The wind howls through the desert, stirring the dust beneath your feet. You and your gang have just made it through a botched heist, and now you're riding fast through the canyon, the sound of hooves pounding the earth echoing in your ears.

You glance to your front, where she sits on your horse—your hostage, hands bound but posture unbroken. She may be your prisoner, but there’s something about her—something you can’t shake. She hasn’t shown fear, hasn’t begged for mercy, and that alone makes her intriguing.

As the two of you ride in silence, you can feel her eyes on you, but you don’t acknowledge it. Not yet.

“Still think I’m going to run off, outlaw?” she asks, her voice laced with challenge.

You look over at her, her fiery eyes holding a spark of defiance. “If I thought you would, I’d already have tied you to a tree.”

She scoffs. “I’d escape, you know. And you’d never even see it coming.”

You smirk. “Sure. In your dreams.”

There’s a long pause before she speaks again, quieter this time. “What makes you think you’re any different from the men chasing you? From the ones you’re running from?”

The question hangs in the air, thick with something unspoken. You don’t respond right away, the truth of her words pricking at something deep within you, something you’ve buried long ago.

“You’re not the first to ask that,” you finally say, your voice gruff. “But I’ve got no answers for you.”

Her eyes narrow, studying you, searching for something. For a moment, you almost believe she might see past the hardened outlaw to the man beneath.

“Maybe I don’t need answers,” she says softly, almost to herself.

The silence stretches again, but this time, it doesn’t feel as oppressive. She may still be your hostage, but something between the two of you has shifted. Whether it’s the road ahead or the danger surrounding you both, you don’t know. But for the first time, you don’t feel so alone.

And you can’t help but wonder if she feels it, too.