Hidden in plain sight, a mile from the road, in a rocky cow pasture, Virginia sat on the tailgate of Jason’s Ranger, staring into the trees. Beyond the thick oak limbs they sat under, the hills rolled abruptly into a dark wall, separating them from the valley from which they came. Sleeping giants they could not pass until they were not pursued.

All that anger she hadn’t believed Jason about had ripped open and engulfed her in its fury. Her head pounded. Her heart ran fast. Her body remained locked to that dirty wood floor even though she sat unfettered, staring at the mountains. She longed to crawl to the rim and stand among the table mountain pines until she was gnarled and bent, and her roots clung deep against the wind, the passing rain, and the clouds drifting rime ice all winter.

“Is Tourmaline okay?” she asked finally.

“She’s fine,” Jason muttered over the flashlight between his teeth, pawing through a little Rubbermaid bin of first-aid supplies he’d pulled out of the truck.

Her stomach tightened. She had been afraid of his anger, but was now more afraid of his gentleness. More afraid of how to live now. “I didn’t mean to hurt her. I didn’t feel tired . . . I didn’t think.”

He took the flashlight out of his mouth. “You’re not allergic to latex, right?”

“No.” She stared as he started opening gauze pads. “How did you get Hazard to let me go?”

“He’s afraid of the consequences of telling me no.”

“Which are?”

He didn’t respond.

The wind swished smooth patterns through the grass and shook the leafy oaks stretching high into the dark sky. She swallowed and looked down at her hands, remembering the grip of his fingers as he pulled her through the grass.

“You okay?” he asked.

“I’m alive.”

“That’ll do.”

She sniffed and nodded.

“How do you feel?”

“Lucky.”

He made a soft chuckling sound. “I mean, what hurts?”

“Everything.” The more the adrenaline ebbed, the more pain she found.

Grasping her chin, he gently turned her head to inspect whatever it was that stung on her face. Despite the circumstances, Virginia felt that same feeling in his hands—of girlishness and softness she wouldn’t otherwise have known she had. Of peacefulness somehow. She closed her eyes and soaked it in.

The flashlight switched on again, blinding her even with her eyes closed.

“Mmm,” he said.

“What?”

Jason didn’t say. The light went off, and he tilted something liquid. “How long have you been working for him?”

“Since I was fourteen. My mom got a few DUIs and couldn’t pay the legal fees to keep herself out of prison. He took me instead. I was worth eighteen hundred, twenty-two dollars and fifteen cents.”

“After your dad died?”

“My daddy didn’t die,” she whispered, looking up at Jason and into the moonlight. “He was put down.” She rarely thought about it, if she could help it. But everything was raw and cut open, oozing in horrible ways. Including his memory. Her father had been murdered—found dead in his recliner in the house, a bullet through his temple, no sign of any other disturbance. The sheriff had done the usual sort of investigation, but nobody much cared to find who’d done it. It was well known what kind of person he was, not that anyone did much about it except blame Virginia’s mother for not leaving. No one except her mother had really mourned him, and only God knew why.

Jason didn’t move for a second, and then he readjusted the gloves. “This is going to sting,” he said softly. He pressed the pad to her chin and it did sting. It stung like hell.

“Take a deep breath.”

Virginia tried, but couldn’t take much of one. The air cut off in a sharp gasp of pain. She forced several shallow breaths instead.

“I’ll check that out next.” He dabbed the gauze again. “Where’s your mom now?”

“Drinking? I don’t know. Hopefully drinking peacefully, I guess. I moved back in with her a couple months ago, but she has a new boyfriend so I mostly stay out of their way.”

“Where did you live when you didn’t live with her?”

“A boyfriend’s. We aren’t together anymore.”

“What do you do for Hazard?”

“Pills and, when out of state, cigarettes. Or. I used to do that. I don’t know what’s ahead of me.”

“At pageants?” He sounded surprised.

She nodded, wishing it wasn’t so dark that she could see his eyes. “And at school.”

“Not a bad hustle. Not at all.” He put the gauze down and started rustling with another one. “So, what happened?”

“I don’t know.” She paused, pulling a long burst of night air into her nose. “I realized I wasn’t as valuable as I thought. He wasn’t going to . . . force me . . . but he . . .” She stared at the mountains shadowed under the moonlight. “He was going to wear me down. Break me and remake me into something I never planned to become.”

The wind gusted, catching the shorn and choppy ends of her hair and pushing them into her face. She winced as they brushed the edges of whatever was raw and open on her jaw.

He straightened. Gathering up the loose hair, he twisted the ends. And tucked them into the back of her tank top.

They immediately started slipping out, and shamefully, she wanted to cry that her hair was gone. But she just licked her lips. “Why are you alone?”

He shook his head, peeling off his gloves and pulling out a new pair. “Because I’m a sugar-frosted fucktard of the first order.” He sighed and brought another gauze pad to her face, dabbing something cool onto whatever stung. Probably from when she hit the floor, she realized. “I broke a few rules tonight. So we’re going to try and keep this quiet.”

He’d come for her without the protection of his brothers, without the patch on his back that made him something bigger than one man, and the realization of what he’d risked bloomed wide and expansive in her chest. Swallowing, Virginia stared into the sky and the hazy stardust shining into the valley. “Rules?” she choked out.

“What’s a line if you don’t cross it now and then?” He put down the gauze. “Take another deep breath.”

Virginia started a deep inhale and was cut short by a stab of pain in her ribs.

“Raise your arms.”

She did.

He stepped closer. “I’m going to check your ribs; is that all right?”

“Yes.”

“Just breathe normally.” Jason put his hands on her ribs, pushing gentle pressure through her shirt and the gloves he still wore. The moonlight slanted across his shoulders, shadowing his face.

She clenched her jaw.

“Take a deep breath.”

Inhaling as deeply as she could, she moved her hands to his shoulders, gripping tight as the pain hit her ribs. The wind died down and the wood thrushes began a midnight chorus, trilling clear and sharp under the oak limbs threading above their heads.

“Again.” He moved. His fingertips closed on her ribs. The weight of his big hands cinched together what felt ripped into shreds.

She clasped her hands behind his neck.

“Again,” he whispered, voice thicker.

She wanted to kiss him. To taste him. This shadow under the moon that had come for her. Her breath came faster, shallow against the pain. She swayed closer.

He abruptly pulled away. “Does Tourmaline know?”

Virginia blinked, longing stuffed into her throat and pain stabbing into her ribs with each unsteady breath. “Yes,” she croaked, and then remembered all her lies. “Not really.”

“She’s asking for you.” Jason peeled off the gloves. “I think your ribs are just bruised. If you want, I can take you to the emergency room.”

Her throat tightened. With Jason, she had a chance—a small chance, but a chance. With Tourmaline, however, there was nothing. Not if Tourmaline knew all Virginia had done.

“I’m okay.”

“You sure?”

Virginia nodded, easing herself off the tailgate.

“If it hurts real bad, you can gently wrap them. But don’t leave them wrapped long.” He stuffed the trash into a grocery bag, head still down. “They’ll heal better if you just leave them alone and take it easy.” He put the bag down and started piling things back into the first-aid container.

She reached for his hand, but he kept putting things into the trash. “Jason,” she murmured.

The question weighed on her chest, suffocating her worse than the constriction in her ribs. What was she worth to him that he’d taken this risk? “You didn’t have to do this.” She wanted to say she was sorry, but the words felt flat and dull and like nothing they needed to be.

“I know,” he said without turning. Said with control.

Her hand slipped, barely gripping his wrist, but she didn’t move, staring beyond him, beyond the moonlit field into the pitch-black horizon. The sun was going to rise soon, but it was hard to imagine what kind of day it would bring. “Please tell me why?” she cried, horrified to hear the breaks in her voice.

Jason took her wrist and gently pulled out of her grasp. “You’re someone Tourmaline cares about. She was afraid for your safety.”

Because of Tourmaline? “That’s all?”

“That’s all,” he said.

She remembered his mouth. How he tasted of something sweet and sharp and deep. How he’d held her so gently and kissed her so intently. She crossed her arms and looked away, swallowing until her throat felt clear. “How much longer do you think we need to stay here?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know how badly he wanted to punish you.” He shut the truck door and pulled out a smoke. “And how much of a risk he’s willing to take by going after me.”

The birds called to each other, and the honeysuckle breeze played with the ends of Virginia’s hair. “Mind sharing?” she asked.

The moon was on his face now, and his eyes flickered up to her as he dragged in a breath. The sharpness cutting even in the dim, blue light. Pulling the smoke out, he handed it over.

She took as deep a breath she could, grateful for the steadying buzz.

“I’ll leave some pain meds for you.”

She nodded and exhaled, staring at the glowing ember. “Thank you.”

He didn’t say anything.

If she had more than a yawning black longing in the space of her chest, she’d have thought something like she would love him forever for coming for her. For this one moment—in which she hadn’t asked, hadn’t deserved, and he’d risked it all for her anyway—meant the world, and the universe, and all she could imagine of goodness being in existence, and if he had whispered that he was God, she would have worshipped him for eternity. Turning, she offered the smoke.

He reached.

She pulled it away.

His gaze came to her. Confused.

Taking a quick step, she pushed into his chest. Into his mouth. Holding the smoke clear of their bodies.

Despite what he’d said a minute ago, his mouth opened, hungrily. That same sharp, sweet taste. That same overpowering headiness. She could get used to its shock.

His warm hands opened on the outside of her thighs, pulling her hips snug against him.

She put her hand to the side of his face, grabbing the scruff of his beard just in case he moved away. When he moved back, she nipped at his bottom lip.

Some noise escaped his chest and his arms wrapped low over her ass, cinching her tighter, higher into his body. He pulled away and buried his face in her neck, wrestling—she could feel it. Not wanting to want her. Even as his warm mouth opened on her throat, his grip was loosening.

She gently bit at his earlobe, his earring cool on her tongue. But she’d slid down just far enough to cut into her ribs. Wincing, she tried to push herself back up.

But the pain had broken the rush between them.

He gripped her hips and set her down. Away from him. Exhaling, he nabbed the still glowing cigarette out of her fingers and dragged in a deep breath. A shaking breath, she saw with satisfaction.

“Too late, Jason,” she whispered. “I see you.” Just in case he thought she might forget about him when he wasn’t there. Just in case he thought she’d forget what he had done.

His eyes flickered up, pinching the cigarette between his fingers and exhaling a long wispy cloud. “Stop looking.”

She wouldn’t. He’d come for her and now she was his, whether he wanted her or not. She was going to help Tourmaline, if Tourmaline would take her help. Lifting her chin to the dark tide of mountains, she took a deep breath against the pain.

And above all, she was going to make Hazard pay.