Chapter 8: Don't You Trust Me?

~ SASHA ~

"You don't trust me?" He sounded pained. It was the first emotion he'd shown beyond irritation or sheer intensity. She turned away from the drop to gape at him.

For half a breath they just stared at each other.

"You're serious?" she breathed.

"Of course, I'm serious," he said, then stepped right up to her. Her breath got faster when he positioned himself toe-to-toe, looming over her, inches taller than he had been when they were young, his light eyes so bright they almost seemed to glow in the strange light of the moon. "I will get you out of here, Sasha. You know I will. But you have to trust me."

Trust me. Those words echoed with so many images of him in different light, different clothing, different places… a different time. A time when he could have asked anything of her and she would have said yes without hesitation.

Even here and now the words, "I do," were on the tip of her tongue. Right there. They wanted to flow out of her like the air she breathed. She had to catch them, pull them back, make her face hard. "Zev, it's been five years—"

"You know me," he growled, leaning right in until he filled her vision. "You know me! I promised you. I promised, Sasha."

She nodded. "And then you left."

A strange, low growl started in his throat, but he huffed and shook his head. "We don't have time for this right now. They'll be here in a minute. I have to get you out of here. Please, Sasha. Please." He opened his palm and offered it to her, then, with his chin still down, he lifted his eyes to meet hers, pleading with them.

It was so unfair! An assault on her tender heart and he knew it!

That sight of him, in exactly that position pulled her down, down, down into the happiest memories of her life…

She was seventeen and they'd only been together a month the first time Zev asked her to trust him. He took her walking through the city, showing her all the areas she'd always been too scared to explore. The abandoned rail yards, the culvert that ran the eastern side of the industrial district, and on that day, the deepest part of the forest that butted up to the parkland on the southern edge of the city.

She was a city girl. She'd never known quite what to do when there wasn't cement or steel nearby, the sound of rushing cars.

But he'd grown up in the country—in the mountains, he said. Hours away. A tiny town, less than a thousand people.

He'd sworn he'd take her there someday.

But that day he was taking her somewhere he liked to go because it reminded him of home. "It's quiet and you can't see the road or the buildings," he'd said, excited.

She'd been uneasy, but she wanted to be with him more than she wanted to stay comfortable. So, she'd worn her jeans and boots like he'd told her to and let him drive her out there.

Now they were deep enough into the forest that even though she could see the light from the sun overhead, when she looked around it was only trees. Trees and shadows, bushes and dirt. She couldn't hear anything except birds and, somewhere nearby, water.

He was smiling broadly, his shoulders low and relaxed and he breathed deep, like he liked the smell of the air.

While she enjoyed the pine and wet earth smells—because they reminded her of him—there was also something that she didn't want to investigate further.

But he held her hand and he talked excitedly about the strange little things he noticed—the bird in the tree that watched them pass, the insects that climbed the trunks, the tiny flower pushing between the roots of a big tree.

Then they reached a little gully—a stream had cut through the earth and eroded the banks. It was probably only six or eight feet across, but the earth was soft, and she was nervous. She didn't think she could make the jump and was afraid of landing in the water.

He'd stood on the edge, grinning at her. "Get on my back," he said easily. "I'll carry you across."

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Her mouth dropped open. "You aren't making that jump with me on your back!"

"Sure I am."

"Zev—"

"I'm serious, Sasha. Easy… Don't you trust me?" 

He smiled easily, but his eyes locked on hers and the words fell between them like a grenade, hitting the ground and ticking down to the moment it would explode, or not.

She'd swallowed hard. The truth was, she trusted him far too much. He made her feel safe. She couldn't explain it. But when he was close she just wasn't afraid. 

"I… I do," she'd said, knowing she was saying so much more than that.

He nodded seriously. "Good." And he'd opened his hand to her, palm up, left it there, waiting for her to slide her fingers over his until he gripped her arm and stooped and swung her onto his back.

And he'd made the jump, of course, even carrying her. He hadn't even grunted with the effort.

And he hadn't put her down right after either, but cradled her thighs, holding her to his back, his thumbs stroking the sides of her jeans in a way that made her breath come faster.

Trust me? It had become a thing between them. And whenever he said it, it was always with that open hand—giving her the choice. She didn't have to put herself in his hands, but he would take care of her if she did.

That day in the forest was the first time he'd given her that choice. The first time he'd let her know that he wanted her trust. The first time of many.

For the next year and half, he offered himself that way more and more, until she didn't even hesitate. Until the moment he opened his palm and gave her his eyes, she'd slide her much smaller hand into his and she'd follow without fear. Every time.

Every time.

Except the last time.

She blinked back to the present and Zev standing in front of her, his hand out again, waiting.

"I'd never let you fall," he breathed.

She felt her face fall, then. "But you already did," she insisted.

His throat bobbed and he lifted his hand—the first time she'd ever left it empty—to rub his stubbled jaw. Then he raked that hand through his hair and shook his head. "I have to get you out of here, Sasha. Whether you trust me or not, I can't leave you here for them. They're ruthless."

"What—"

"So, forgive me," he said, gruffly. "I'll make it up to you, I promise."

She blinked, frowning. "What?"

Then he moved so fast she didn't even see it happen. 

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