Page 43 of Thawed Gladiator: Victor

“I’m an idiot,” I say once we’re on the highway. “I know the perfect place to hide. It’s in Utah.”

“Another friend like Kane. Someone who owes you?”

“They don’t owe me, but they’re honorable, and I don’t think they’ll turn us away.”

“You trust them?”

“More than I trust my father, although that’s not saying a whole lot.” I give a rueful laugh and check the mirrors for the hundredth time. “And right now, we’re out of options.”

After an hour of bat-out-of-hell driving with no pursuers in sight, Damian’s hand settles on my thigh, the touch both possessive and reassuring. Every point of contact sends electricity racing through my body despite the circumstances. Or maybe because of them—danger has a way of heightening everything else.

“You should rest,” he encourages. “I can drive.”

“Not tired.” A lie, but the alternative is letting my guard down. “Need to put more distance between us and—”

His fingers trace patterns on my leg that make it hard to focus on driving. “Your body betrays your exhaustion, Maya. Trust me to take care of you.”

The tenderness in his voice undoes me more than his touch. Here we are, running for our lives, yet he still finds ways to show his care. To prove that whatever started as pretense between us has grown into something real and precious. My father being who he is, I’ve spent my life taking care of myself and everyone in my orbit. Letting someone take care of me will take some getting used to.

“An hour,” I concede. “Then we switch. You need to practice driving anyway.”

He smiles—that rare, genuine expression that transforms his warrior’s features into something that makes my heart stutter. “As you wish.”

We drive through dawn, alternating shifts as Damian grows more confident with the truck’s controls. Each mile puts more distance between us and our hunters, but draws us closer to each other.

During one rest stop, I catch him watching me with an intensity that makes my skin tingle. “What?”

“You gave up everything,” he says quietly. “Your gym, your life, your safety. All to protect a man you barely know.”

“I know you.” The words come out fiercer than intended. “I know your heart, your honor, your—”

His kiss steals the rest of my words. Not like the careful, controlled embraces we’ve shared before, but something hungrier. Deeper. More possessive. His hands tangle in my hair as he backs me against the truck, and for a moment nothing exists but the heat of his mouth on mine and the solid strength of his body pressing me into the metal.

When we break apart, both breathing hard, his eyes hold a promise that makes my knees weak. “Later,” he murmurs. “When we are truly safe.”

The word carries weight beyond its simple meaning. Safe to explore this thing growing between us. Safe to act on the desire that crackles like lightning whenever we touch. Safe to be simply ourselves, without pretense or fear.

Behind us, corporate hunters search in vain while we forge our own path. Beside me, Damian watches with wonder as the sun paints the landscape with color, his profile as noble as any ancient statue.

My heart swells with an emotion I’m not ready to name. But soon. When we’re safe, when the time is right, I’ll find the words to tell him exactly what he means to me.

Chapter Thirty-Four

Damian

Miles of empty highway have given way to the desolate beauty of Utah’s desert landscape. We’ve been driving in shifts, stopping only when necessary, the rhythm of the road becoming a meditation of sorts.

Despite the distance we’ve covered, I can feel the tension in Maya’s shoulders as she sits beside me, a constant reminder that our pursuers likely haven’t given up.

The phone’s screen casts a sickly blue glow across Maya’s face as she glances at it. Her tight, angry expression tells me the news isn’t good before she even speaks.

“Franky,” she whispers, the words barely audible over the truck’s engine. “Since we changed phones, he’s messaging my email. I’m not even going to read it. I don’t have the resources to bail him out right now.”

The pain in her voice cuts deeper than any arena wound. Even after everything he’s done, she still carries such love for the man who continues to bring chaos to her life. It reminds me of how I once defended my own father against Servius’s accusations, unable to believe someone I loved could be caught in such dangerous games.

“My father taught that the hardest wounds to bear are those that confirm what we already know in our hearts,” I say softly. “You’ve long understood your father’s nature.”

She nods, tears gathering but not falling. “I’ve always known who he is. What he is. Doesn’t stop it from hurting every single time.”

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