Page 19 of Citadel

“Three years.” He lets out a long breath. “He’ll be thirty-one this year.”

I do the mental calculations automatically. Cole must be thirty-three or thirty-four.

He’s way too old for me.

Something about that thought makes me heavy. I clear my throat and say, “I guess I better try to get some sleep.”

“Yeah. Good plan.”

So I go lie down next to Breanna, and Cole goes back to the tree where he was leaning earlier.

I close my eyes, but it’s a long time before I go to sleep.

* * *

More days pass. All more or less the same now. We walk. Breanna fusses over my injury. Cole mutters commands and does a lot of brooding. And we keep walking.

The gentle hills we reached first are growing steeper and higher. I wouldn’t yet call them mountains, but the hiking is definitely taking more effort.

The only good things are my injury hasn’t gotten infected, and it’s hurting a lot less now than it did at the beginning.

Otherwise, it’s just a lot of long, hard days and uncomfortable nights.

In the middle of one particularly tedious and exhausting afternoon, Breanna announces without warning that she needs a break.

Cole looks impatient but doesn’t object. Just mutters he’ll check things out ahead while we take a rest.

“What’s the matter?” I ask Breanna when he’s out of sight. She doesn’t appear sick, but it’s not normal for her to demand a break like that.

“My fucking period is starting,” she mutters, eyeing the direction where Cole disappeared. “Always the very worst timing.”

We haven’t had period supplies in years, so we do the best we can with rags. I pull some out of my bag and hand them to her and then leave her alone while she takes care of business.

My period is more inconsistent than hers. We get the same amount of food to eat, but I’m naturally a lot scrawnier than Breanna, so I assume that’s probably why.

Not that it matters. I have no interest in having a baby anytime soon, and the only man who has ever evoked even a little sexual interest in me is Cole.

The thought of his big hands all over me gets me hot. Flushed. Jittery. I pace aimlessly, trying to clear my mind of fantasies that will go exactly nowhere.

Cole is a strong, mature, virile, experienced man.

And I’m just me.

He’s not going to want to fuck me no matter what Breanna happens to suspect. So I need to keep my thoughts under control so I don’t end up crushed.

If I don’t expect too much, I’ll never be disappointed.

I learned that lesson a long time ago.

Because I’ve been wrapped up in my thoughts, I haven’t been paying attention to where I’m going. I’ve been wandering along the edge of the river.

As the terrain has become more mountainous, the river bank has grown steeper and rockier. Glancing down right now, I gasp and twitch as a rush of fear slams into me.

I’ve never been particularly fond of heights, but it’s never been a problem for me either. It’s probably because the sharp drop toward the river came on me unexpectedly. I had no mental preparation for facing the height.

Instinctively I start taking a jerky step backward. But like one of those nightmares where the world is no longer stable and even the most trusted of supports slip away, the ground beneath my feet starts to crumble.

It crumbles. Like a too-dry square of cornbread that breaks apart at the slightest touch.

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