Page 20 of Tactical Lies

Those words pierced his heart, causing wounds that would never heal.

He’d lost the woman he loved and the life he’d wanted over nothing.

The baby had been his and he’d walked away not only from Becca but his own child.

There was no way she could ever forgive him for that.

And he didn't deserve to be forgiven.

August 18th

2:16 A.M.

Things were awkward.

Becca hadn't meant to blurt out that her baby had been Connor’s and that he’d wound up leaving her for nothing.

It wasn't something she’d ever envisioned telling him.

What would be the point?

He’d already left, knowing that they weren't aware of the baby’s paternity and that she’d had sex with him a whole lot more times than she’d had it with the man who raped her. He’d already proven to her that he wasn't someone that she could trust through anything. And she’d already cut him out of her life.

Telling him would only dredge everything back up.

And the baby was already gone so it wasn't like she was keeping him from his child or anything.

If her son had lived, she would have swallowed down her pride, shoved aside her feelings, and done the right thing. She would have offered Connor joint custody and done her absolute best to co-parent the way her baby would have deserved.

But since she lost her son there hadn't seemed any point in saying anything. Felt like it would have just been rubbing in his face that he left her over a child that turned out to be his anyway.

So, she’d kept it to herself and asked her family to do the same.

There was never a time she would have anticipated coming face-to-face with Connor again. They were out of each other’s lives, which was for the best, so the conversation would never happen.

Only now, she’d blurted it out in fear and anger and that revelation rested heavily between them.

They’d barely spoken in what had to be close to twenty-four hours. They’d been left alone in the little tent for the most part, but someone had thrown in a couple of bottles of water and some scraps of food.

Even though Becca had insisted she wasn't hungry, Connor had made her eat something, telling her she needed to keep her strength up so they could take any chance that presented itself to escape.

But she didn't believe that chance was coming.

Despite the early hour, neither she nor Connor were asleep. Becca knew she should be exhausted, but she was way too wired to close her eyes and allow herself the respite of slumber. Throughout the hours, he’d stayed glued to her side, close but not touching, and even though she was still angry with him, she couldn’t deny if he offered her his touch, she’d soak it right up.

A couple of times, his hands had clenched into fists, and she could have sworn he was going to reach for her, but he never did. Every one of those times, her own hands ached to reach out to him, entwine their fingers, allow his presence and his touch to comfort her like it had in the days following her assault.

They could never go back to those days though.

She no longer trusted Connor.

One bad decision on his part, even though intellectually she understood it, had ruined all the years they’d shared, and nothing could ever be the same again.

A shuffling sound outside their tent had them tensing, and this time Connor didn't hesitate to touch her, shifting her so she was partly hidden behind his body. While it was still early morning, the men in camp remained out there drinking. Their rowdy shenanigans echoed through the tent.

Now one of them was there.

What did he want?

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