Chapter 15

Yuri woke as though someone had hauled him from the bottom of the sea. Harsh sunlight stabbed through his eyelids, and the sounds of the world rushed back into his ears: birds chirping nearby, people talking somewhere in the distance.

When did I fall asleep?

Only a moment ago, he had been certain they were traveling along a black road with nothing around them. Now, when he opened his eyes, a bright gas station filled his vision. Yuri jerked upright and swept his gaze over the surroundings. The station had a parking lot large enough for ten freight trucks, as well as a shop and an attached Tim Hortons.

He had intended to close his eyes for no more than a moment, so waking in full daylight felt absurd. Even when he slept deeply, he rarely managed more than four hours. Judging by the sun, however, it had to be after eight. When he took out his phone, the display confirmed that it was already a little past nine.

He had forgotten to charge it, and the battery hovered near death. Before the device could shut down, Yuri saw two missed calls from Alexei and a jumble of messages from both Alexei and Heather. He stared blankly at the screen, then opened the glove compartment in search of his charging cable.

The cable he always kept there was gone.

So was Cherriot.

At the sight of the empty driver’s seat and the open window, a headache began to pulse behind Yuri’s eyes. His reward for sleeping too deeply was a flood of questions: Where were they? Why was the cable missing? Where had Cherriot gone? None came with an immediate answer.

Yuri checked the back seat first. Someone had reclined the passenger seat almost flat, giving him a clear view behind him, and Cherriot’s suitcase remained where it had been, behind the driver’s seat. Once Yuri concluded that the man probably had not fled, he noticed the jacket spread across his thighs.

It was the black jacket Cherriot had been wearing.

What is this supposed to be?

If Cherriot had wanted to take it off, he could have tossed it into the back. Why lay it over Yuri’s body? Had he simply wanted to leave it somewhere visible?

Frowning, Yuri was about to fold the jacket when he spotted a broad-shouldered man walking toward the car from across the lot. A beanie sat low over his head, and sunglasses concealed his eyes, but Yuri recognized Cherriot at once.

He approached with an easy stride, as though returning from a leisurely morning walk. A red paper cup occupied each hand, and a large paper bag hung from one wrist. He looked offensively carefree for a man who had nearly been shot to death nine hours earlier.

Noticing that Yuri was awake, Cherriot lifted one of the cups and waved. Yuri was certain they were not close enough to greet each other from a distance like that. Apparently unsatisfied with merely waving, Cherriot quickened his pace and crossed the remaining distance in a few long strides.

“You’re awake, sleeping prince?”

He bent through the open driver’s-side window and held out a coffee. Yuri accepted it before thinking. Only after hearing the absurd title did he fully register that he had slept soundly enough for Cherriot to watch him. Exposing such a weakness to a near stranger left him with an immediate sense of failure.

“You haven’t forgotten that I’m a criminal you despise, have you?”

“If you think about it, royalty are criminals too. In the past, they punished people for things that weren’t even crimes.”

The rich aroma of roasted coffee rose from the cup. Now that sleep had taken the sharpest edge off his exhaustion, the smell made Yuri feel almost human again. He resisted the urge to drink.

It was not that he particularly distrusted Cherriot. He simply had no way to know what the cup contained.

Then again, if he wanted me dead, he could have done it while I slept.

Yuri remained silent, frowning down at the coffee. Cherriot apparently mistook his objection and revised the nickname.

“Fine. If you don’t like ‘prince,’ I’ll call you ‘wolf.’”

“What?”

“I came up with it because you act like a lone wolf. Besides, you’re the only one allowed to call me by a pet name in public, so I should have one for you too.”

“Call me Campbell.”

Yuri offered the surname printed on his false identification. Cherriot snorted and opened the car door.

“I said it has to be a nickname.”

The car rocked beneath his weight as he climbed in. The previously empty interior seemed to fill with him all at once, and the quiet morning immediately became noisier.

“Wolfie is perfect. My favorite picture book happens to be Wolfie the Bunny. You should read it someday. It’s an excellent book.”

“Campbell is more than enough.”

“Wolfie, here’s breakfast. Unfortunately, there’s no red meat, so you’ll have to make do.”

Ignoring Yuri’s refusal, Cherriot placed his coffee in the cup holder and pulled a muffin and a bagel from the paper bag.

“It’s morning, so this was about all Timmy’s had ready. I bought a muffin and a bagel. I skipped the wrap because it’s annoying when the filling gets on your hands.”

He held out both items, evidently asking Yuri to choose. Yuri considered repeating the request Cherriot had ignored, but the smell of food drew his gaze downward. Since he did not care which he ate, he deferred the choice.

“I don’t care. Take whichever one you want.”

“Really? Then I’m having the bacon muffin.”

“Fine.”

Cherriot invented pet names without permission but sought consent over breakfast. Faintly incredulous, Yuri took the bagel. Cherriot resumed the soft humming he had kept up while driving, claimed the muffin, then fished a hash brown from the bag.

His hand was so large that the hash brown looked no bigger than a tater tot. Yuri watched him finish it in two bites, hesitated once more, then drank the coffee.

Warmth spread through him.

The emptiness in his stomach stung as the drink reached it, so he bit into the bagel next. He had believed himself accustomed to hunger, but a few years of comparatively comfortable living had apparently lowered his tolerance for both sleeplessness and an empty stomach. The first bite awakened his hunger with savage force, and he finished the bagel almost immediately.

He had gone an entire day without eating. One bagel was nowhere near enough.

Since they had stopped at a rest area anyway, Yuri decided to buy more. He folded the wrapper into neat corners and was about to place it in the paper bag when he caught Cherriot staring at him.

“What?”

Sleep had roughened his voice into a low rasp. Rather than answer, Cherriot extended the muffin.

“I’ll make a special exception and give this to you.”

“I don’t need it.”

“No, take it. Cheap chains like Tim Hortons don’t usually suit my palate.”

The man who said that had inhaled his hash brown. Yuri gave a dry laugh and pushed the offered hand away.

“Forget it. I can buy more.”

For Alphas built like either of them, one or two breakfast sandwiches would not have been enough in any case.

“Oh.” Cherriot’s eyes widened with sudden realization. “I could’ve done that. I was trying to spend as little time outside as possible, so it didn’t occur to me.”

The guileless expression stirred the same unease Yuri had felt the night before. Watching Cherriot hum after nearly taking a bullet, Yuri had glimpsed an innocence that made the man difficult to abandon. Whether it came from his natural disposition or from having lived as an ordinary civilian, Cherriot sometimes seemed unable to grasp the gravity of his situation.

And yet he had admitted he was afraid. He was not wholly oblivious, and he had shown that he could react when danger arrived. Looking at him now, Yuri could not settle on a judgment.

He opened the car door.

“Stay inside.”

Yuri had almost closed the door when he stopped and stepped back toward Cherriot. The green eyes inside followed his movements with surprising obedience.

“Close the window. Leave it open that far, and someone could subdue you before you had time to react.”

“But it’s hot, and no one recognized me.”

“Use the air conditioner.”

“I don’t like air-conditioned air. It’s cold.”

Cherriot grumbled like a child. Staring at the man who had called him trash only hours earlier and was now whining at him, Yuri decided he needed to rebuild the wall between them. Between Alphas, dealings were simpler once the hierarchy became clear.

“I’m not your nanny. If you don’t want to die, do as I tell you.”

Cherriot’s eyebrows rose.

“You don’t have to sound so much like a criminal. I already know what kind of person you are.”

“Then show a little caution. You’re acting far too friendly.”

Cherriot glared at him, his green eyes made brighter by the hard morning sun. Yuri held that gaze and forced himself to remain firm. If Cherriot’s innocence was to survive intact, someone had to make him understand how easily others could exploit it.

“You trust people too readily. What happened at the hotel began because your conversation with that Omega exposed your identity. Did you know he posted your photograph to his social-media story?”

Cherriot’s expression tightened, but Yuri continued.

“Don’t accept food from strangers without thinking, and don’t leave a car window open wide enough for someone to reach through. There are people everywhere who will point a gun at you, steal your car, or threaten you. They won’t care whether you’re famous.”

The childish complaint vanished from Cherriot’s face, and he pressed his lips together. A tiny fragment of potato clung just below his lower lip, probably left there when he had eaten the hash brown too quickly. The speck made him appear younger than he was.

In truth, he was five years younger than Yuri.

Or was it four? Cherriot had said his public age was one year below his real one. Whatever the exact difference, youth did not make him a child. Yuri had begun working among adults at twelve, and he had learned early that criminals did not care what kind of person stood before them.

The weight of a victim’s life meant nothing to them. Only the victim’s usefulness mattered. The gang pursuing Cherriot would not care about his character, his fame, or his innocence. They would see only a target that could be exploited or killed.

Yuri wanted him to understand that. Danger would lessen only if Cherriot remained alert too, rather than leaving Yuri alone to carry all the tension.

“Are you going to kill me?”

The question came without warning.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“I asked whether you intend to kill me.”

“I’m here to protect you.”

“That’s right. You’re my bodyguard.” Cherriot paused, then corrected himself. “I did cancel the contract, but you came back because Heather asked you to and because of the situation I’m in. Either way, you’re working for me, so of course I’ll pay you.”

The easy expression slowly drained from his pale face. He lowered his gaze and sat for a moment in blank, inward thought before speaking again.

“Like Heather said, I hate criminals more than anything.”

Sunlight cast the fine outline of his lashes across his cheek.

“But I’m afraid of them too.”

The reddish-gold lashes trembled. At the word afraid, Yuri went still.

“People like that can do things I can’t, and they can do them without hesitation. It doesn’t matter how strong I am or how well I can fight. There are lines I can’t cross.”

Every word was true. A single line separated an ordinary person from a sinner. The difference lay in whether someone fought not to cross it or surrendered and chose the easier path. That choice separated a person from a beast.

“So don’t worry,” Cherriot continued. “I keep talking because I’m trying to keep you beside me. It isn’t because I’m attracted to you the way I was when we first met. Neither of us chose to travel together, but while we have to, I’d like things to be at least a little comfortable.”

With that, Cherriot dispelled Yuri’s unnecessary concern. He had not been careless because he felt no fear. He was frightened and simply chose not to display it.

Yuri had mistaken composure for innocence.

He had assumed Cherriot was too young and sheltered to recognize danger, but Cherriot evidently regarded Yuri himself as part of that danger. In a way, that was reassuring.

“What?” Cherriot asked when Yuri remained silent. “Do you think it’s pathetic that an Alpha my size can’t live up to his body?”

If he possessed enough caution to recognize Yuri for what he was, then he would not blindly follow anyone dangerous. Yuri had judged him too heavily by his outward behavior.

“No.”

Yuri had learned through pain that appearances were never enough to judge a person, yet he had made precisely that mistake with Cherriot. He shook his head.

“If that’s the reason, I apologize.”

Cherriot did not follow Yuri’s preferred standards, but that did not mean he was not doing his best.

“I judged you by my own standards because I didn’t understand your position.”

There was nothing more Yuri could reasonably demand from someone trapped in an abnormal and frightening situation. Yuri had not wanted any of this either, but if their discomfort could be measured, Cherriot’s was surely greater.

He decided to accommodate him where he could. They would not remain together for long, and a little consideration would cost Yuri nothing.

At the apology, Cherriot slowly lifted his head. His long lashes fluttered once, and he looked faintly startled. Yuri met his eyes on purpose. He remembered his mother telling him long ago that holding another person’s gaze could help settle them.

The one offering reassurance had to remain calm when the other person was afraid.

“You should wipe your lip.”

Yuri indicated Cherriot’s mouth with his gaze, then tapped his palm against the car.

“Leave the window open only a crack. I’ll be back within ten minutes, so don’t go anywhere.”

If trouble were going to strike at this rest stop, it probably would have happened already. Yuri had slept defenselessly for hours, leaving more than enough time for several disasters, yet both of them remained alive. Cherriot’s judgment had not been entirely wrong.

It was enough for Yuri alone to remain constantly on edge.

He turned toward the rest area. Behind him, Cherriot slowly raised a hand to his mouth, found the tiny fragment of hash brown, and stared at it on his fingertip. An unreadable confusion passed over his face.

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