“Ian has a lot to say about any topic. Even when he doesn’t know anything about it.”
His words startled a laugh out of me. “I guess some things never change.”
Ben took a step closer. “You have, though.”
“Bound to, I guess.”
“You gonna take that hand off your gun, or still making up your mind?”
Of course, he knew what my hand rested on. We’d practically grown up together, his family having the ranch next to my uncle’s and being just as involved in the prepper community as we were. We’d formed this insular almost-family. Homeschooled together, raced horses, swam in the lake. But all of that had disappeared in a blink.
My hand flexed. “That depends on why you’re here.”
“To see my best friend.”
I studied Ben’s face. I didn’t see any deceit in it, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t there.
He took another step closer. “I’ll never forgive myself for not protecting you. For not stepping in when Ian—”
The look on my face stopped Ben cold, and his words fell away. The echoes of pain had entrenched themselves there. I usually kept them well disguised, but I couldn’t hide them when he brought that up. “Someone should’ve stepped in. I’m not sure it was your job, though.”
The feel of Ian’s steel-toed boot in my stomach, ribs, and shoulder resurfaced. The pain bloomed as if it were yesterday, not sixteen years ago. I released my hold on the gun, my hands fisting so my nails could dig into my palms as if that small bite of pain could distract from memories of so much worse. It couldn’t.
Ben kicked at a rock. “It was my job. I’d been looking out for you practically since you were born.”
It was true enough, but it only hurt more to hear him say it aloud. “I can’t go there. Please, don’t make me.”
“All right. But I need you to know I’ve regretted it every day since.”
I nodded, unable to get any other words out for a moment. “Why did you stay?”
“It’s home.”
It was such a simple answer—the ties that bound us to family, the roots that made up our pasts, they were powerful. Far more than I’d given them credit for when I was just eleven years old. “I get that.”
“Are you okay? I don’t know that you should be staying up here all alone. If I talk to Allen, he’ll let you come back. He won’t do anything—”
“I can take care of myself.” My spine locked tight. It didn’t matter how many precious childhood memories I shared with the Ben I’d known as a boy; he was a man now. And he was tied up with a group of people who wanted nothing more than to put me in the place they thought I belonged and deserved—which was likely under their boot.
“I know that you’re a capable woman. I admire that. But—”
“But nothing. I’m fine here. And I’m more than protected. You can report that back to Allen and Ian.”
“I’m not reporting—” The sound of another vehicle cut off Ben’s words. Another unfamiliar truck appeared, and Ben surveyed the driver. When he saw that it was a woman, he turned back to me. “I should get going. I’ll come by later and—”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
The hurt that flashed across his face cut, but I just dug my fingernails deeper into my palms. I had to draw a line in the sand because as much as I’d missed our friendship, I wouldn’t let Ben try to drag me back to that life. Not now, not ever.
“Okay, then. When you change your mind, you know where I’ll be.”
My throat burned as I watched him walk back to his truck and drive away. As his taillights disappeared, I tried to convince myself that it was for the best. A door slammed, and I looked at the woman who was standing in front of a dusty truck.
I would’ve recognized her anywhere. The image of the missing person’s poster was seared into my mind. Even a decade and a half of time passing and growing up didn’t disguise her.
Shiloh raised her chin and met my gaze. “Who was that?”
I wanted to laugh. She asked the question as if we were lifelong friends, and she had every right to know who came and went from my life. “Someone I used to know.”