I stared at his hand like it was a snake. My lips twitched with the effort of holding back everything I wanted to scream at him. Instead, I grabbed the saddle horn and hauled myself up without his help.
He handed me the reins.
I frowned down at him. "What are you doing?"
"You're taking Zeus. I'll ride Razor."
"Oh. That's just great." I snatched the reins from him. "Can't wait to get rid of me, huh? You're an asshole."
His jaw tightened, but he didn't respond.
“Here.” I tugged his shirt off and threw it at him. Last thing I needed was to see all his bruises, to see what he’d suffered through to save me.
He snatched it mid-air and pulled it on. Then he moved to Razor and swung into the saddle with that easy grace that made me want to scream.
I turned Zeus away before he could see the tears stinging my eyes.
Bastard. Complete and total bastard.
We rode in silence as the sun burst over the horizon and climbed higher, turning the air into a furnace. Sweat trickled down my spine and soaked through my shirt.
I kept waiting for Mitch to say something. Anything. An apology. An explanation. Hell, even another lie would be better than this suffocating quiet. He rode ahead on Razor, his back straight and tense, fury rolling off him in waves that matched the Outback's brutal heat. My ass ached from the saddle, my throat stripped raw. I tried to work up enough spit to swallow, but my tongue had turned to dried leather, stuck fast to the roof of my mouth.
"Mitch." I barely recognized my own voice, it came out so rough. "I need to stop. I need a drink."
He halted Razor, and when he turned to look at me, a shift occurred in his expression. The hard edge softened. He looked almost guilty, like he'd forgotten I was human and not just another problem to deal with.
He dismounted and came to my side. I had no choice but to let him help me down off Zeus, though every part of me wanted to refuse. His hands were steady on my waist as I slid from the saddle, and for just a second, his fingers lingered and his mouth opened as if he wanted to say something.
But he didn't.
The moment my socked feet hit the ground, I winced against the tight skin on my heels and hobbled away, putting distance between us. He retrieved the water canteen from Zeus's saddlebag and strode to me without meeting my eyes. I drank a few mouthfuls, then passed it back to him. He only took a small sip before putting the canteen away and fishing something else out of the saddlebag.
He handed me a dried biscuit. "Here."
I took it, expecting him to get one for himself. He didn't.
As I nibbled on the meager food, the silence stretched between us as brutal as barbed wire. He was so damn good at being completely inaccessible. Well screw him. We were trapped together, and he had nowhere to run. I wasn't going to make this easy for him. He needed to start talking. About what happened last night. About his feelings. About this whole messed-up situation.
"You can't even look at me, can you?" I said quietly.
His shoulders heaved with a breath, and finally, he cleared his throat. "Look, Charlie. I have a lot of shit going on in my life."
I gasped and threw my hands out wide. "Oh my God! You have shit going on? My boss tried to kill me, but because he's dead, nobody will believe me. I'll lose the job I love. I won't have a home. And on top of that, the most important paleontology find in Australian history was washed away because of me. So don't talk to me about problems, Mitch."
"You don't know me, Charlie."
I snapped back. "I know you're more worried about finding your father than protecting me."
"Bullshit." His voice turned savage. "I hope that asshole was ripped to shreds by dingoes and felt every goddammed fang on his skin. If he's not dead, I'll kill him myself."
I gasped. "Jesus, Mitch. You don't mean that."
"I damn well do." Every inch of his body vibrated with anger.
"Because he locked you in that shed overnight?"
"What? Hell no. That's nothing compared—" He cut himself off, his jaw clenching so hard the muscle jumped beneath his beard.