, tock, buddy.”
Buck rolled his eyes, then walked out, closing the door behind him. She took a moment to breathe, to get her pulse under control, her mind switched from running her hands all over Buck to jumping into the shower — alone.
The water felt almost rough against her skin as she stepped beneath the spray, her mind still reeling. She wasn’t sure what rattled her more — that they’d been hunted through the forest, or that she couldn’t fight the pull toward Buck any longer.
That it was only a matter of time before she acknowledged she’d fallen for him.
Steam billowed around her, all the dirt and dried blood washing down the drain. She hadn’t felt this cold, this exhausted, since she’d dragged her ass out of the river the night she’d escaped.
Since she’d left the best part of her back in that cell.
Nobody leaves that beach alive.
The voice echoed around her, jolting her out of her thoughts. She glanced around, but nothing had changed, just the water beating against the tiles, the steam clouding around her.
She reran the words. She hadn’t realized it at the time, but something about it had felt familiar. Either the tone or maybe just the choice of words. How those men had claimed no one would survive the river either.
Memories looped through her head, closing the room in around her — floorboards creaking, keys jingling. The hinges screeching and the stairs groaning. The burn of the infection in her leg. The pull of the staples on her skin. How the stones had chewed up the soles of her feet. The unrelenting current dragging her down.
She tried to breathe, her chest squeezed so tight, her lungs barely moved. Her vision swam, her pulse pounding in her ears, when the door burst open, Buck sweeping inside, his Sig leading the way. She startled, scrambling to shut off the taps, grabbing a towel as she jumped out, searching the corners, wondering what the hell was going on.
Buck stepped in front, clearing the modest room before turning, looking at her as if he’d expected to find her unconscious on the floor. “Are you okay?”
She frowned, glancing over his shoulder at Nick, as the man swept the other room, guarding Buck’s six. “Okay? You’re the one who burst in here with your Sig.”
“I heard you screaming. I thought…”
Her breath hitched, a hint of panic settling in her gut. “What?”
“You screamed. Twice.”
She stepped back, used the counter to help ground her. “I…”
Buck lowered his weapon, shoving it in the back of his pants as he moved in close without actually touching her. “Easy. It’s okay. No harm done.”
She nodded, afraid she might scream again if she opened her mouth.
He relaxed, motioning to the shower. “I’ll let you get back?—”
“No.” She cinched the towel tighter. “I’m done. You can go. I’ll just grab those clothes, give you some privacy.”
Buck hooked her arm as she tried to dart past. “I don’t need space, and I’m sorry I scared you. I’ll only be a couple minutes. I’d appreciate it if you’d wait for me, then we can both go talk to the others.”
She glanced at his hand, then at the door. “Sure.”
He released her, leaving the door slightly ajar as the shower sounded in the background. She grabbed some sweats off the bed, thanking Nick when he closed the door behind him, leaving her with the echoed remnants of her past.
She hadn’t realized she’d screamed. Didn’t remember anything other than the lingering feel of the thin mattress against her skin. The ever-present chill that had bored into her bones. Like now, the warmth from the shower already cooling beneath the weight of the memories. And she couldn’t help but wonder if she’d ever truly be free.
If she never should have dragged herself out of that water.
Chapter Five
Buck leaned against the wall, praying the ache behind his eyes didn’t spread, as he listened to Nick and Bodie walk through the night’s events for the twentieth time. Not that Buck didn’t appreciate their attention to detail, but if he had to describe the orange pants or barcode on the man’s shirt one more time, he might scream.
