“Willow…I can’t?—”
“I know. We’ll talk about it after.” I look back up at the sky, hiding in the clouds. “I’m not putting any pressure on you. I’m just telling you the truth. I wouldn’t be finishing this without you. And in case I forget to tell you later…thank you for believing in me, for letting me be a part of this when you didn’t have to, and for keeping me safe?—”
A short, humorless scoff puffs out of his chest like he wants to disagree, but I carry on, flicking my gaze back to his determined frown. “You did. You know as well as I do I’d be in a whole lot more danger if you hadn’t taken pity on me.”
“I didn’t?—”
“Regardless. I’m grateful.”
The chirping of a bat swooping past draws our eyes up, and Jack deepens that gorgeous scowl.
“We should go. It’s getting late. I don’t want you hiking out of here in the dark.” He stands, brushing our conversation away. “Ready?”
I nod my head with an awkward jerk, my hands clammy with dust and nerves. Eyes that are so used to guarding his emotions glisten before he helps me up.
“Two miles to go, right? Then I get a shower?” I ask hopefully.
He winces, one eye pinched closed. “This is more like the quiet before the storm. A doctor will check you out as soon as we get back, then the questioning will begin. It may be a few hours before either of us gets a shower.”
“What’s a few more hours when I’ve gone so long without one already?” I laugh, grateful I used body wipes and changed my shirt earlier.
We begin our two-mile climb, Jack insisting I go ahead of him to set the pace, and each step brings me hauntingly closer to the unknown. The canyon begins its transformation into its softer alter ego, those harsh rusty reds turning to deeper crimson as the sun releases its grip. I’d normally find it comforting, especially seeing as we won’t be sleeping here tonight, but there’s something about the change from the harsh contrast of midday to its softer setting that feels like a façade, like the muted tones and romantic colors are meant to fool us into a false sense of victory.
“So, Jerrica didn’t seem to know about Brandon…” I chew my lip, glancing over my shoulder at Jack, whose hands are bracketed as if he expects me to fall. “I’m not a drunk baby giraffe. Stop spotting me.” I add. When I look forward again, I nearly trip on a divet in the path, and Jack grips my arms from behind.
“What’s that you were saying?” he rumbles, his voice sending goosebumps down my back with his mouth so close to my temple.
I clear my throat, straightening before my feet resume their careful steps forward, my thighs burning with the incline.
“You’re right, though. I don’t think Jerrica killed Brandon. None of the footprints around him matched hers, either. I need to get to the top to sort out everything we know. But the suits will probably take over as soon as we get out of here.”
“Suits?”
“Detectives. Criminal investigators. Wouldn’t be surprised if the FBI showed up at some point.”
“Does that bother you? Having to hand over everything in an investigation that you’ve been so involved in?”
Jack snorts out a chuckle. “I get a long debriefing, but they get all the paperwork. Way I see it, I got to do the fun part. You know…aside from you being in danger. That…Yeah, I definitely don’t wanna relive that.”
I turn to smile at his response as a wave of exhaustion hits me, and of course, Jack doesn’t miss any of it. “Let’s rest,” he says, guiding me to lean against the inner wall of the trail.
Jack pins me with a stare after sipping his water. “The danger isn’t over, though. You’ll still need to stay close.”
You don’t have to ask me twice.My traitorous heart flutters at his words, but that niggle of doubt that comes from his hesitation to even discuss any kind of relationship after this ends has that excitement fizzling out.
I’m so lost in thoughts of future heartache and the absurdity of those feelings that I almost forget to drink water. I force myself to take a few sips before we begin walking again.
Jack pulls out his phone when it vibrates with a text, a thunderous glare hardening his face as he reads.
“What is it?” My throat thickens with dread.
“Nothing.” His jaw pulses before a smile looks like it fights its way onto his mouth. “Work stuff. Let’s carry on.”
I decide not to push, certain there’s more to it than that, but the exhaustion weighing every cell in my body down keeps me from prying. Jack is extra determined to distract me during the last hour of our climb, asking questions while seeming distracted himself.
This is it. He’s already backing out in his head, deciding giving this thing between us a go isn’t worth it. A knot sits in my throat, making it hard to swallow more than a few meager sips from my hydration straw.
“It just occurred to me that I don’t know how old you are,” I say. Not that it matters. He doesn’t looktooold for my twenty-four years.
