Page 34 of Risk It All
The only change in his expression was the slight quirking of an eyebrow. “Can I stop you?”
“Sure.” Honesty prompted her to continue. “But I’ll probably just ask later, since this is really bugging me. You can choose not to answer, though.” A part of her did want to know, but on the other hand, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to hear the truth. After all they’d been through in just the past few hours, she felt as if she was starting to get to know him, and everything she was learning contradicted the facts in his file. “You didn’t really kill those people, did you?”
“Which people?”
She blinked. “It’s a little unnerving that you would need me to clarify which murder I’m referring to.”
His mouth slanted into the most fully formed smile that she’d seen on him.
Forcing herself to ignore how gorgeous that made him, she managed to frown. “It’s even more unsettling when you look all happy about these multiple killings.”
“Not the killings, you’re just…” He slashed down a hand, as if physically cutting off his thought.
Now she was intrigued. “I’m what?”
He stayed silent for so long that she was pretty sure he wasn’t going to answer, but she waited him out, her gaze fixed on the side of his face—well, as much as she could without tripping over something and falling flat on herownface.
“You have an…interesting way of putting things,” he finally said, surprising her with both his willingness to answer and the answer itself. “It’s cute.”
Now she was the one who couldn’t hide her grin. “You think I’m cute?”
Stoic McStoneface actually rolled his eyes. It was just a quick upward flick before he returned to his usual neutral expression, but she caught it. “Of course.” His voice was even gruffer than normal. “It’s not an opinion; it’s a fact. You areobjectivelycute.”
“Mmm.” She reluctantly let it go, but she couldn’t stop smiling. Henry Kavenski, who was objectively a super hottie, thought she was cute. The temptation to take his hand was even greater now, and she only resisted because she realized that he’d never answered her question. Now she was even more reluctant to find out that he was a stone-cold killer—because if he was, her excitement that he found her objectively cute became objectively creepy. “Did you kill Bettina and Lance Mason?”
“No.” From the look on his face, he hadn’t been planning to tell her the truth. He paused as he stepped onto a raised section of rock and then offered her a hand up. “I’m not telling you anything else about it, so don’t ask. The more you know, the bigger the target on your back.”
That actually made her laugh, although the sound didn’t hold much mirth. Grasping his proffered hand, she hauled herself up next to him, mentally cursing her lack of real boots when the bottoms of her battered feet throbbed painfully with the movement. Reluctantly, she released his hand as they continued forward again.
“I don’t know very much right now, but I’d say my back target is pretty darn huge.Ow!” Something sharp had poked the ball of her foot. Grabbing Kavenski’s arm for support, she lifted her foot, turning her knee outward so she could see her sole. She plucked a long pine needle out of her sleeve-boot and then gingerly set her foot down again. “For such a tiny thing, that hurt a lot. My queendom for a pair of hiking boots,” she muttered. When nothing else poked into her skin, she allowed her foot to take her full weight and released her grip on Kavenski.
He was frowning at her feet as they started walking again. “When we get to shelter, we’ll trade. You can have my boots,” he said.
“Thank you, but no. I’ll be fine.” She ignored the complaints of her sore and abraded soles. Every other part of her was cold from the wind that had started whipping around them, but the bottoms of her feet throbbed with heat, and her left big toe still ached from being stubbed on a rock several minutes earlier.
Kavenski gave her a look that she was pretty sure was supposed to make her quake in her sleeve-boots and agree to whatever he was suggesting, but Cara was past the point of being scared of him. He’d put her safety before his too many times for her to believe he’d ever hurt her. Not to mention, she was starting to get hungry again, and she was sore and thirsty and tired enough to be contrary just for the sake of being contrary. Besides, she had a good reason for not following his suggestion.
“Your boots would be enormous on me. Even if I managed to lace them tight enough that they didn’t fall off, I’d trip over every rock and probably get blisters since they’d be loose and rubbing against my ankles and heels. Thank you, but no thank you—andwhere is that damn house already?”
This time, his glance was less chiding and more startled.
“Sorry,” she said, even though she felt more surly than apologetic. “I’m just…done with this day.” It probably wasn’t even midmorning, and already it was the worst day of her life.
“Shouldn’t be too much farther.” Before she could complain that he was being unhelpfully vague, he continued, “Do you want me to carry you?”
“No. That’d be weird.” Realizing that she’d been less than polite when he was being so nice, she added a belated “Thank you, though.”
She tried to peer through the trees, but the heavy clouds had completely covered the sky, not allowing any glimpses of the sun. The dim light created impenetrable shadows between the trees, making it difficult to see more than twenty feet in front of her. The dark spaces reminded her that anything could be hiding in these trees.
Though she wasn’t as worried about wild animals as she was the human kind.
“Do you think they’ll come after us on foot?” she asked, automatically keeping her voice low in case there were any unwelcome listeners. “Or will they wait for us to almost make it to Red Hawk before they burst out of the shadows and shoot us dead?”
“That’s a little pessimistic.”
She lifted her shoulders in a shrug and then winced. Every part of her was sore. “You say pessimistic, I say realistic. We’re running out of lucky chances.”
“Sure you don’t want me to carry you?” he asked, obviously having noticed her slight grimace of pain.
