He tossed her a cookie. “Here.”
It flew past her and she scrambled after it.
“We’re going to be living rough for a while,” he said. “Get used to it.”
“We could look in the restaurant.”
Yeah, they could. He probably should. But the chances of her agreeing to stay behind were shit. “We’ve got energy bars from the drugstore. That’ll do.”
She sat back on the edge of the bed and tore into the cookie.
“I’ve been thinking about what we should do next,” he said.
She nodded and munched away. A crumb sat at the corner of her mouth, messing with his thinking. The urge to lick it away was distractingly strong. She swallowed and cleared her throat. “As your former captive, I just wanted to say how much I like this use of the word we. Especially when you actually mean it. Go team.”
The pistol sat beside her on the bed, silently accusing him. “Ros …”
The smile she gave him turned him inside out and upside down. She’d clearly been a happy person before everything had gone to shit, you could tell. He’d never imagined ending up with a chirpy chatterbox. Nothing had worked out how he’d imagined. But to see her smiling despite everything and no matter the state of the world did something to him.
“So what are our choices?” she asked.
“There is somewhere to go.” Not a place he could go, but for her Blackstone would be perfect. The alternative would be to have her running amok in a world she couldn’t handle. A world likely to kill her if he didn’t watch her every second of every day. He didn’t trust himself that far, not now. What if he f**ked up? What then? She died.
Nick stretched out his hand, splaying his fingers. All of his choices sucked. He hated each and every one of them. Her safety came first, but he didn’t know if he could do it. He didn’t know if he could give her up and he didn’t know if he could give her what she needed.
Whatever the f**k that might be.
“Where can we go?” she asked, trust burning bright in her eyes.
Thought he’d had it all figured out, but he didn’t know shit. There was the truth. He had no business demanding she believe in him and rely on him. Not with the way he treated her.
“There are no bullets in the gun,” he said softly.
She paused. “What did you say?”
“The gun I gave you. It’s empty.”
Her words, when they came, were slow, careful. “Why would you do that, Nick?”
“I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do. Was it some kind of test?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
She nodded and looked away, face carefully set. No surprise, though. That’s what was wrong with this picture. Shit.
“You knew?” he asked, voice incredulous.
She gave him a grim smile. “I told you I knew about guns. You emptied the clip when I was gathering clothes in the shop, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
“This is never going to work, is it?” Her lips looked pinched and she stared at her hands for a long moment. “Of course it isn’t. I was so angry at you but now … I’m, um, I’m tired.”
“Roslyn.”
A small nod.
“Here’s what I’m going to do,” he said. “I’m going to go out to the truck and bring in our stuff. Then I’m going to put the bullets back in your clip. Tomorrow, we’re going to start talking over scenarios. Situations you might face and how you’d deal with them. Stuff like that. I’ll teach you some skills. Okay?”
She didn’t answer for a moment. “Do you mean that?”
“Yes. We might even work our way to looking at clearing a room together. Maybe. When I judge you’re ready, and not before.”
Ros wriggled about, rolling over to face him. Cautious eyes studied his face. “I can’t tell if you’re serious or not.”