Page 7 of Fighting for Lucy

“Is Scarlett right? Are you a traitor?”

Wincing at the accusation, especially given what his twin had just been accused of and what she’d suffered because of it, Zander carefully wiped away every trace of emotion from his face. And his heart.

Because despite what his sister might think, he wasn’t completely heartless.

“We didn't crash because of mechanical failure,” he told Lucy, which was at least the truth, or as much of it as he could reveal without ruining everything.

“W-what do you mean?” she asked. Despite her stiff back and challenging gaze, he could see the pain shadowed beneath. How often did this woman hide her pain so people wouldn’t think she was weak?

And why did he care?

Just because he’d always felt an attraction toward his sister’s friend didn't mean he had ever intended to do anything about it. Even less so now. His choices might have been because he had been backed into a corner, but he still could have said no.

“Someone tampered with my plane, Lucy,” he said, holding her gaze so she could read the truth in his eyes. “That means they know we crashed, and they know approximately where we crashed. If your phone survived, it’s practically a honing beacon for anyone in the area to track us. Nobody good lives in this part of the world, and I don’t think we want visitors right now when neither of us is at one hundred percent.”

Indecision warred in her light blue eyes. “I guess not.”

“Trust me.” She shouldn’t, but … part of him hoped that she might. It would be nice to feel like a good guy again instead of the bad one he’d become. “We don’t want to be tracked right now, and cell phones are the worst for broadcasting your location, its why I no longer have one.”

“You really don’t have a cell phone? I thought you were lying about that.”

One of the only honest things he’d said to her. “I really don’t.”

“Because you don’t want anyone to know you're still alive.”

The accusation hit its mark just as she’d intended it to if the disapproving tone was anything to go by. That wasn’t exactly true. Hurting his sister sucked. For most of their lives they had been all each other had, and while they had drifted apart and both built new families, he’d lost his while hers was glaring angrily at him.

As much as it hurt to be reminded of his sins, it at least warmed him to know that Scarlett had a whole family of people around her who had her back. Once upon a time, he’d had that, too, until it had all been ripped away from him and he’d become the man he was today.

Suddenly, much too weary, Zander held out a hand to Lucy. “Come on, we have to get out of here.”

Again another truth. Every time he spoke something true rather than the web of lies his life had become, he felt a tiny sliver of his soul and his self-respect return. There was no way he could ever be a man who was worthy of his sister’s love, but maybe one day he could earn her forgiveness.

Maybe.

But more than likely not.

“Where are we going?” Lucy asked. Her hesitation in taking his offered hand spoke volumes. She had no idea if he could be trusted, and as much as he’d love to be able to reassure her that he wasn’t a threat to her, he couldn’t.

Because he was.

“Away from the plane so when whoever made sure we crashed comes looking for the wreckage, they won't find us in it.”

“I guess it was the mole at Prey who must have sabotaged the plane.” Lucy was still staring at his hand as though a tarantula was sitting in his palm, and it was more than obvious she wasn’t positive that he wasn’t the mole.

A crime he wasn’t guilty of although he was guilty of committing many sins.

“Maybe we should split up,” she suggested somewhat hesitantly. “That way if we do get found they don’t get both of us.”

Her comment felt like a test, one he was sure he was going to fail because there was absolutely no way he was letting this woman out of his sight. “We stick together,” he told her.

“But if they?—”

“We stay together,” he repeated, this time in the cold, hard voice he had perfected. The one that said argue at your own peril.

Lucy’s already pale face faded another couple of notches, fear turning it a sickly shade of gray, and a fine tremor rippled through her. As much as he hated scaring her, reminding her of their size differences, and how defying him wouldn’t go well for her, Zander straightened to his full height and stared down at her with expressionless eyes. A look he knew could make grown men cower let alone tiny women who were injured and scared.

“Let’s go,” he ordered, this time not giving her a choice and taking her hand. Since he wasn’t a complete monster, his grip was gentle and he eased her to her feet slowly, knowing with the head injury she was going to be dizzy. Ready to catch her if she fell, he kept hold of her once she was upright.