Unzipping his bag, he pulls out a first aid kit and a bottle of water. He opens the water and dumps it over Brendan’s head. Not what I was expecting.
Brendan’s eyes shoot open.
“Hey,” Grant says to him. “Need you to focus. Can you do that?”
Brendan blinks, nodding.
“Brendan,” Grant calls to him. “Look at me.” Brendan does. “Try to stand. We have to get away from the fire.”
I hear the hum of an engine in the distance, heading in our direction. Sounds like a dirt bike or an ATV.
When Brendan just stares at him, dazed, Grant persists. “Brendan. Stand up, buddy. C’mon.”
He slides his arms around Brendan’s chest and eases him off the ground. Brendan stumbles on unsteady legs but tries to assist Grant until he’s standing. Sort of. Holding on to Grant’s shoulder, he blinks around again, fighting to be alert.
He squints at me. “Lana?”
“We need to get out of here, Brendan. Someone’s coming.”
He searches in the distance. Hearing the motor getting closer, he nods. Grant directs us away from the barn and the trail we followed in. Brendan stumbles, unable to get his bearing. Grant grabs for him. Flinging Brendan’s arm around his shoulders, Grant helps him move forward, supporting him around his midsection.
Slipping my backpack on and gathering Grant’s, I follow after them. I glance back in search of whoever is getting closer, catching a glimpse of someone in black as we disappear deeper into the woods. There are two of them, but they’re moving toward the fire, which continues to sizzle and roar loudly, covering any noise we’re making. They never look in our direction.
When the barn is a decent distance behind us, Grant pauses and props Brendan up on a rock. Brendan closes his eyes and rubs them. He takes in a few deep breaths, touching his fingers to the side of his head, coming back with the tips covered in blood. Grant hands him a wad of gauze. Brendan takes it wordlessly and presses it to the wound.
“Let me take a look at it,” Grant says, moving to stand next to him. Brendan removes the gauze, and Grant maneuvers his hair out of the way. “It’s not deep. Head wounds bleed, so keep pressure on it for a while. I don’t think that’s what caused you to lose consciousness though.”
“No,” Brendan says, his voice raspy. “Someone came up behind me and put me in a choke hold. I was out … fast. Must have hit my head when I fell.”
“Someone?” I question skeptically, bent over with my hands on my knees as I recover. My torso feels like I was kicked by an MMA fighter. And my head is killing me.
Brendan silently looks to me, his face emotionless. But his eyes twitch with knowing.
“Brendan,” I say, my voice stone. “Who wants to kill you?”
“Kill me?” Brendan repeats with a baffled expression, like he thinks I’m overreacting.
“Oh, right. Because you knock someone out and try to burn them alive for fun. Forgot what kind of twisted friends you have.”
Grant glances between us, uncertain how to intercede.
Brendan clenches his jaw.
“You know exactly who did this,” I accuse.
“Maybe we should get out of the woods before we have this discussion,” Grant suggests, searching the area. “Whoever was on the ATVs may start driving around, looking for the person who did it.”
“Oh, I wonder where he is.” I cross my arms and glare at Brendan. “I bet you know.”
Brendan lowers his eyes, his mouth pressed into a line.
“Can you walk?” Grant asks Brendan.
He nods.
Grant takes his backpack from me, and we start back in the direction of the car. Or at least I think we do since I haven’t seen a yellow ribbon since we left the barn. Then I realize Grant has his phone out with a map on it.
“How do you know where to go?” I ask him.
“Blue dot—that’s where I parked.” He indicates the screen.
I grin at him, not knowing why I expected anything less.
Brendan moves slowly. I know he’s still recovering from the smoke inhalation and probably the head injury. But the more we move, the angrier I get. Until I feel like I’m going to catch fire myself.
“He could have killed you!” I scream. I spin toward Brendan and march over to him until I’m less than a foot in front of him. “Do you understand that? You could have died, Brendan!” Tears blur my eyes. “You could have fuckin’ died!”
Grant sets a hand gently on my shoulder as Brendan stares at me in shock. I turn from them both and stomp away, tripping over a stupid root in my escape. I swipe at the tear on my cheek. My hand comes back covered in soot. Great, now I’m crying.
“Hey,” Brendan calls cautiously, trying to catch up but he’s still too out of breath. “Princess, stop.”
I pause, refusing to face him. The last thing I want is for him to think I’m crying over him. I am, but still.
“I know he was trying to kill me,” he says. “But who thinks like that? I mean … who tries to murder people? But you’re right. I’m sorry.”
“You know it was Vic, don’t you?” My back is still to him. I run the palm of my hand over my face.
“Yeah,” he says quietly.
I jerk my head around, shocked he admitted it. He comes up beside me.
“We need to get back to Blackwood,” he says. Then he narrows his eyes to inspect me. “Are you crying?”
“Yes!” I huff. “Your fault!”
He grins.
“Here.” Grant pours some water over gauze and hands it to me.
I wipe my cheeks. The gauze comes back black.
Brendan grins wider. “You, uh, missed a spot.”
I look questioningly at Grant.
His lips press into a smile that he tries to suppress. “You’re covered in soot. You kind of look like a sniper.”
Brendan tilts his head in thought. “Or an angry pixie in war paint.” I punch his arm. “Dammit! You’re not supposed to punch me. I’m injured!”
“I’ll injure you,” I snarl.
Grant scoops me up with one arm around my waist and keeps walking, like I’m a pixie-sized clutch purse.
Brendan laughs at me, like I’m adorable. I kick at him. He swerves out of the way, still laughing.
“Oh, you think this is funny! You wait until you taste my fist down your throat. And you should see your face! You look like a burnt marshmallow!”
Grant chuckles above me.
“Don’t encourage him,” I mutter.
“I think I may have fallen in love with you all over again,” he says, smiling.
Fighting it, I try to keep from smiling but can’t.
Brendan flashes one of his cocky grins. “I knew you loved me,” he calls after me, falling behind Grant’s long strides.
I flip him off over Grant’s shoulder.
“You can put me down,” I tell Grant. “I promise not to incapacitate him.”
When he lowers me, I wait for Brendan to catch up and slam my foot down on his instep.
“What the hell, woman!” He hops on one foot and then limps forward.
“Feel better?” Grant asks, taking hold of my hand.
I shrug. “A little. Now he’ll know better than to get himself killed.”