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But they feel like a blow to me anyway. I actually take a step backward. “What? What are you talking about? Of course I’m going to go.”
“There’s no reason for you to. It’s just a scouting trip. We’ll be coming back here to figure out our next steps.”
“But those are my people in the bunker. Not Jackson’s. I have more reason to go than he does. I’m not going to be left out of this.”
“You’re not being left out, Olivia.” He only says my name like that when he’s getting annoyed with me but trying to keep his cool. “We’re going to drive an hour. Get out and look around. And come back. There’s nothing you need to do on this trip.”
“So you’ll be back in three hours?”
“Maybe.” His face tightens just slightly. “We might need to stay longer if we can’t get a good sense of things right away. But the most it will be is overnight.”
“Overnight!” I gasp, so upset now I’m almost shaking from it. “I’m definitely going with you. What the fuck did you train me for if you’re never going to let me use it?”
“I trained you to protect yourself when you need to,” he grits out. “That’s not right now. If you go, I’ll have to worry about you.”
“I don’t need you to worry about me. I’m perfectly capable of doing what needs to be done. Why the hell won’t you ever let me?”
His jaw tightens. For a moment, I think he might actually lose his temper, but he doesn’t. Instead, he asks coolly, “And what exactly could you contribute to this trip? I don’t need you getting in the way.”
I stare at him blindly for a few seconds, my body throbbing as if from physical pain. That’s how much the words hurt. My throat closes up, and my eyes burn.
It would be nice if there was something I could say in response to the way he just wounded me, but I can’t shape a single word. Not without bursting into tears.
And I’m not about to let him see that.
So I don’t respond at all. I turn around and walk away from him.
* * *
He and Jackson don’t get back that night. I wait all evening after the chores are done and while we’re eating dinner and afterward at the evening gathering. I sit through it all and keep listening for the sounds of them returning.
They don’t. So I have to go to bed alone.
It’s a terrible night. I toss and turn and mentally imagine everything I should have said to him during our argument and then visualize all the awful things that could be happening to him. Right now. At this very moment.
He might die. I might lose him forever. I don’t know how to even wrap my mind around that thought.
I’m sick and exhausted and trying not to fall apart the following morning. I work in the garden for several hours, and then I wander around, looking for something else to do. I’ve got to keep working, or I’ll have an emotional breakdown.
Faith is in the kitchen washing dishes, so I go to help her.
She slants me a quick look and evidently sees my mental state on my face. “They’ll be fine. They’ll be back anytime now.”
“I hope so.”
“They know what they’re doing, and they’re not going to do anything stupid. Jackson knows what he’ll have coming to him if he does.”
The ice-cold warning in her voice makes me huff. “I don’t have that sort of faith in Grant. He’s likely to do something stupid. He won’t care if it means I’m left all alone.” My voice quavers just slightly on the last word.
Faith pauses in rinsing the plate she holds. Her expression softens slightly. “He’ll care. He’s not going to leave you alone.”
“I hope not.” I stare down at the dishrag I’m using to dry the dishes she passes me.
“They’ll be back soon.”
We’re silent for a minute as we work. Then Faith says in a conversational tone, “I don’t really know how you manage to deal with Grant. I used to think Jackson was hard, but he’s a big teddy bear compared to Grant. Doesn’t the man ever unclench?”
This time, when I give a breathy huff, it’s with real, if tempered, amusement. “Not really. He’s always wound so tight. Almost impenetrable. I don’t know how to…” I trail off, realizing what I’m saying and wondering if I even have the right to give voice to it.
