“You won’t,” he corrected.
“Okay. Won’t.” She shifted to face him. “I survive. And the only reason I have is because I’ve never told anyone who I was. That woman? I left her behind when I ran and haven’t been her in five years. Honestly, I don’t know if I want to be her again.”
“Who do you want to be?”
She sighed and reached into the bag for a handful of pistachios. “That’s the question, isn’t it?”
Chapter Ten
Morning poured over their little campsite in dappled golden light, accompanied by birdsong. It was one of those perfect camping mornings, crisp and cool, with wisps of fog floating along the river below them.
Vaughn had woken up sporadically throughout the night to rebuild the fire, but now it was down to smoldering coals, and the morning dampness had settled into his bones. Moving was going to be a bitch.
Sometime in the last few hours, Sage had snuggled up against his body. Probably just to keep warm, but he still let himself savor the contact as he lay there staring up at the gently swaying leaves of the forest’s canopy, trying to convince his aching muscles it was time to move.
Last night had been…intimate. More so than sex ever was. He’d told her more about himself than he’d ever told anyone, his brothers and brothers-in-arms included, and he wasn’t sure why. If he tried, he could convince himself it was a tactic to get her to open up about her past, but that hadn’t been the reason. They’d always had an easy rapport, so maybe he could chalk it up to that, but the whys of it didn’t really matter. She now knew more about him than anyone—and he still didn’t know her name.
He gazed down at the top of her head and pushed a strand of blonde hair away from her face. Who was she? And why the fuck did she captivate him like no other woman he’d ever met?
Uncomfortable with his line of thought, Vaughn shifted out from underneath her and shoved himself upright. Every muscle in his body groaned at the movement, and he’d definitely bruised some ribs—if not cracked one. He had a freakishly high pain tolerance, so just the fact that he was hurting as much as he was now told him he was not in good shape. And he needed to empty his bladder.
He gazed down at Sage, watched her for several moments to make sure she was still deep asleep. She was, her breathing slow and even. Good. He hauled himself to his feet and walked a short distance away to do what he needed to do.
But as soon as he had his fly down, he heard a scrambling in the leaves behind him. No fucking way had she been faking sleep. He swung around in time to see her clawing her way up the short embankment toward the road. After everything, still trying to escape him.
Where the hell did she think she was going? They were in the middle of nowhere.
Cursing, he tucked himself back into his pants, grabbed his bag from the ground, and chased after her. Halfway to the road, he recognized the rumble of an engine and picked up his pace.
Fuck. She was hitching a ride.
He burst onto the road, already opening his mouth to yell at her to stop, and she turned away from the small RV idling on the shoulder.
Smiling, she waved him over. “Hey. There you are. They said they’ll give us a ride into town.”
Us.
She wasn’t running.
Everything in him uncoiled in relief, but he tried to keep the emotion off his face. He must have failed, though, because she frowned as he approached.
She touched his arm, a feather-light caress meant to be soothing. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” The word came out more tersely than he’d intended, and he inwardly winced, even as he added, “I told you to stop asking me that.”
Her frown dropped into a scowl and she folded her arms across her chest. “Still not a morning person, I see.”
Ignoring that remark, he turned his focus on the couple in the RV. They were older, probably a pair of traveling-the-country-by-RV retirees, and they looked harmless enough. Still, the idea of accepting a ride from anyone made him twitchy.
“We’ll walk. Thanks.”
The white-haired man in the driver’s seat shrugged. “Suit yourselves.”
“We’re not walking,” Sage said.
At the same time, the man’s wife said, “For goodness sakes, Arnold. They are not walking. Look at them! They must belong to that car accident we saw back down the road.” She leaned forward enough in her seat to study them out the driver’s side window. She was a small woman with salt-and-pepper hair, and her skin was as dark as her husband’s was pale. “Listen to your wife, young man.”
“We’re not—” Vaughn started, but Sage elbowed him in the side, which sent pain singing through his ribs.
Right. Okay, she must have told the couple they were man and wife. It did make for an easier explanation than whatever the hell they really were. Captor and captive? Guard and prisoner?
…Lovers?