Page 45

Yeah, keep smiling, sweetheart.

Fucking hell.

She’s asleep again within minutes, her body burning up once more.

It’s a painfully slow walk, just as it was when I carried London all those months ago. I seriously dread seeing London’s reaction to me bringing Naomi in like this, or her reaction to Naomi at all.

I haven’t been in a relationship before, but I’m afraid of her reaction to me… period.

I’m hoping London can understand why I’m bringing Naomi back and, perhaps, can see the humanity left in me after what I did to her. That she can realize I’m doing this to prove I’m worthy of her. Because even though London hates Naomi, she’s too pure to leave someone dying like that.

She isn’t me…

A couple of grueling hours go by, and Naomi’s barely conscious during any of it. Sweat drips off my forehead as we finally approach the stream near the cabin.

Naomi’s like a heat locker, which I’d normally like, but the sun is getting stronger, and sweating too much is a risk out here. I place Naomi down and refill my water bottle with the crystal-clear winter runoff. I pour some over my head to cool off. It’s always a risk to drink unfiltered water like this, but in these situations, it’s always better to drink the water and risk the sickness than dying of dehydration.

Like muscle memory, my eyes immediately scan the area. Other than the constant sound of snow dripping off the trees, the forest is still. My nerves fire up when I notice footprints leading toward the woods, and my heart sinks. One set of footprints, not two. Whoever these belong to is alone.

They are fresh and tiny, and they come from the direction of the cabin.

“Fucking hell, London,” I mutter as I follow the trail with my eyes and see that those tiny footprints lead into the forest beyond.

South.

Smart girl.

She sensed what direction to go, even though I was very careful not to tell her. She also figured out how to get out of my bind, which was fucking impossible. Something isn’t right… She wouldn’t have left. Even if she got out, she wouldn’t have fucking left.

This is an ambush.

Naomi is awake now, peering up at me. I don’t give her a chance to move before I grab her and shove my hand over her mouth. I could have my bone weapon on her neck in an instant.

She squirms beneath me. “Micah, what is it?

I press harder. “Shut the fuck up, Naomi.” I need to listen. These tracks are fresh, and whoever it is could be close.

Her heart is beating out of her chest as she lies limp in my arms and I turn in every direction.

Listening. Probably looking paranoid as fuck.

After a few minutes, I determine that no one is here… And if they are, they are doing a really good job staying out of sight. I drop Naomi, and she crumbles to the ground.

“Micah, please,” she whimpers, curling into a ball. “I need your help.”

I crack my neck, unleashing the strain of carrying her all day. I keep my voice composed. “Where’s your boyfriend, Naomi? Is Ezra here?”

She blinks at me from the ground. “He isn’t my boyfriend. At least, I doubt he wants me anymore. And I don’t know where here is, Micah. All I see are trees.”

I squat so I’m at eye level with her and tilt my head. She doesn’t even flinch as she meets my stare, and I try to make out if she’s telling me the truth. Her eyes are still hazed, likely from extreme hunger.

“You’re fucking lying.”

She has to be. There is no way she’d leave her only lifeline willingly. Unless… I guess she managed to find another.

I conceal my deep regret as a new wave of panic settles in. Again, I’ve walked right into this and led them straight here. Or maybe they were already here, waiting, and took London. Either way, the past two days have been full of shitty decisions on my part.

Naomi closes her eyes as her head starts to sway. “I’m not lying. I think I’m going to be—”