Adrian was up a second after her, very aware that this was the moment she might be her most dangerous. He bent over to pull up his jeans, unable to keep from grinning in satisfaction.
A thick medical book sailed over his head, slapped the side of the tent and slid down the canvas wall in front of him. He laughed, turning to watch her as he fished in his pockets for a smoke.
Tonya had jerked her dress over wild curls and was pulling on a calf high black boot, tears of rage blurring her vision as she sat on the neat floor. "You'll pay for this! I'll tell!"
Her fake accent was gone, and she snarled when his confident smile remained in place; his cold blue eyes full of remorseless pleasure. "You're a whore. They already know that."
"Even you can't get away with rape!" she sputtered, clumsily pulling on her other boot.
Adrian shrugged, watching her carefully. "Don't know of any rape conviction where the woman got two orgasms before she started complaining."
"If they knew what kind of man you really are, they wouldn't follow you anywhere!"
Tonya stomped from the tent with sticky thighs and Adrian's mocking voice following her out into the cold, windy air.
"But they don't know, Red, and, from you, they'd never believe."
Adrian returned to his notebook with a smirking look few in camp would have recognized. There might be a skirmish or two left, but the war between him and Tonya was over. She was an outcast, the camp treating her the way he did, and tomorrow, when she claimed they were sleeping together, he would deny such a nasty lie. It would drive her crazy that this time she was telling the truth, and no one would believe her.
Adrian's smile faded. His leadership hadn't been questioned once after Joe's death, but later, when Neil had told him his quick, brutal execution of the killer had gotten him the camp's final approval, Adrian had to stop himself from telling the Arizona State Trooper how morally wrong it was to earn respect by taking a life. It was a hard, new world, and they were all adjusting as best they could.
Sure would be easier with a few more of the good men his dreams had promised, Adrian thought, pulling on his boots. Just a few. He had a couple of go-to guys who showed promise, but frankly, he needed a lot more than those here could give.
Just after midnight now, it had been seven weeks since the War, and they were spending four days in the heavily wooded Fish Lake National Forest. Camped just below Milford, Utah, they were waiting for a small group of men to get back from a supply run to a nearby food warehouse. The storms had slowed them down.