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“Well, ain’t that a kick in the nuts.”

“I might’ve ultimately tried that in the end.” I chuckle, elbowing him in the arm.

Snorting a laugh, he stares off and shakes his head. “Probably would’ve deserved it, for all the dirty shit I thought about doing to you back then.” His smile fades into something more serious. “I’d never touch you that way now.” Brows pinched in anguish, he looks away, his throat bobbing with a swallow, as that darkness clouds his expression all over again. “Never.”

“I know you wouldn’t.” Palm to his cheek, I guide his eyes back to mine. “You have a good heart. Deep, deep down.” I purse my lips to hold back a smile. “Like … bottom of the sea deep.”

“Yeah.” His lips stretch to a grin again, his eyes lighter than before. “Covered in black murky fish shit.”

Both of us laugh, and I rest my ear against his heart. “Well, at least we know where to find it.”

At the sound of scuffling outside, I lift my head, and Cadmus shifts beneath me. A glance back at him shows his finger pressed against his lips, as he sits up beside me. Two figures stand at the mouth of the truck--a man I’ve never seen before, dressed in rags that hang off his body, holding a gun to Brandon’s temple.

On instinct, I kick myself back against the cage for the silver box behind me.

“’The hell is this? More of ya. And a woman, too.” The man’s grin widens to a toothless smile, and as Cadmus lurches forward, he points the gun at him, then back to Brandon. “You just stay where you are.”

“Who are you?” The bored tone in Cadmus’s voice tells me he’s neither threatened by this man, nor concerned for Brandon.

Besides, when an enormous figure strides toward the two males, it’s clear the stranger has more to worry about right now than any of us. A blade slides beneath his throat from behind, wielded by Titus, and the man releases Brandon, holding his hands up in surrender.

Once free, Brandon glares back at his captor. “Was gathering up some supplies, when this asshole put a gun to my head.”

“Where? Are there others?” My sudden intrigue gives life to a lead I thought was dead.

It makes sense, though, why we wouldn’t find the rebels in plain sight. Of course they’d be hiding. It’s what they were known to do. How they managed to evade Legion.

“One of the buildings,” Brandon answers, climbing into the back of the truck with me.

Two more men creep toward Titus, but his gaze sliding to the side tells me he’s sensed them. Both men hold guns outstretched and pointed at him. One wears a black leather vest and sports a gray beard, the other wears a stained white T-shirt, with his hair pulled back in a ponytail.

If my companions were anyone else, I’d likely be trembling at the sight, but they’re not. And it’s only a matter of time before these strangers find that out.

“Drop the blade, friend,” the one in the leather vest says, but Titus doesn’t comply.

Huffing, Cadmus stands up, his naked body completely on display while he searches the truck, presumably for his clothes.

“’The fuck do you think you’re doing?” Leather Vest points a gun toward Cadmus, who casually bends forward to swipe up his pants from the floor, unruffled by the weapon.

“I’d rather not have my dick hanging out when I kill you,” he says, his voice still affected by the peyote in the minor slur of his words as he slips his leg into his pants. Not much, though—most of the drug will have already left his system, as it typically doesn’t last long for him, which I suspect has to do with his size.

One of them lurches toward the truck, coming up behind Titus. “I suggest you release my friend, so the pretty lady doesn’t have to watch your brains splatter all over the back of this truck.”

“We’re looking for the Skulls. Where can we find them?” Titus asks, keeping his blade on the first stranger’s throat, his gaze locked straight ahead.

“I’m not at liberty to say,” Leather Vest answers and racks the chamber of his gun. “Now, I told you to release my friend.”

Cadmus steps toward them, and the third man, in the ponytail, raises his gun, halting the Alpha in his tracks.

“We don’t want to hurt anyone. Answer the question, and we’ll be on our way.” There’s a cold, dark nature to Titus that bleeds through in his voice, and I feel compelled to warn these men what they’re dealing with, but I don’t.

Leather Vest chuckles and shakes his head. “Shithead, you got two guns on you right now. Only one getting hurt is you and your friend. I don’t answer to Legion.”

I’d say it’s a sure bet they’re members of the rebels, and damn that small flicker of hope that beats inside my chest again.

“We’re not Legion,” Titus answers, as still as a statue while he holds the first stranger captive.

“Soldier. Truck.” Leather Vest leans to the side and waves his gun. “Whatever shit’s in those silver boxes.”