into her side, the action telling her this was somehow important. “Myrt’s going to be there with you. We’ll order pizza or something, and you can tell her what all went on here. Eat, swim, do whatever.” He’s going to hunt Sallabrook. She couldn’t find any sorrow inside her at the knowledge. No matter the details of what he’d done to Thad, the fact he’d done anything was too much. If he’d been here right now, she would have gladly taken the gun from Bane’s hand and shot him herself.
“There’s nothing in the house that’s yours?” Both boys shook their heads in the negative, and Myrt looked around the small two-room cabin, paying close attention to everything she could see. “Nothing of mine, either.”
Seven years spent in this house, and no one would ever know. She didn’t have a book or Bible, no papers stowed in a box at the back of a closet, no secreted treasures under a floorboard. Nothing to show for the hard life of pain and anguish. As Luke and Thad walked past her, heading outside, she let her hand slip low on her belly, palm pressing against her flesh there. Only one thing, she thought, and turned to see Bane studying her closely.
“You okay?”
Myrt nodded, not trusting her voice.
“No, really, Myrt. Are you okay? It can’t be easy being back here, even knowing it’s for a limited time.” His palm curled around the side of her neck, fingers tangling with the braid at the back of her head. “It’s okay to be sad. Or mad. It’s okay to be however you feel, because this is a hard reminder of an incredibly shitty time in your life.”
“It really is.” She caught the sob halfway up her throat, choking on it and forcing it back down. “I never realized how bad it was here.”
“Pretty fuckin’ shitty, you ask me.” His forehead thunked gently against hers, his face so close she could see every expression, no matter how fleeting. “But the thing is, you’re a survivor. And now that you’re past that survivin’ phase, you’re gonna be a thriver.”
“Thriver isn’t a word, Bane. You make words up a lot.” His lips pursed invitingly, and she obliged, closing the distance between them to kiss him quickly. “I find it amusing, Mr. Crow.”
“Oh you do, do ya?” His lips curled and she got a flash of that elusive chin cleft before her eyes fluttered closed as he took his turn to kiss her, longer, and with the delicious sliding and twining of tongue that always seemed to curl her toes.
Myrt was shocked to find herself heating up, the flush traveling up her chest to her throat, then inviting itself into her cheeks, blazing hot. His arms wrapped around her, one hand settling low on her hip, the other sliding high to grasp her braid. With a steady pull, he tipped her head back, exposing her neck. Myrt bit back the sounds threatening to rush out of her as his lips worked their way down the column of her throat, teeth nipping and tongue soothing.
Bane stood tall and groaned, the rough noise rattling through her as Myrt pressed her cheek to his chest, getting as close as possible while still upright and clothed. She blinked and opened her eyes, shocked to see they were still surrounded by the wreckage Sallabrook had left in his wake.
Here, in the place where her worst nightmares had lived, Bane had found a way to make her forget about everything.
***
Bane
Exiting the cabin, Bane hustled Myrt towards the barn where the boys’ voices echoed. They were loud but didn’t sound angry, simply excited. Gunny was nowhere in sight, so Bane knew whatever was going on likely involved the man.
Going from bright sunshine into the darkness within the barn, he took a couple of seconds for his eyes to adjust, but once they did, he burst out laughing. “Good Lord, Gunny, what the hell, man?”
Gunny was halfway up a ladder bolted to the side wall of the barn and had Thad on his shoulders. The boy had leaned far back, arms over his head as he worked at something tied to the rafter. One of Gunny’s hands was on the ladder, and he had the other arm wrapped around Thad’s legs, holding the boy in place. Luke stood in the middle of the barn floor, head tilted back as he watched his younger brother, anxiety clear in every line of his face, arms curled around his middle defensively.
“Put