Page 12 of Sanctuary

And she’ll never, ever know it makes me physically ill.

I thought she might have been worried about me because I was gone so late, but she’s clearly had other things to distract her.

When a few tears stream down my cheeks, I swipe them away impatiently. I’m not a crier. I haven’t really cried in years. Not since those early days when I was seventeen and had to hook up with one of the leaders of a militia group who attacked our shelter, killed my dad, and took us to work on their compound.

I cried back then, and an older woman told me I needed to try to steel myself like a solider preparing for war.

I did what she said, and it helped for a while until I found a better way to deal with it.

I convinced myself it didn’t matter. It was only a man’s penis inside me. I’d pick out the men myself and avoid the ones who get off on violence. I’d act willing so they wouldn’t hurt me. I’d arrange it so that I only had to fuck one man at a time.

Even when the group of thugs snatched me up off the road last year, I pretended to be willing. I instinctively pinpointed the alpha of the group, and I offered myself to him, stoking his possessive instincts so he wouldn’t be tempted to share me with his men.

I’ve used my brains and my intuition and my body to keep as much control over my life as possible. Much of the time, it wasn’t even traumatic. It was just life, and life in this new world will always suck.

But I’ve been freed of all that for almost a year now, and I’ve been mostly able to block out the memories. The visceral reminder of it back at the house hit me harder than expected.

That’s all it is.

It’s not about Del. Or even about Cole, although I hated the sound of his voice just now.

My reaction was all—only—about me.

And I’ll get over it soon and pretend it never happened.

At least no one else knows.

“You sick, love?”

My whole body jerks in shock at the mild question. The familiar English accent. The presence of someone else when I believed I was alone. I jerk my head to look over my shoulder. “No, I’m not sick.” I sniff a few times and wipe my face quickly with my hoodie sleeve so there isn’t evidence to the contrary of my claim.

He appears to have come from the direction of Monument. He takes a few more long steps over to where I’m sitting. He doesn’t say anything, but he eyes me closely, his observant gaze missing nothing.

To my relief, he doesn’t argue or object. He doesn’t say anything at all, and his silence is unnerving.

“If you’re going to kill me, just get it over with,” I tell him. “And if you want a fight, you’re going to have to wait for another day. I’m not in the mood right now.”

“If I was going to kill you, I would have done it earlier.” He comes over and sits down next to me on the big rock. He’s closer than I’d like him to be but not touching me. “And I’m not here to fight.”

“How did you even find me?” Only now am I questioning his presence. If Aidan has a real home, I have no idea where it is. He definitely doesn’t live anywhere nearby, so the only reason he would be around Monument is to find me. But I’m not in town right now. No one knows where I am.

“I asked in town, and they directed me to your house. Stopped by, but your sister and her man were… occupied. So I waited for you.”

Shit. That means he heard them having sex too and was waiting around somewhere unseen when I arrived.

He would have seen me leave and run out of town. My mental state must have been clear to him. He would have followed me. Probably saw me throw up.

He would have witnessed me at my most vulnerable, and he’s the last person in the world I want to see that.

I brush away the mortification. I don’t have time or opportunity right now to process it. “Why are you here, if you’re not looking for another fight?”

He’s not focused on me now. He’s staring out at the sun setting over the mountains in the distance in a blur of pinks andoranges. “This feud between us is serving neither of us. There’s work enough for us both.”

I stare at him open-mouthed. The absolute gall of the man. “I’m the one who said that to you, and you completely ignored me.”

“Because you implied we should compete for business. That’s impractical and counterproductive. I was hoping we could come to an agreement otherwise.”

I have no idea what he’s suggesting. He sounds light, casual, not deeply invested, but that’s his typical manner so I have no way to tell if he’s being serious right now or not. “What kind of agreement?”

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