Night Ride

Chapter 3

She woke slowly, the ache in her arms sent pain streaking down her spine. She adjusted on her side and felt his arm around her. She opened her eyes and it all came back to her in a flash. The chase, Him pinning her down in the dirt. They had travelled about a mile or so from that spot and set up camp. It was icy on the planes and when he told her to lay next to him her body quivered with revolt. He couldn't have been serious. He then narrowed his eyes from reading her face and told her it was simply for warmth. She then surrendered and lay next to him simply because she was exhausted. She had fallen asleep as soon as her body had relaxed into his.

There was a point in time when she loved waking next to him, feeling his solid body behind hers. His heat seeping into her body and the soft brush of his breath on her nape. It had felt as natural as breathing, to where she didn't even think about it. She had always waken first, turning and placing a light kiss on his lips. She could still picture his eyes opening, crystal clear blue and alight with a lazy desire. He would roll her on top of him and kiss her more firmly, the heat kindling in both their bodies quickly erupting into and uncontrollable inferno. But that was not what was happening now.

No, she woke and the first thought in her head was how to escape. She measured his breathing and judged him still asleep, she knew he would probably wake if she moved. Her shoulders were painful and she adjusted ever so slightly to relieve some of the ache. Her wrists felt raw from the rope and she could see the pink skin beneath. Her delicate skin was not made for such abuse, but he wouldn't care. She couldn't comprehend why he was bringing her in, after all... No! don't think about that. The last thing you need is to be feeling hurt. She sighed, dawn was just peaking over the horizon and she cursed it. Being asleep she hadn't been able to plan an escape. she turned her head slowly and looked at him, he was sound and lightly snoring. She began to form a plan, if she could just get the blasted ropes off then it was a straight shot for Strike. He had left all their rigging on the horses last night except for the bed roll they laid on now. She looked at her wrists and pulled one hand. Rough rope dragged over raw skin and she forced herself to ignore it. She managed to get it half way over her wrists and stopped. She knew she had been moving and he would feel it. She knew, because she could feel every move he made.

His breathing was still steady but his snoring had stopped. She waited a good ten minutes before working her hand again. Her hand came free with a jerk and she thanked god for bestowing her with small delicate wrists. She stopped as she felt his arm tighten around her waist. She kept her breathing even as her heart raced. His breathing was constant and she decided he was still asleep. She counted to 100 then began to move. She worked one muscle at a time and every time she gained an inch she stopped and counted again. He didn't move. She managed to get almost free from his arm when she heard his voice.

"When you get a hand free you should really take advantage of it and take the gun from your captor." She whipped her head and found his eyes open and staring at her with amusement. His light blue eyes smiling down at her. "How long have you been awake?" "When you first moved. You should know me better then that Em, i'm a pretty light sleeper." Anger flared in her eyes. "I was ALWAYS the first to wake up." "That was ALWAYS after a night of a hard fuck." She flinched at his language and felt her heart wrench from his tone. Thats really all she had been to him. Just a couple nights of fun? she didn't want to believe it, wanted to think that he really had cared about her. Her hurt was reflected in her eyes and she stared at him, her hazel green gaze pleading him to show any other emotion besides anger and resentment. He studied her with a dispassionate look and she couldn't understand where the man she had known had gone. 

"Why are you being so..." The word wouldn't come to her mind. Tears threatened her vision and she turned her head away. "So?" He asked roughly. Anger filled her chest and she just wanted to slap him. He was doing this on purpose. She knew he was, just trying to push her away, trying to hurt her. Well he had succeeded. Her heart hurt and collapsed in on its self. she had to quit feeling if she was going to survive the next few days... and whatever happened after that. She took a steadying breath and looked back at him, her voice tone flat and unemotional. "Never mind." He stared at her and she saw something streak through his eyes but it was gone before she recognized it. He pulled her against him and she saw his face completely emotionless except for his eyes which were cold with anger, the silver quickly overpowering the blue.

"Don't try me Em." She watched as his eyes changed. So, her lack of emotions was what pissed him off? Well fuck him, he hurt her and was very easily bringing her to her death. He could easily take her anger, but he would just have to deal with out anything. "I'm not doing anything Rafe. Just as I always have done in this situation. You on top rutting like a animal, and I do nothing." He jerked back as if she had slapped him. Her flat conversational tone hurting him more then she could have known. She saw anger flash and his nose flare as he breathed. He didn't say anything but sat up and then stood. She felt a twinge of regret as she watched his furious movements, and almost thought to take back the remark. Then he took hold of her arm and yanked her up. "Time to go."  He shoved her to Strike and she fell. Her untied hands saving her from falling face flat. He came over and picked her up again.

"Let go of me!" she hissed and jerked her arm. His gripped tightened and he brought her ear to his mouth. "You talk about me rutting like an animal, but I remember you begging for my touch Emma. How you clinged like a cat, all claws and mewling." "Shut up." She pulled away from him and backed up a few steps. He stared at her as if he might lunge for her again. She glared at him, this was not the man she had loved. This was the bounty hunter that cruelly brought outlaws to justice. He felt nothing, and cared for nothing, but the reward at the end of the road. She didn't want to see this side of him ever. She had blinded herself to it. but now the ugly beast reveiled, she could understand why people wanted the hunter dead.

 His gaze racked her body and he suddenly relaxed putting his hands in his pockets. "I guess things aren't always the way they once were." He watched her with a look of almost displeasure. She studied his eyes searching for any hint that he was lying to her. She again saw a flash of something then his gaze became unreadable and remote. Her hand went up to her arm where his grip felt tattooed on her skin. He hadn't really hurt her, but it had been enough to make her wary of his anger. "I guess not..." She rubbed her bicep trying to remove the memory of his touch.  

He turned and went and got the horses. She turned back to the bed roll and looked at it dully. One time a morning like this would have been filled with a different kind of heat and passion. Her hand dropped and she sat on the mat. What changed him so? just her running? She saved his life dammit. Why did he hate her? A thought crossed her mind, maybe because he was trying to make her hate him so she didn't feel so betrayed. Or maybe, he was trying to convince himself not to care anymore. She shook her head. Whatever she wanted to believe was wrong. He hated her, period. But yet he still seemed to feel something... She wanted to cry but did nothing of the sort. She didn't love him, she couldn't now. She wouldn't love him any more.

She looked up and found him approaching with the horses. Her hands were free, why wasn't she running? She reached to her ankle and felt her knife there. She watched him and came to a decision, one she would not revoke and put into effect right now. She slipped it out of the sheath and held it to where he couldn't see. Standing she started to approach, her mind numbing for the battle and planning where her point of attack would be. He had taken her gun but he was in for one hell of a fight. He had loved her once, but now treated her like she was less then a pebble in his shoe. She would show him an example of the hell a woman scorned could make. Because she would do whatever she could to escape... including kill him.