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She grabbed the canteen from around her waist, dipped it into the water until it was full, then took a deep drink. The cool liquid tasted much better on her tongue than it had felt on her hands. She refilled the canteen, then closed the lid and put it back against her hip.
The sun in the sky was directly overhead. That meant it must have been near midday. No doubt, her disappearance had been noticed by now, if not by the hulking Resistance leader she loved to hate, then by Julia, the closest thing to a friend Anna had in this world.
She let out a sigh. She needed to move. Now.
When she walked toward the tree she’d left her bag at, though, it was gone. She looked to nearby trees, questioning herself. Maybe she’d put it somewhere else and remembered wrong? But it was gone, nowhere to be seen. She spun around, but all she saw was bare trees and rushing water. There was not a soul in sight.
She turned back to the tree just in time for a calloused hand to close around her throat.
Chapter Two
HAYDEN’S HAND WAS ON her throat, but it didn’t squeeze. He could’ve been killing her, reaping justice for the fact she’d stolen from him. He didn’t.
Instead, he stood there, face completely void of emotion, staring down at her as his fingers applied the slightest of pressure to her throat. A warning, then, rather than a full on assault.
For some reason, that just pissed her off.
How dare he restrain himself, as if she couldn’t defend herself? How dare he continue to act with carefully controlled patience while she tore through everything around her like a wildfire? How dare he treat her with understanding rather than rage? It was like he was trying to get under her skin.
She shoved her hands against his chest, sending tiny needles of pain through her frozen fingers, and the mountain of a man actually took a step back. A controlled step. One that he allowed. His hand wasn’t off her throat because she’d shoved him, it was off her throat because he’d taken it off.
Bastard.
“Where is my backpack?”
He just stared at her, his head tilting ever so slightly to the left, as if he were examining her. “Your backpack?”
“Yes. My backpack. I’m going to need it back.”
Humor played across his features, but he did not smile. He didn’t have to—she could see it in his eyes. She was better at reading people than he gave her credit for, and she knew that underneath the robotic mask he wore, he was amused by this.
Could he see beneath her mask? See the rage boiling underneath? Anna hoped so.
“See, I’m pretty positive that backpack, and the items inside of it, are actually mine.” His voice was completely monotone. Low, gravelly. It would’ve been sexy, if it belonged to someone else.
Her nostrils flared. “Fine. I’ll do just fine without it.”
She spun back toward the river, knowing it headed south while she needed to be heading east, but Hayden didn’t have to know where she was going, right? So south it was until she lost him. She’d put about five steps of distance between them when he grabbed her shoulder and spun her around again.
“I thought the Resistance didn’t make people do things, hm? Isn’t that your whole thing?” She smiled sweetly. “Or is freedom just a fancy talking point you boys like to throw around?”
Hayden’s eye twitched, almost as if he were going to squint at her, but stopped himself. “The Resistance provides freedom and safety to its people, yes.” His eyes shot down to her arm, and she knew exactly what he was looking at. The UNR branding across her uniform, signifying her allegiance and position as an officer. Former position as an officer, but… she still wore the uniform all the same. “You, on the other hand, are an enemy soldier who broke into a Resistance leader’s office and stole from him. How does that bode for you?”
She didn’t say a word, sending him daggers through her eyes instead.
“Let me answer that question for you, love. It does not bode well. Because right now, it appears to me that you are my enemy.”
Her gaze stayed locked on his, the silence hanging heavy between them.
Half of his face was handsome. Strong, with pleasant features and a touch of shadow on his chin, like he had shaved early this morning and it had already begun growing in again. The other half was marred, covered in scars. One large one went from his forehead down his chin and neck, disappearing under his collar. Several smaller ones covered the skin remaining, white and puckered, with ragged edges that told it wasn’t a clean cut. Not a single one was. No hair grew on that side, the skin along his chin too smooth, too light, as if it had been… melted? Burned? She wasn’t exactly sure, the scars too old to tell, as if they’d happened when he was just a boy. His lower eyelid drooped, just enough to be noticeable, but… the eye was still blue.
Bright, shimmering blue that had always called to her, intrigued her, entranced her.
The scars did not take away from his handsome features. If anything, to Anna, they enhanced them. He was a survivor. He’d been through the ringer. She respected that, because she had, too. Though, for Anna, those scars were mostly on the inside.
Her body might have liked Hayden’s a little bit too much, but it was the only part of her that felt that way. Sure, he had thick muscles covering his tall form. Sure, he had bright blue eyes she found herself wanting to swim in. Sure, he had a strong jaw and a deep voice that made her insides clench, but—
Wait. Maybe she could use that.
