“No!” Suddenly, the room felt too small. Enclosed. Suffocating. Panting for air, she staggered for the door.
“Loren, wait—”
“Get away from me!”
She fled onto the porch, feeling the wind whip her hair back and enhance the fact that she had left the sheet behind. Ignoring the cold, she raced down the stairs and took off, choosing a direction at random.
But she would never be fast enough to escape him.
“Loren!” His voice resonated through her skull, rousing a sudden need to go back.No!She slapped her hands over her ears—anything to tune him out. Make him go away.
Her memories, her fear, her horror—all of it was too much. The specters of Fred Connors and Uncle Bart loomed large, but the men themselves were already dead. McGoven wasn’t the source of her rage—not by a long shot—but he was the only target she had left to focus on. And in this moment…
She needed to fear someone. Hate someone. Blamesomeone. For her past and for the horrific things she had yet to face.
She needed him to justgo away!
It was as if everything she’d ever felt boiled within her all at once. Until… She stumbled, tripping over her own feet, and her hand went to her chest. Ithurt.Her initial fear was that something had hit her—a bullet? What else could explain this pain tearing through her? Ripping her apart?
But…he felt it too. His agonized grunt made her whirl around, frozen by the expression on his face. Her first thought was that he’d been mortally wounded. Stabbed.
But there was no blood. No one else was in view, either.
“You broke it,” he said hoarsely in between pants. “On your own. How did you even… Fuck!”
He collapsed to his knees, gripping his skull with both hands as if he felt his brain might burst from it.
Despite everything—the pain and the rage—she couldn’t stop herself from racing to his side. “What’s wrong? What did… What did I break?”
Something vital—though she never even touched him. Horror ripped through her, and she wracked her brain for anything she could have done. Any touch. Any errant word.
Her tantrum alone couldn’t cause this. As he struggled to regain control of his breathing, McGoven hunched over. His eyes were tight with pain before they suddenly widened, meeting her gaze.
“I’m sorry,” he rasped. “I’m so sorry…”
It seemed surreal that he cared so much about her even though he was the one in agony. Sweat beaded over his brow, and she was convinced he’d been injured after all. “Do you need a doctor?”
“No.” He shook his head and stood disjointedly, lacking his usual grace. As he towered over her, she realized that he was just wearing pants while she remained naked, in full view of anyone who happened to be gazing into the Connors’ backyard.
That possibility seemed to matter to him more than his own discomfort. Grimacing, he headed for the woods. “I… I’ll explain later. Right now, we need to get back.”
“To leave?” Loren didn’t move as her initial reason for running came back to her. Her cheeks flamed. It seemed so irrationally childish—freaking out because he had even hinted at leaving her again.
At the moment, the fear had felt monumental. Like a betrayal.
And now? It was harder to grasp that prior rationale. Her thoughts seemed to come all at once, from varying directions. Fear. Shock. Alarm. Pain. Interspersed among them were images and fragments—memories.
Fred Connors. The night he attacked her. Her mother’s death and the horror that followed.
She groaned, clutching her forehead. The mental assault was ruthless, unbearably painful. It took every ounce of control she possessed just to wrestle them aside and refocus on the present. McGoven—and one vital fact he himself had admitted. Looking up, she met his gaze, surprised as hot tears slipped down her cheeks unbidden.
“You’re taking me back to Black Mountain.”
“No… Not quite.” He inclined his head in her direction, but she noticed that he winced as if moving at all hurt. “We’re leavingtogether.All of us. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. Lukka and the others… They’ll come for me soon, and Sonia might be in danger if I don’t act. Leaving now is the only way to stay ahead. Besides, Black Mountain holds the answers to your heritage, and we need to find them. Last night, the others and I loaded up my truck with whatever supplies we might need. All that’s left is to hit the road before the pack comes calling.”
“What if I don’t want to know?” she asked in a whisper. “My past. What if… What if it’s not important anymore?”
He squared his jaw, and she could see a bead of sweat drip down his forehead. “Well, I do. This isn’t just about you anymore—I need to know. I have to.”