Page 103 of Nothing But Air

Teague’s eyes met hers. Understanding flickered—quick, sharp, dangerous.

“So nothing obviously wrong?”

“Not from a quick inspection.” Eden closed the back panel, her fingers steady despite the lie. “Could be atmospheric conditions, battery degradation, antenna issues. Hard to say without better equipment.”

She moved toward their gear, pulling out their radio and opening it with quick movements. Keeping her back to the fire. Keeping her face hidden.

Their radio was the same.

Both had been tampered with.

But by whom?

“Same.” She closed it up, her voice barely audible.

“Don’t tell anyone what you found.” Teague’s words were low. Urgent. His breath warm against her ear. “Not Sierra. Not Kyle. Not Marcus. No one. We don’t know who we can trust.”

Eden’s hands stilled on the radio.

Trust. He wanted to talk about trust.

“You think?—”

“If it were just theirs, I’d think someone on Liam’s team sabotaged their communications.” Teague’s voice was barely a whisper. “But it’s ours too. So whoever did this planned ahead. Had access to the radios before we left. Could be Marcus. Kyle. The janitor who cleans the equipment room.” His eyes were hard. Calculating. “Until I know more, I don’t want anyone knowing we’re on to them.”

Eden’s mind raced backward. The equipment room at the ranger station. Both teams’ gear staged together the night before departure. Kyle had volunteered to do final radio checks—said he wanted to make sure the frequencies were synced properly. But Marcus had been lurking around all evening too.

Her stomach turned.

“And don’t go where I can’t see you.”

Now he wanted to care?

“Sounds good, boss.” The word came out sharper than she intended. She set the radio down with deliberate care, her movements controlled even as her pulse hammered.

Teague went still. “Eden?—”

“No.” She stood, putting distance between them. Not much—the camp was too small—but enough that she could breathe. Enough that she couldn’t smell his soap, couldn’t feel his warmth, couldn’t remember what it had been like when he’d kissed her on that plateau.

“You made it clear. And you’re right—I overstepped when I told you not to jump. You’re in charge.” Her voice came out flat. Controlled. “Let’s face it. We were rushing things. I have my issues. You have yours. Let’s just get through this.”

“That’s not…” He ran a hand through his hair. “I wish you’d just trust that I know what I’m doing.”

“Funny.” She let the word hang. “I wish I could trust you.”

His head snapped back like she’d slapped him.

“But you just proved I can’t.” She kept her voice quiet. Precise. “You jumped over a two-hundred-foot drop without a second thought. Dismissed everything I said like it didn’t matter.” Her voice cracked. Just slightly. “Like I didn’t matter.”

“You’re right.” His voice was rough. Raw. “I should have talked to you. Should have asked instead of just…telling Xander to take you the long way. I’m sorry.”

Eden stared at the fire. The flames danced and flickered, casting shifting shadows across the stone.

She wanted to accept the apology. Wanted to let the anger drain away because they had bigger problems—sabotaged radios, injured climbers, someone in this camp who wasn’t who they claimed to be.

But she couldn’t do this.

“I know you’re sorry.” She met his eyes. “But put in the same situation again, you’d still jump.”