Page 71 of These Reckless Hearts

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My good leg jumps up and down early the next morning while we make our way to the trailhead. Stone and I are seated in the back of the Range Rover. He grips my hand fiercely as we come around the corner to find the Audi already in the mixed-gravel pull-off. I nearly come undone, my heart threatening to split in every direction. Stone’s assured me a hundred times that Wyatt and Lucas are fine, but I need to see them with my own eyes, and I’m about to burst out of my skin if I don’t get to do it soon.

When the vehicle stops, I hop out with as much grace as I can considering my injuries. Wyatt swings the passenger door open just in time for me to walk into his arms. We both groan. It’s not a pleasureful sound. It’s a mixture of relief and, on my part, nursing my sore ribs. “Jesus, Tits,” Wyatt huffs.

“Sorry,” I mumble into his shoulder, gripping him like he might get washed away without me again.

“No need. It’s worth it.” He turns me around and uses the Audi to prop me up as he pulls away. His blue eyes, though sagged with shadows, are bright. He takes his cowboy hat off and leans forward, kissing me softly with eager lips.

Retreating, he nods toward Lucas, and I limp toward my stray cat-like boy. Oddly enough, we all fit with him right now. Even Stone’s hair is a mess, and I don’t want to know what unholy power has nested in my slept-in curls.

Lucas places a few wild strands around my ear. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

My throat catches. I certainly don’t feel beautiful. I feel like I’ve been run over by a semi. “Are you okay?”

I inspect him for injuries but before I can get too far, he tugs me into a hug. It’s a pleasant sort of pain, one I would gladly receive again and again if it was so I could touch him for the first time again. “I don’t care about me. Are you okay?”

Luckily, the whole night of rest has done wonders for my aching body. I’m far from one hundred percent, but I feel as if I can make it up the mountain, which is all I need. “I’m sore,” I hedge, not wanting to lie but not wanting to tell him the whole truth either. We need to focus on getting through this.

Reaching up, I feather my fingers over the scars on his neck. He probably has more now. Thankfully, scars can heal. We might always be reminded of them, but they don’t stick around. Not like grief.

“Touching,” the leader of the ex-military group muses unaffectionately. “We’re patting you guys down.”

Stone leads me away, and two of the men in bland camouflage move forward to search Wyatt and Lucas. Miraculously, Wyatt doesn’t have anything on him, and I wonder if that’s because he knew they were going to do this. Surely, they weren’t just going to let us walk into the mountains with weapons to protect ourselves.

After Wyatt and Lucas are cleared, the leader checks his watch. “He’s late.”

“Unsurprising,” Stone grinds out. “He hasn’t seen this time of day in years.”

Despite the situation we’re in, I’ve always loved the Arizona skyline early in the morning. When the first rays of daybreak shine over the peaks, it appears as if they’re just waking up too. It’s awe-inspiring.

An engine sounds in the distance, and we all turn toward the bend in the road until a white van drives into view and comes to a stop next to us. “Delivery for Stone Jacobs?”

Stone moves forward, raising his finger in the air. “That would be me.”

“Sign here, please.”

The driver hands a clipboard out the window, and Stone hastily signs the paper before returning it.

“It’s all in the back,” the man grunts, hiking his thumb over his shoulder. The driver isn’t paying attention enough to notice that some of us have guns. Either he’s been paid to keep his eyes down, or he’s just that fucking clueless about what’s going on.

The men Lance hired approach the rear of the van like it might hold an explosive device. When they’ve checked everything over, they move away so we can start grabbing the equipment. Now that we have a lot more bodies to carry things, there’s a lot here.

Lucas brushes his hand down my side, and I turn toward him with a slight frown. “How did you know we were going to be here?”

He flicks his eyes to Stone. “We didn’t. We’ve been hanging out at the trailhead because we thought you’d eventually come here no matter what.”

I eye the team with the guns. “Yeah, with company.”

“Did they hurt you?” he asks.

I shake my head because there’s no reason to go into that right now. It’ll just piss Lucas off. Stone and I changed my bandages again early this morning after he showered. The team was still watching us, but they weren’t acting as if we were prisoners like they were before. In fact, Stone had to wait in line while the rest of them showered, too.

Wyatt and Stone give our new company a brief course on the mountains to which the men respond with derision. The leader pretty much tells them to fuck off since they’ve all been in way worse terrain than this. Wyatt shrugs at me when everyone disperses. At this point, it’s thirty minutes past when Lance was supposed to get here. I just want this over with, and it seems like everyone else does, too. I’m eager to see if my idea about the map actually works, and if it doesn’t, then hopefully Jacobs will discover that finding the treasure isn’t as easy as he thinks it’s going to be.

I sit on a boulder on the side of the road while the leader attempts to call Lance. I take the opportunity to ask my guys where Cole, Ninja, and Pete are. Wyatt takes his hat off, runs his hand through his hair, and puts it back on. “They’re staying back. We all thought it would be better, but don’t worry.”

“And the map?” I hedge, my gut twisting because I already know the answer.

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