Chapter 26

26

Freya followed Abe across the rocky landscape, her feet aching. They had driven until the SUV ran out of gas. Then walked after stripping the car of any trace of their presence.

She was hyperaware of Abe’s proximity, the rhythm of his breathing at her side. Now and then, he’d turn, dark eyes scanning their surroundings before landing on her, making her heart jump.

She’d dressed quickly after they found the tracker, her skin still tingling, but not from the cold, but from the way he’d looked at her. No man had ever looked at her like that before. Like she was a revelation. As if she was the most desirable thing he’d ever laid eyes on.

The intensity had scorched through her, leaving her breathless and hyper-aware of every inch of her body. Was this what she’d read about in the romance novels she skimmed most nights? A spark of connection she’d dismissed as mere fantasy? The realization that such a look could exist outside the realm of fiction made her mouth go dry.

She was sure he’d taken the time to peruse the length of her body. She’d been wearing her shirt and panties, but she might as well have been naked. The weight of his gaze had left trails of heat that lingered even now on her sensitized skin.

She had never felt more exposed. More seen.

“You okay?” His voice snapped her back to the here and now.

She glanced over at him, missed her footing.

His hand shot out, steadying her with a grip that sent a jolt of electricity through her overwrought nerves. His touch lingered a fraction longer than necessary. “Easy now.”

“I’m good.” Her nod was sharp and jerky. Please let go of me before I melt.

With a nod of acknowledgement, he did as she asked and she could breathe once more. They were doing their best to use the wilderness for cover, relying on the dips and folds of the land because the tree cover was so scrappy,

Each time they encountered a road, they veered sharply, moving perpendicular to avoid detection. The constant changes left her disoriented, but Abe seemed to know where he was going. His sense of direction was immutable.

So far, their walk had been silent, punctuated only by the sound of their footfalls and the pant of their breathing as they pushed on without a break. Abe had been insistent. No breaks or stopping unless it was absolutely required. Raptor would have the last location from where they destroyed the tracker and would move rapidly from there. Their window of escape was limited. Her legs trembled with exertion, unused to such prolonged physical strain. She resolved to take up running as soon as all of this was over.

“Not too much further.”

Freya followed his outstretched arm, straining to make out the distinction between land and sea. There, on the horizon, a sliver of silvery blue shimmered—the ocean, their gateway to temporary safety.

“And we get there. Then what?”

“Then we get you off this rock, to somewhere Raptor can’t touch you. It’ll give us breathing room to strategize. My team can figure out our next move for retrieving the laptop.”

The idea of his team lit hope in her chest. The weight of dealing with this as a lone scientist had weighed heavier on her than she cared to admit. “Fox?”

“Part of the team. We’ll get a full briefing once we’re safely on the water.”

“Is there a boat coming to collect us?” She massaged her temples, trying to soothe the tender muscles. She hadn’t eaten today and was feeling it.

“Something like that.” He gave her an enigmatic smile that grated against her scientific nature.

“‘Something like that’ is remarkably imprecise?—”

“And you want a precise answer?”

“Well—” Irritation sparked in her chest, distracting her.

Her foot caught on a protruding rock. Abe caught her arm again and steadied her, preventing her from face planting in a thorny bush. The warmth of his grip lingered even after he let go.

She straightened and swept loose hair from her face. “Yes, I do. Preciseness has always served me well. Vagueness serves no one, especially in our current situation.”

“Fair enough. I’ll be precise with you soon. I promise.”

She huffed, but he walked on, his broad shoulders set. The message was obvious. No more information would be forthcoming, at least for now.

He was far from the mindless muscle she’d pegged him for. There were layers to him. His SEAL training had undoubtedly kept them alive. But there was so much more to Abe Knight.

He was genuine and said what was on his mind and meant it. He made her feel safe, and her heart beat too fast when he got close. Her feelings for him had evolved so much in such a short period. Adrenaline had something to do with that. But there was more. More than she could admit right now.

Abe halted on a rocky outcropping. The land sloped downward to an obsidian beach.

This wasn’t the beach of sun-soaked shores in warmer climates. Black volcanic sand stretched as far as she could see, lapped by the frigid water of the Arctic Ocean.

The sight triggered a faint memory. Her father, before he died, taking her swimming. She could almost feel the breath-halting cold, her fingers blanching white, her skin numbing in the icy water.

Her father. She’d made so many life decisions shaped by loss and pain. She had always believed they were the right choices. Now she was less sure.

“Wow. It’s more beautiful than I expected.” Awe tinted Abe’s voice.

She linked her fingers through his, the gesture as natural as breathing. “My dad used to take me swimming in the summer.”

Abe turned to her. “And yet here you are to tell the tale. Is there anti-freeze in Icelandic blood?”

She rolled her eyes. “Cold water swimming boosts circulation, reduces inflammation, and improves mood by triggering the release of endorphins.”

A wry grin spread across his face. “I’ll take your word for it. Give me the sun-warmed waters of Galveston Bay any day. But this is breath-taking in its own right.”

The scent of salt and seaweed scoured their lungs as they made their way down the slope. The black sand shifted beneath their feet, an alien texture that seemed to absorb what little light the northern sky provided. In the pre-dusk gloom, the beach took on an almost lunar quality.

Abe checked his watch. “Time to send our location.”

From his pocket, he pulled out a hand-sized radio transmitter and adjusted the dials with practiced precision.

“You carry a radio?”

He shot her a quick grin. “A SEAL doesn’t leave home without one.” Static hissed as he pressed the transmit button. “Fox, this is Abe. We’re in position. Transmitting our location now.”

A burst of crackling static, then a voice came through, firm and clear: “This is The Archer. Copy your position. Extraction inbound. Stand by.”

“Now we wait. They’ll be in the vicinity. Keep a lookout.” Abe crossed the beach to some larger rocks that provided shelter. “Here we can’t be seen from behind us, so we’ll have the advantage if anyone comes looking for us from the mainland.”

She sat beside him on the cold, damp stone. A gust of wind whipped across the beach, the temperature plummeting with the setting sun. Freya hugged herself, teeth chattering.

“Here.” Abe shrugged off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. “Can’t have you freezing to death before we get you to safety.”

She clutched the warm fabric, inhaling his scent. The gesture was so simple, yet so foreign. She couldn’t remember when anyone had shown her such thoughtfulness. “I’ve never met anyone like you before.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Why are you so kind to me? You barely know me.”

He gave a soft laugh. “Maybe you’ve spent too many days in labs alone with numbers and facts.”

She studied the black sand, tiny crystals reflecting the fading light. There was truth in his words. Truth she hadn’t seen before, or hadn’t wanted to see . How many connections had she missed, buried in her work? How many moments of human warmth had she traded for the cold comfort of data?

“When this is all over, I want things to be different.”

His smile said he understood more than she’d voiced.

The soft roar of an engine cut through the air, ending her introspection. A small boat carved toward them, one man on board. “Our transport?”

Abe inclined his head. “Yup.”

“Where are we going to go in a boat that small?”

He grinned, a mischievous light in his eyes. “We’re not going anywhere on the boat. It’s taking us to our actual transport.”

“What do you mean?” Hunger and exhaustion clouded her thoughts.

Abe pointed to the horizon. Something dark broke the surface of the water. A gray whale? But there was no spout, and the rise was relentless.

Her mouth fell open. “Is that a?—”

“Submarine. Our ticket out of here.”