Sage
Alicia doesn’t look like I imagined.
For all the stories Reeves told about her—a gun-wielding maniac, impossible to reason with—I expected someone loud and brash, maybe even a little unhinged. Instead, the woman standing in front of me is calm, calculating. Her sharp eyes study me the same way I study her, like we’re both trying to decide if the other is trustworthy.
She’s tall and lean, her dark hair pulled back into a braid that keeps it out of her face. There’s a gun holstered at her hip, but it’s not her weapon that stands out—it’s her presence. If we were in a room, it would feel smaller with her in it, not because she takes up space, but because she demands attention.
“So,” she says, her voice even but carrying an edge, “you’re the one they sent.”
“I guess I am,” I reply, keeping my tone steady. “I’m Sage.”
She doesn’t offer her name, but she doesn’t have to. This is Alicia. There’s no mistaking it.
“Reeves thinks you’ll get me to play nice,” she says, crossing her arms as she leans against a tree. “You here to convince me to roll over for him?”
We agreed to meet in a spot where we’d have visibility but could still be far enough from Reeves’ men not to be overheard. I can feel Dash’s eyes on me just as much as I can feel Reeves’, both men watching from their respective positions like this is some kind of spectator sport.
I shake my head, meeting her gaze. “Not at all. I’m here to figure out how to keep both our camps safe.”
She studies me for a long moment, her lips pressing into a thin line. Then, finally, she nods. “Good. Because if you’d come in here parroting Reeves’ garbage, this conversation would’ve ended before it started.”
I can’t help the faint smile that tugs at my lips. “Something tells me you’re not one for empty negotiations.”
Alicia’s mouth quirks, just barely. “You’d be right.”
The tension around us eases slightly, though it doesn’t disappear. There’s too much at stake for either of us to let our guards down completely.
I glance over at Reeves’ camp in the distance, my mind buzzing with questions. What kind of hold does Alicia have over him? Why hasn’t he steamrolled her camp the way he has with others? The Accord camp is massive but stretched thin, their resources strained by livestock, crops, and constant patrols. I’d seen that much already.
But it has to be more than just logistics. Something about Alicia’s camp keeps Reeves at bay.
I meet her gaze again, deciding to risk the question. “Why hasn’t Reeves forced the issue with your camp?”
Her eyes narrow slightly, and I can see her debating whether to answer. Then she tilts her head, her voice dropping slightly. “Because he knows we’ll burn the crops before we hand over the land. And we’ve made sure he knows it.”
My stomach twists at the weight of her words. “You’d really do that?”
“In a heartbeat,” she replies, her tone sharp and unwavering. “My people would rather starve free than eat under his boot. And Reeves knows it. That’s why he keeps trying to wear us down instead of coming in guns blazing. He can’t afford the loss.”
I nod slowly, the pieces clicking into place. Reeves isn’t just stretched thin—he’s desperate. Every move he makes is calculated to keep his illusion of power intact. But Alicia’s camp, with their fierce independence and nothing-to-lose attitude, throws a wrench into his plans.
“And the women in your camp?” I ask carefully. “How are they holding up under the pressure?”
Her expression softens just a fraction, the steel in her gaze giving way to something more vulnerable. “They’re tired. Stretched thin like everyone else. But they’re fighters. We’ve been through worse than Reeves.”
I nod, her words resonating deeply. “I’m not here to tell you to surrender,” I say softly. “But I think we can both agree that keeping our people safe is what matters most.”
Alicia tilts her head, studying me again. “You have a plan?”
“Not yet,” I admit. “But I have an idea. Reeves wants to come out of this looking like he’s won something, right?”
She nods slowly, her expression wary but intrigued.
“Then let’s give him a win,” I say. “Or at least, let’s make him think he’s getting one.”
Alicia’s lips twitch into a faint smile, her first real sign of approval. “You’re crafty. I’ll give you that. What do you have in mind?”
I lean closer, my voice dropping slightly. “We work out an agreement that benefits both of us—but frame it in a way that makes Reeves feel like he’s the one in control. Something that keeps him off your back without putting your women at risk.”
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She taps her fingers against her arm, considering my words. “And what happens when he figures out he’s been played?”
“By the time he does, you’ll have fortified your position. And if we do this right, he’ll be too busy focusing on the next ‘opportunity’ to come back and press you.”
Alicia lets out a quiet laugh, shaking her head. “You’re either brave or crazy to think this’ll work.”
“Maybe both,” I reply, a small smile tugging at my lips. “But I’ve seen what Reeves is like. He’s more interested in appearances than substance. If we play into that, we can give him what he wants without giving up what matters.”
She nods slowly, her gaze sharpening. “Alright. Let’s talk specifics.”
Alicia leans forward, her elbows resting on her knees, as the faint murmurs of the Accord camp hum in the background. “Reeves wants to feel like he’s winning,” she says, her voice low, meant only for me. “If I give in too easily, he’ll see it as a weakness. If I push too hard, he’ll retaliate just to prove he can.”
I nod, my mind racing. She’s not wrong—Reeves doesn’t care about resolution; he cares about control. And right now, Alicia’s camp is his next move in the game. But this isn’t just about her people. It’s about setting a precedent, about keeping both our camps from becoming pawns.
“So, we make him think we’re not aligned,” I say, straightening. “Make him think you’re too stubborn to deal with. If we focus his attention on breaking you down, it gives me room to play the ‘rational mediator.’”
Alicia raises an eyebrow, the corner of her mouth twitching in dry amusement. “You want me to play the angry woman while you swoop in as the reasonable one?”
“Essentially,” I admit. “But it has to look real. We’re not just stalling; we’re setting him up to believe the pipeline project is his win.”
Her lips press into a thin line, and I see the calculation in her eyes. “You think that’ll be enough to keep him off my camp’s back?”
“It’s a start,” I reply. “If your people oversee sections of the pipeline near Branson’s camp, it gives you the autonomy you’re demanding while keeping Reeves distracted. He’ll see it as integrating your camp into his larger plans, not you strengthening your own position.”
Alicia exhales, her gaze drifting toward the distant outline of her camp. “It’s a risk,” she says finally. “Reeves doesn’t trust easily, especially when it comes to women.”
“That’s why it’ll work,” I counter. “He won’t expect us to pull this off because he doesn’t think we can. As long as we make it look like we’re stumbling our way to an agreement, he’ll believe he’s outmaneuvering us.”
She’s quiet for a moment, then nods. “Fine. But we need to sell this.”
The tent feels suffocating, the kind of air that sticks to your skin and makes it impossible to breathe deeply. Reeves leans back in his chair, his smirk ever-present, a quiet proclamation of how much he thinks he’s already won.
Across from him, Alicia sits like a statue, her arms crossed, her jaw locked tight. Every inch of her radiates defiance, a silent dare for Reeves to make a wrong move.
“I’m not budging,” she says, her voice sharp and unyielding. “Your men don’t belong near our camp. Full withdrawal is non-negotiable.”
Reeves snorts, shaking his head with that infuriating air of amusement he always carries. “Unbelievable. You think you can dictate terms to me? Those patrols are for your protection as much as mine.”
Alicia’s eyes narrow, her voice cutting through the room like a blade. “We don’t need your protection. What we need is for your men to stop treating our camp like their personal playground.”
The words hit hard, the kind that land with a thud you can’t ignore. For the first time, Reeves’s smirk falters slightly, the shift so small most wouldn’t catch it. But I do.
And so does Alicia.
“And what’s your solution, Sage?” Reeves finally says, his gaze sliding over to me like he’s throwing me a bone. “Surely you’re not as unreasonable as she is.”
I take a measured breath, holding his gaze evenly. “Alicia’s asking for autonomy, not a fight. But I understand your concerns about maintaining control.”
The corner of Reeves’s mouth twitches, the beginnings of a smug smile. He thinks I’m giving him ground. Good. Let him think that.
“Perhaps we can find a middle ground,” I add, my tone steady, diplomatic.
Reeves gestures lazily for me to continue, his smirk spreading wider like he’s already decided this meeting is a victory.
“The pipeline project,” I say, glancing between him and Alicia. “If her people assist with the work, it ensures collaboration without overstepping boundaries. They’d still be part of the larger effort but without the need for patrols near her camp.”
Reeves leans forward, steepling his fingers. “And what do I get out of it? A few extra hands? Doesn’t seem worth the trouble.”
Alicia scoffs, shaking her head, her voice biting. “You get progress. The pipeline benefits everyone, including your men. Or would you rather waste resources keeping them stationed near a camp that doesn’t want them there?”
Reeves doesn’t take the bait, but his smirk fades as his brow furrows, the wheels in his head turning. He doesn’t like the idea, but he’s considering it.
“I don’t trust this,” he says finally, leaning back in his chair. “You’re asking me to pull my men out without any guarantees. If something goes wrong, it’s my head on the line.”
“And that’s why we’ll meet again tomorrow,” I say smoothly, my voice calm, even as my heart pounds. “This isn’t about rushing into a solution. It’s about building one that works for everyone.”
Reeves narrows his eyes, clearly unimpressed but not entirely dismissive. “Fine. But you’d better come back with something worth my time.”
He stands abruptly, signaling the end of the meeting, and his men follow him out, their boots crunching against the dirt like the punctuation to his arrogance.
As soon as Reeves is gone, Alicia lets out a sharp exhale, her hands gripping the edge of the table so tightly her knuckles go white.
“He’s toying with us,” she mutters, her voice low and dangerous. “He doesn’t even care what happens as long as he’s the one holding the cards.”
“He’s testing us,” I correct, though her frustration mirrors my own. “But tomorrow, we’ll give him something he can’t refuse.”
Alicia glances at me, her skepticism clear in the sharpness of her gaze. “You think he’ll go for it?”
“He doesn’t have to,” I reply, my voice steadier than I feel. “He just has to think he won. And tomorrow, we’ll make sure he does.”
She leans back slightly, her lips pressing into a thin line. “You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that. But if this blows up—”
“It won’t,” I cut in, meeting her gaze with as much conviction as I can muster. “We both know Reeves is stretched thin. He needs this pipeline more than either of us, and he’s desperate enough to grasp at whatever looks like a victory.”
Alicia studies me for a long moment, then nods. “Alright. But don’t expect him to play fair.”
“I’m counting on it,” I say, though the weight of the next day presses heavily on my chest.
Because if I’m wrong—if we miscalculate just once—both our camps will pay the price.