Page 24 of Disappearance at Angel's Landing
“Branch?” A sob cut off her sweet voice.
Dropping the flashlight, he pulled her lightweight frame into his chest. “It’s okay. I’ve got you. I’m here. I’m here.”
The tears turned to full-blown sobs as she wrapped her arms around his neck and held on for dear life. Her perfume—muted through the metallic scent of blood and sweat—settled his high-strung nervous system.
He soothed his hand down the back of her head, noting she’d lost her Stetson. “I’ve got you. You’re safe now, and I’m never letting you go.”
Chapter Seventeen
Her body had stopped obeying her commands a couple hours ago. Lila rolled over on the sleeping bag, the material sticking to every inch of her back. The tent Branch had set up once they’d left the canyon wore its age well. The bright orange dye had faded from use in the sun, but the mesh windows, canvas and zippers all did their jobs.
She wasn’t sure how long she’d been asleep. Couldn’t really remember anything past the cave. Of being in Branch’s arms. He must’ve brought her here, but after a cursory search, she realized she’d woken alone.
Her skin felt too tight and sticky. What she wouldn’t give for her crappy, stained shower in her crappy little rented house with her crappy twin bed. Never again would she take it for granted.
A low rumble of a voice drew her attention to the zippered tent flap. She couldn’t make out the words, but the cadence and tenor soothed all the aches and stings after a few seconds. Branch. The tent itself didn’t fit much more than two sleeping bags with some space at the foot for her pack.
Wait. How did…
A headache speared through her brain at the thought of all the events that’d led to the cave: the landslide, barely escaping being pulverized by those boulders, leaving her pack for Branch to find…
He’d come for her. He hadn’t given up.
Dragging herself from the now-soaked sleeping bag, Lila reached for the zipper and maneuvered it around the curve of the door. Blistering pain seeped down her arm from where the killer’s first bullet had grazed her. She’d been lucky. One inch to the left, and she might not have made it out of that cave alive. “Oh, hell. That hurts.”
Footsteps ricocheted through her head a split second before the rest of the tent flap was ripped back, revealing the dark-eyed mountain of a man on the other side. “You should be resting.”
She didn’t have the energy to keep her arm up, even with the fresh bandage secured around the wound. Had Branch patched her up? Well, that was a stupid question. Sarah Lantos’s killer certainly hadn’t done it. Despite the fact the sun had begun its descent behind the surrounding cliffs, bruising the sky to a deep purple, she blinked against the sensory onslaught, squinting one eye as she looked up at him. “How long was I out?”
“A few hours.” His expression refused to give her anything of substance. He’d locked himself up nice and tight. “How do you feel?”
“You remember that skunk that got hit by a car at the visitor’s center, and none of the rangers wanted to go near it because the stink sack had exploded?” Using the tent frame, she pulled herself to her feet. Her head swam. Mistake. She’d made a mistake. “Like that.”
She practically stumbled into the campsite he’d built while she’d been unconscious. Rangers didn’t believe in campfires, so while the killer had arranged a ring of stones to contain the flames and stay warm back at his site, Branch had set up an electric lantern in the center of theirs. He’d emptied his pack, lining his food and supplies out in the open. “You’ve been busy.”
Looking at him—really looking at him—she noted the dried blood at the side of his face, the dark circles beneath his eyes. White crystals clung to the underside of his chin. It happenedwhen the body sweated too much salt. Bruising took shape around his jaw. He was standing, but barely. And had apparently lost a shoe somewhere along the way. “Figured it’ll take a day for us to get back to headquarters. I needed to see what we had left in supplies.”
“And?” She cataloged what he’d gathered. It wasn’t enough between them.
“You should eat something.” His shoulders bunched as though expecting an argument, but her stomach was basically eating itself as they stood here and talked about food.
Accepting a protein bar and a banana, she nearly collapsed at the edge of the campsite. Her fingers ached as she peeled the banana skin away, and while she’d never been a fan of the overly sweet—sometimes mushy—fruit, it was possibly the best thing she’d ever eaten in her life.
The pressure of being watched raised the hairs on the back of her neck, and she looked up to see Branch studying her. As though ensuring she got everything she needed before he dared take care of himself. “Have you slept?” she asked.
“No.” He moved around the campsite, taking up position opposite. As far from her as he could get.
Well, that hurt. Hadn’t they just survived a killer together? Hadn’t they moved past one-word answers and growls? Or did she really smell that bad? Lila made an attempt to casually check her underarms and cringed at the bitter odor clinging to her uniform…and other parts of her body. But he couldn’t be any better.
She shuddered at the physical distance he’d set between them, still feeling his arms around her as he’d carried her out of that cave. He’d saved her. Fought a killer for her. And now… Lila focused on one bite after another. She’d survived the landslide, a kidnapping, a gunshot wound and the crushing hopelessness that came with all of it. At some point exhaustion had won out,and right now, she didn’t have the energy to chase Branch’s affection. “The killer knew Sarah Lantos. Said he was punishing her for making him suffer.”
Branch kept his attention on his metal water bottle, the light from the lantern carving deeper shadows along his handsome face. And, damn it, her ovaries had donned war paint and started metaphorically chucking eggs at the man after everything he must’ve faced to get to her. “What else?”
“What do you mean?” She had to snap herself out of this haze. Being in Branch’s thrall was far more dangerous than having been taken hostage by a killer in a lot of ways. Sure, Sarah Lantos’s killer could do physical damage, but her partner had so many weapons at his disposal to destroy her in every other way.
“What else did he say to you?”
Her throat dried. Emotion lodged where she was pretty sure she’d killed it off years ago, but she just couldn’t tell him the truth. Not without risking him looking at her like every other ranger had over the years. And she couldn’t go back to that. Not with him. Not after everything they’d survived together. “I don’t remember a whole lot, but the little I do, it seems our victim isn’t who we thought she was. This is also coming from the man who stabbed her, so take that with a grain of salt.”
