Little Lamb

35 ❦ tear me apart

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The next morning, I sat at the campfire, chewing a hunk of meat with a slowness.
I kept my eyes trained on Riggs through my lashes, biting down harder than necessary, tearing the meat as if it were his fault I was even here.

He stood across camp, talking with his men, his attention on whatever plot they were planning for the day. But I could feel his gaze drifting back to me every now and then, trying to read whatever was simmering in my head. And if I played my part right, he'd have no idea.

Just as I expected, Burns walked by, casual and calm, like we hadn't whispered about breaking out last night, like he wasn't planning to get me out of here.

I barely moved, just a quick flick of my gaze toward him, but Riggs caught it, his sharp eyes noticing the brief glance. He tilted his head slightly, a flicker of suspicion crossing his face as he saw my eyes follow Burns.

I kept my expression blank, focusing on my breakfast as if it were the most interesting thing I'd ever seen, trying to keep my heart from racing.

Burns had warned me that Riggs was sharp, if he even got a hint that we were planning something, this would all be over. But here I was, caught between trying to look natural and playing along with a plan that felt as fragile as a house of cards.

I tore into the meat again,
imagining it was Riggs's arm I was ripping through

As I gnawed on the meat, caught up in my own twisted thoughts, I felt a hand land on my shoulder, making me jump. I whipped around, startled, only to find Allister standing there, giving me an amused look as he patted my shoulder.

"Easy, tiger," he said with a half smile, before sliding onto the log beside me. "Didn't mean to scare you."

I exhaled, rolling my eyes. "Guess I'm a bit on edge."

He settled down onto the log next to me, stretching his legs out in front of him. "Guess so. You looked like you were about to tear into that breakfast like it owed you something."

I gave him a half hearted glare but didn't reply immediately. I kept my eyes on the meat, biting down again, but this time, something was off. The texture, the taste, it was wrong. Not in a way that screamed gross, but in a way that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

Wait.

I paused mid bite, a sick realization creeping up on me. No. No way.

I stared at the hunk of meat in my hand, my stomach flipping. There was something too familiar about it. The dark, rich taste that stuck in my mouth, like... like something I'd seen not long ago.

Allister's voice broke through my thoughts, casual and light. "Good meat, right? Nice catch. Thought you'd like it."

I froze. Catch. My pulse raced. Catch?

My eyes snapped to Allister, trying to read him. "What do you mean, 'catch'?" I asked, the words slipping out before I could stop them.

Allister glanced at me, completely unfazed. "Well, it's not like we're getting steaks from a butcher. Got a good one this time. Riggs—"

I kept staring at the meat, my mind running in circles. The fawn we saw. Was this it? The one Riggs had mentioned, joking about eating it. But was he serious? Was this the one they'd hunted down, or was this just any deer?

I swallowed hard, trying not to let my disgust show too much. I glanced up at Allister.
"Is this... a little fawn?"

Allister didn't seem to catch my panic, too busy picking at his own breakfast. "I don't know.
I think it's just a deer. Why?"