Thank you to mara_cleia for the cool cover!

I wake up wrapped in Ryder's arms and it's nicer than I'll ever admit out loud. It makes me feel safe and taken care of. He makes me feel safe and taken care of. Which again, is proof I'm completely losing my mind because I'm not safe. I never will be safe. So, I should not be feeling safe. I don't deserve to be safe.

I carefully try to pry his arms off me so I can slip out of the sleeping bag and question Quinn about where the nearest toilet is. I'm pretty sure I already know the answer . . . but I want a better one.

His arms only tighten however and I can't get away. I start cursing out his sleeping form under my breath and a breathy laugh echoes in my ear.

I freeze. "Are you awake?" I whisper.

"Nope," Ryder replies as he pulls me further into him.

My back is pressed into his chest, his arms wrapped around me, his face buried in my hair, and our legs tangled together.

I roll my eyes at him and try to pull myself free. It doesn't work. He's like an octopus.

"Let go of me," I whisper. I can't see Quinn, so I can't tell if she's awake or not and I don't want to wake her up if she's still sleeping.

"Your hair is a mess," Ryder says instead of complying with my demand.

I feel like hitting him. "Your face is a mess," I retort.

I feel Ryder's chest shake as he laughs. "Someone's clearly not a morning person."

I let out a huff of annoyance and cross my arms over my chest, I feel his loosen around me and then he's rolling over so he's on top of me, propping himself up on his elbows. The sleeping bag still zipped up and keeping the two of us in place.

More importantly, it's keeping me from escape.

Ryder just stares down at me while I glare up at him. When he gets that look in his eyes again and still doesn't say anything, I feel my annoyance with him shoot up.

"What?" I snap as I continue to glare.

He smiles softly, lazily and I'm completely unprepared for the words that leave his mouth.

"You're beautiful."

I feel my breath catch in my throat as I stare back at him, my glare leaving. I open my mouth to say . . . well, I'm not entirely sure. I had been expecting some more of his insulting banter.

He doesn't let me say anything though before he's pressing a light kiss to my lips. Softly, gently, as if asking for permission.

Part of me still wants to push him away since I know how this is going to end. Part of me says there's no point in trying to pursue this. And part of me says that when I told him I liked him-even though he understood none of it-that I was lying. That it was so much . . . worse than that.

Even though I know this doesn't end well for me. Even though I know this is never going to work out, I don't push him away. Instead, I slide my hands up his bare muscled chest and then wrap them around his neck. His hands play with the shirt-his shirt-that I'm wearing. He had loaned it to me to sleep in and no, it's not the bloody one. He had an extra one he'd snuck into my backpack who knows when. And he deepens the kiss.

His hands go under the shirt and brush against my skin. I shiver and pull him closer . . . and then a bag of trail mix is thrown into his head.

Ryder lets out a growl as he looks up at Quinn who stands in front of the low tunnel with her rifle slung over her shoulder and her arms crossed over her chest.

"Normally I'd be cheering you both on and leaving you alone to continue . . . this," She says as she waves a hand in our direction. My face is turning redder by the second and I bury it in Ryder's chest.

Ryder glares at her. "So why don't you?" He asks. I feel like my entire body is going to start turning red, not just my face. I peek out at her.

She narrows her eyes. "Purely selfish reasons. I don't want you ruining your stitches," She says flatly. "I'm not patching the two of you up again." She smiles sweetly. "Good morning," She adds in an overly sweet voice.

I keep my face pressed into Ryder's chest. "I'm going to die of embarrassment," I mutter.

Ryder laughs before unzipping the sleeping bag and helping me to my feet. "We should actually get ready to continue on," He says simply.

He takes a long moment to look me up and down, devilish mischief shining in his eyes. "So you can either change and give me back my shirt or I can remove it myself."

My cheeks heat up yet again and I can see in his eyes which option he's expecting from me. So I decide to go with option number three. I mean, it's not as if I'm not still in my underwear. I still have clothes on. Everything's still covered.

So, I reach for the hem of the shirt and slowly pull it over my head and then hold it out to him. Ryder's cheeks start to flush and his eyes aren't on the shirt I hold out him oh so innocently.

"Shouldn't we get going?" I question innocently as I wave the shirt at him, finally getting him to take it. Quinn, who was previously trying her best not to laugh, finally gives in. Ryder glares at her.

***

A phone's ringtone splits through the silence as we walk through the forest, going on nothing but Quinn's reassurance that we're almost there.

Ryder curses me out. "We're running from bad guys through a quiet forest and you have your volume on the entire time? How does anyone consider you a genius?"

I glare at him. "That's not mine," I growl.

He actually looks slightly sheepish when he realizes that it isn't mine and then it turns back to glare as he watches Quinn pull it out of her pocket.

She frowns down at the screen. "I don't recognize the number," She says.

Dread immediately pools into my stomach as I stare at the phone like it's a ticking time bomb.

"Don't answer it," Both Ryder and I say in unison.

"It's probably Volkov," Ryder says quietly, voicing what I had been thinking.

Quinn looks down at the phone as it continues to ring, a determined kind of anger settling over he face. She hits a button and then puts the phone up to her ear.

"Quinn," She answers.

Ryder curses her out and I stare at her wide-eyed. I feel like yelling at her because she just doesn't seem to grasp how dangerous Volkov is.

She listens to whoever's on the other end and then her determined anger turns into a look of confusion.

"I'm sorry, who is this?" She asks. She listens and the confusion doesn't go away. "Who is this?" She repeats.

Suddenly the look of confusion turns into a look of utter annoyance, frustration, and anger. "Did you think changing your number would fool me?" She growls out. "No, I'm not helping you, get that through your thick skull."

Ryder and I share a look. Somehow, I'm no longer thinking that it's Volkov. And since it takes a lot to piss Quinn off, I'm also thinking that whoever that person is, well, they're screwed.

Quinn's temper seems to skyrocket with whatever the person the other end says. "You're an ass," She growls. "Go to hell," She says as she hangs up.

She looks down at the phone that she holds in a white-knuckled grip with such hatred and anger, I'm surprised that it doesn't just self-combust right there. She then turns away, swings her arm back and then throws the phone full force into the river rushing by next to us.

Ryder watches with some kind of mix of caution and amusement. "Pleasant conversation, I take it?"

Quinn glares at him before adjusting the bag on her shoulder and continuing on.

"Who was that?" I question as I hurry after her.

"My ex," She says simply.

Ryder and I stop in our tracks.

"Your ex-husband has your number and you're not more concerned with that?" Ryder asks her.

She frowns in confusion as she looks at him and then a look of understanding dawns on her face. She shakes her head. "That wasn't my ex-husband," She explains. "That was a different ex. You know, first love, first heartbreak kind of thing."

I stare at her. "Why'd you two break up?"

She gives me a flat look. "Because he's an ass." She turns back to the trail. "He's been trying to get me to help him with something." She shakes her head. "Which was why I actually shut off my phone at one point. Which in turn was why I wasn't answering said phone when you called, sorry."

I seem to be the only one to notice the dull flush on her cheeks. My curiosity increases. "So," I start in a conversational tone. "what's his name?"

She lets out a snort and shakes her head. "That's literally just about all I could tell you," She says.

I frown at her answer. "What do you mean?"

She shakes her head again. "I could tell you what he looks like . . . well, what he looked like eight years ago when I last saw him. I could tell you his name. I could tell you his age. But I can't tell you his birthday, where he lived then or now, whether or not he has any siblings, if he had any pets, the name of his best friend . . . hell, I couldn't even tell you his favorite color."

She stares at the ground as she walks a small, sad smile makes it way onto her face. "We broke up because he was a secretive bastard and he didn't trust me. He admitted that much to me." She shakes her head again. "When I think about it now . . . I don't know why I loved him, but I did. But I couldn't take it anymore, so I walked away." She frowns. "I only recently heard from him. The phone calls probably started a couple of weeks ago."

I shrug as I walk next to her, Ryder has dropped back a little ways, leaving the two of us to talk privately. I think it's sweet he's trying to let us have a conversation just between us, but I also know Quinn wouldn't care if he was in the conversation or not.

"It seems to me like there's a reason he's choosing now to reach out," I shrug again. "Maybe it's worth listening to."

She scoffs. "Yeah, he wants something from me." She shakes her head and her expression is almost . . . sad. "He doesn't have a problem with using people. Like I said, he's an ass."

I just nod and walk along next to her. I think of asking her more questions as this is the most I've heard her talk about any guy, but I don't. My mind torn between that and everything going on.

I let out a long breath. "I'm sick of this cat and mouse game," I state after a long while of silence. "I'm sick of being chased around. I'm sick of running. I'm sick of being the damn mouse."

Quinn raises an eyebrow at me. "Well," She says. "no one said that you had to be the mouse."

I turn to look at her and she smiles. "Nicolette," She says softly. "you may not be a fighter, at least, not in the sense of throwing punches, but you have people," She nods back at Ryder. "willing to fight for you now."

I blow out a sigh. "I don't want him to get hurt. I already got someone killed." I shook my head. "I can't get him killed."

Quinn nodded and then glanced back at Ryder who was still far enough away that he wouldn't pick up on our conversation. "I know," She replies.

I shake my head as my thoughts fly back to what I'd been thinking over last night.

"You that have look about you," Quinn says.

I turn toward her. "What look?"

Quinn smiles. "The look you get when you feel you've been in one place too long. The look you get when you want to run." She tilts her head as she studies me. "But it's different this time."

"Is it?" I question sarcastically.

"Aye," She replies. "Like you want to run toward something, instead of away from it."

I shrug innocently. "You said it yourself, I don't have to be the mouse."

Quinn grabs hold of my arm and pulls me to a stop. "But I didn't say you had to do it alone."

I shake my head. "It's the only way to keep everyone safe." My gaze goes to Ryder, who's stopped further back, still giving us our privacy and right now I'm thankful for it.

"And it's a sure way to get yourself killed," Quinn tells me. "And what then? Do you think Volkov's just going to stop after you're dead? He'll still go after Ryder, just because the bloody idiot pissed him off."

I just stare back her and cross my arms over my chest.

She lets out a groan. "I'm not going to be able to talk you out of this am I?"

"Nope," I say with a shake of my head.

She runs a hand through her hair and lets out a long sigh. She closes her eyes and tilts her head up, mumbling something into the sky. She finally looks back at me. "Then what do you need from me?" She asks.

I look back at Ryder briefly. "As much time as you can give me . . . and a new pair of glasses."

"Glasses I can handle." She looks at Ryder and winces. "I'm not sure I can buy you much time though."

"Just taze him and handcuff him to a refrigerator. He loves that."

Quinn gives me a flat look. "No way." She blows out a breath. "I'll think of something. I'll buy you as much time as I can, but when he asks where you are, I'm not going to lie to him."

I nod. "It won't matter," I reply honestly. "Because you won't know where I am."

"Nicolette," She starts when I start walking away. "you, and everyone else for that matter, seem to forget that you're not just a brilliant hacker. You're also a thief," She says.

"You can walk without making a sound when you want to. You're sneaky, stealthy, agile, and fast when you want to me. Use that to your advantage," She tells me.

"I don't do that stuff anymore," I reply to her.

She shrugs as she looks at me. "That doesn't mean you've forgotten it." She continues walking next to me. "Let me know when you intend to put your plan into action."

I nod. "You'll be the first. And if you do intend to handcuff him to something please take a picture if it's the ceiling fan."

She throws her head back and laughs. "If I handcuff him to a ceiling fan, I'll be taking a video." She smiles at me. "But we need to get out of this forest first."

I nod my agreement. I think of Volkov. I think of Sarah. I think of my family. I think of all the years of running.

Cat and mouse game be damned. I'm done being the mouse. It's my turn to be the cat.