Sparrow’s Flight by Jenika Snow Page 0,37

going to complain.” She smiled. “You think we’re safe here?”

“I’m sure we will be fine. The cabin is isolated enough that we shouldn’t be bothered, and it’s clear it hasn’t been used in a very long time.” He wasn’t worried about the infected finding them, not when they were easy enough to take care of. It was the members of that rogue group that had him on alert.

He didn’t know if they had all ended up killing each other or not. But the windows had been boarded up, and all the exits were secured. They were ready. They were always ready. She nodded in response and ran her fingers over the scarred tabletop.

“It’s just… there was a guy at the camp who was helping me escape.” Asher knew instantly who she was talking about. “He had given me that gun, told me not to make a move until things got really bad between him and the guys.”

He let her talk, knowing she needed to get this all out. “He had this all planned out and wanted me to be his ‘companion.’” Asher gritted his teeth, because he knew well enough that the blond asshole hadn’t wanted her for conversation alone. Females were a commodity now, something that was bartered with and used beyond anything humane.

“He was the one who told me to go across the lake and he’d meet me, no matter what, on the other side. He said there isn’t any place I can hide where he wouldn’t find me.”

Asher’s heart thundered hard behind his ribs, but he didn’t speak. Honestly, he didn’t know if he’d be able to control the tone of his voice, because right now he was feeling pretty fucking territorial.

“I’m just worried he’ll come looking for me.”

Asher gritted his teeth and shook his head. “No fucking way, Sparrow. Most likely he was killed during that shit he started back there, and if his ass is still alive, neither Mason nor I will let some motherfucker come at you again.” He reached out and took her hand. Her flesh was so soft, so warm.

“I can handle him if he thinks of coming after me.” She reached behind her and pulled out the gun she tucked in the waistband of her jeans. “It was lucky for me, stupid for him, but clearly he wanted to keep his investment alive.” She attempted a smile, but it came out weary.

“Sweetheart, I don’t have any doubts you can handle yourself, but you don’t need to worry, okay?” She set the gun on the table, and he pushed it away from her but made sure to keep it within arm’s reach.

“You and Mason clean up nice.”

He leaned back in his chair again and smiled. “You’re not too hard on the eyes either.” She blushed again, but he hadn’t said it to embarrass her, and in fact his words had meant more than how they came out.

She was beautiful, even when she had dirt on her face and twigs in her hair, but now, all freshly cleaned with a rosiness to her flesh that had nothing to do with her washing up, it made her downright gorgeous.

“Thank you.” She cleared her throat, but he saw her smile softly. “I told Mason he needed to get some rest. I saw how tired he was.” Ash didn’t miss how she changed the subject, but that was okay. He certainly didn’t want her feeling uncomfortable.

He nodded and looked down at the table. The light from the candle was weak, but it was bright enough that he could make out the grains of the wood that the light touched.

“We have to really watch the wound for infection. I cleaned it with the antiseptic and covered it, but that doesn’t mean much. I also gave him some antibiotics. Hopefully, he doesn’t get an infection.”

“He’s tough. He got stabbed with a steel rod through his calf about a month back. It wasn’t that deep, but he limped for a long time. In fact, when the weather is shitty, you can still see him struggle at times, but he’s a tough bastard.” He looked at her. “And I really fucking care about him.” She swallowed, and he watched the way her throat worked from the act.

He started running his fingers along the roughened table, mimicking what she was doing. The table looked like it might have been carved by hand, possibly by the person or persons who once lived here, but it was still scarred and worn from age.

“I