Ghost Towns

Thirty Two

 The sun was setting as the group crossed over the border of the Onyx Pack's territory. Rye turned as they crested a hill, turning to face the south, where somewhere, the pack house lay. Though the forest was dense, most of the leaves had fallen, allowing for some view of the lands below.

"What is it?" Jax asked, softly, from where he had paused beside her.

The two of them held a middle position in the line formed by the tiny group of people.

"I just can't believe I'm leaving," Rye whispered, hearing the incredulity in her voice. "Near the end it felt like I would be there forever,"

Jax's hand curled around hers. Rye basked in the steadiness of it, the surety. He had always been such a grounding force, an anchor. Without him at her side now, Rye knew she could have never found the courage to go on. Being found again in the forest after coming so close to freedom had broken her spirit, in a way she was only coming to realize now that she had avoided the consequences of it. Without Jax, Rye was in danger of drifting over deep water. 

She hadn't let him carry her very far. Rye couldn't deny that it was nice being curled up against his chest, soothed by the rocking motion as he walked, but it was simply too inconvenient, especially still so close to Onyx territory. They had to be faster, and Rye didn't want to slow down the others.

"Let's keep going," she whispered, turning around to face the endless empty forest ahead of them.

Jax nodded, threading his fingers through Rye's. "We'll go a few hours further, most likely," he said, tracing idle circles with his thumb, "but we have a camp prepared and will stop for a while. Most of the crew has not had much rest, either."

Rye glanced at him, finding his expression thoughtful. Though he ducked beneath lower branches and kept his eye on those in front of them, he did it with a sense of detachment.

Whether it was because it was the most obvious thing, or because she could read him well, Rye felt that she knew exactly what was bothering him.

"How did you arrange the...negotiation?" She asked, trying to find a neutral way to bring it up.

But oh, Jax, mysterious as he tried to appear in the first days of their acquaintance, spat the true issue out as if waiting on an opportunity to say it. "You know that I would have never hurt him, right?" He blurted, turning towards her, even stopping for moment in his eagerness to capture her full attention. "No matter what I had to make those monsters believe," he did not try to hide his desperation from her.

He turned forward, eyes downcast, even as they began to hurry to keep up with Maria in front of them. "I searched everywhere, in the beginning," he said, unable to meet Rye's eyes even as she refused to turn her gaze away from him. "I picked through every corner of unclaimed territory within five days of travel, and never came up with a single clue. By then I realized that they had decided to risk taking you into their own lands." Abruptly, he looked up, and for a second, his eyes caught the sliver of light that shone from a thin, scrawny crescent. "I should have stormed the border,"

"You couldn't-" Rye began to say, attempting to reassure him.

"No, I could have," Jax said, a sudden ferocity in his voice. "At that time I hadn't yet yet puzzled out why they took you instead of me. I was afraid that if I did something risky, they would..."

"They were not going to kill me," Rye said softly, squeezing his fingers.

"I wish I figured that out earlier."

"Jax, my love," Rye whispered, "they didn't kill me because they were using me as bait. If you had done a single thing any differently, one of us - or both of us - would be dead. They were waiting for you,"