Page 16 of Unbound

Instead of running my tongue over the closest bit of exposed skin, I ask, “What are you doing?”

He pulls the belt out, buckling me in. Once I’m secure, he gives the strap across my chest a little snap. “Safety first.”

I snort. “Right.”

I’m pretty sure my safety went out the window a long time ago.

5

Walker

We’re only about halfway to Trevor’s before I notice Sybil is shivering next to me. I don’t have the weather guard on my side-by-side, so the crisp morning air is whipping through the cab. I find it refreshing. Sybil doesn’t seem to share my opinion.

She’s clutching her mug of coffee close, huddling lower and lower in the seat as goosebumps raise across her arms. She doesn’t complain though.

And I don’t fucking like that. If she’s uncomfortable, I want her to tell me so I can do something about it. I’m not a monster. I’m not keeping her here because I want her to suffer. I’m keeping her here because…

Well, those reasons are a little different this morning than they were last night.

I take my foot off the gas, bringing us to a stop. Twisting at the waist, I reach between the seats into the back to grab one of the items I always keep on hand. The weather can change on a dime around here, and I’ve spent one too many nights freezing my balls off driving home from my aunt and uncle’s house.

“Here.” I drop the fleece-lined flannel onto Sybil’s lap and begin driving again. “Put that on.”

Sybil looks me over, like she’s not sure what to make of me, as she wedges the coffee between her thighs and wiggles into the shirt. “Thank you.”

I dip my head in an acknowledging nod even though I’m pretty sure she shouldn’t be thanking me for much right now. I’m about to walk her into the lion’s den. And while I’m starting to suspect Sybil might actually be able to hold her own under most circumstances, ten against one isn’t really a fair fight.

Dread builds in my gut as we finish the drive to Trevor’s house. Maren’s pissed as hell, and if she genuinely still believes the shooting was Sybil’s fault, there’s likely to be an altercation. If my dumbass cousin hadn’t run out in the middle of everything and taken a bullet to the calf, Maren might’ve been a little calmer about all of this. And since she likely doesn’t want to punch Trevor until he’s healed, she might take a swing at Sybil.

“Don’t turn your back on Maren.” I offer the warning as we pull to a stop in the side yard. “She can be kind of a loose cannon.”

Which is exactly what Trevor needs. Someone who doesn’t mind challenging him. Keeping him on his toes. Pushing back when he gets a little too headstrong.

But that’s not going to help our cause right now.

Sybil snorts. “Yeah, I figured that.” She takes a deep breath, looking up at the house in front of us. “I guess it’s time to go confess my sins.”

“Stay put. I’ll come help you out.” I round the front of my UTV before leaning in to release the buckle. “You ever been in something like this?”

Sybil doesn’t move away as I crowd her space. “Not unless you count last night.”

Once her belt is free, I ease back, offering one hand to help her out. “I take it you’re a city girl?”

“As city girl as it gets in Gillette.” She gives me a smile as she slides one hand into mine, holding tight as I heft her up. “I’ve never ridden a horse, but I have been camping.”

I should let the conversation end here. But it’s probably a good idea to try to get to know her better. Even if she lies to me, surely I’ll get some clues about why she’s really here and what she’s really up to. “Tent or RV?”

“Both.” Her eyes come my way as I drop her hand. “But obviously I prefer RV.” She stays close to my side as we cross the driveway and reach the stairs. “I haven’t been in forever though. Not since my dad…” Her lips thin as she moves up the stairs. “Sometimes it’s hard to believe it’s been twenty-six years. In a lot of ways it feels like yesterday.”

I tuck my chin. “I know what you mean.”

The front door opens suddenly, startling Sybil. She teeters on the edge of a step, scrambling as she tries to maintain her balance. I hook an arm around her body, pulling her side against mine. “Careful.”

“These stairs are kind of dangerous.” Sybil looks over the stone beneath our feet. “Pretty, but dangerous.”

I’ll have to remember to bring her in through the back next time. Especially if she’s still as jumpy as she is now. Sybil seems calm, cool, and collected on the outside, but now that I’m paying closer attention, the knuckles on the hand gripping her coffee are nearly white. And her other hand is clutching the front of the shirt I gave her like it’s a shield that can protect her from whatever’s coming.

If she really is just here looking for answers about her father’s death, she’s being fucking brave as hell. Or stupid as hell. I can’t quite decide.