Chapter 14

chapter

fourteen

She wasn't ignoring him...

Exactly.

Lucy just needed space. Space to breathe, space to think. Because God, did she need to think. The intensity of her desire for Sawyer was like a physical force, dragging her under its relentless wave. He made her feel things she didn't understand, things she had never felt before. Things she wasn't sure she wanted to feel.

As they trudged through the dense forest toward the cell tower, she kept her eyes on the path in front of her, refusing to look at Sawyer. She didn't trust herself not to turn around and throw herself into his waiting arms.

The ground beneath her was uneven, the foliage thick. She could hear the distant rush of water, a river or a stream, perhaps. She could hear him and Zelda, too, their steady footfalls just calmly following behind her. The silence was heavy, taut like a wire on the verge of snapping.

Dammit, she was a coward.

She was usually the kind of woman who faced everything head-on. She'd learned in the hardest possible way that the only person who would always stand up for her was her. She didn't hide or run away from her problems… unless they involved a six- foot-two blind tech genius with the body of a Greek god and a penchant for innuendos and pushing buttons. Apparently.

Damn Sawyer Murphy and his ability to get under her skin. She'd sworn off men a long time ago, and they were in the middle of a life-or-death situation. The last thing she should be doing was entertaining fantasies about that sexy body of his and the long, hard cock she'd felt pressed up against her belly in that pool. But here she was, all but whimpering at the memory of it, her panties soaked with want, her skin flushing hot.

If not for Zelda's well-timed interruption, she would've begged him to fill the empty ache between her legs and fuck the nightmares and fears away. She would've lost herself completely in him, and, God, she wasn't ready for that. She wasn't ready for the cracks in her armor it would cause, or the breach in her heart Sawyer seemed so determined to make.

The silence between them was deafening, the tension almost palpable. She wanted to break it, to say something—anything—just to fill the void. But words, it seemed, had abandoned her.

Sawyer broke the silence first. "Lucy, talk to me." His voice was soft, pleading. The undercurrent of worry was unmistakable. "What happened back there?"

"I…" Her voice caught in her throat. She couldn't let him know about the whirlwind of emotions raging through her. Couldn't let him see her vulnerability, her uncertainty. So, she settled for a diversion. "We've gone a couple of miles. We should check the phones. Maybe we're close enough for a signal."

Sawyer's silence was loud in her ears. She didn't have to look at him to know he was angry and confused and maybe a little bit hurt.

But instead of responding with fury or frustration, he replied with a calm, "Sure, it's worth a try."

Sawyer reached into his pocket and pulled out a phone. He extended his arm, waiting for her to take it. She crossed the few steps between them to collect the device from his outstretched hand. As her fingers brushed against his, the brief touch was like a spark of electricity shooting through her.

She quickly pulled away and examined the screen, looking for any sign of bars indicating network reception. She swiped her thumb across the glass surface, but no matter how hard she willed it, the No Service indication wouldn't go away. She tried her phone next and got more of the same. None of the phones they had were working.

"No signal yet." She tried to keep the disappointment from edging into her voice. "Let's keep moving."

Sawyer nodded, his jaw tight. "Right," he said, his tone flat and distant.

Suddenly, the ground beneath them began to tremble, a rumbling sound resonating from deep inside the earth. Her heart slammed against her ribs as she realized what was happening.

Aftershock.

"Get down!" Sawyer called. "Shield your head."

She crouched down... and the ground opened up under her feet. She was falling before she had a chance to scream, the world around her blurring as she descended into darkness. She hit the bottom of the hole hard, the air rushing out of her lungs in a painful whoosh. She gasped for breath as the world spun around her. She tried to blink away spots from her vision.

"Lucy!" Sawyer's voice echoed down to her. She could see him leaning through the hole way overhead, his ear turned toward her, listening. "Jesus. Lucy! Answer me!"

She opened her mouth to tell him that she was fine even though every fiber of her body protested against the idea. She was not fine. She was in pain. She was in the dark, with only a small shaft of light filtering down through the hole. And she was scared.

Just like the cave.

Except she wasn't in a cave.

And the Shadow Stalker was dead.

"I'm… I'm here," she managed to croak out between labored breaths. She bit down hard on her bottom lip, struggling to push herself upright despite the wave of pain that radiated through her. "I'm in some kind of… sinkhole."

"Are you okay?"

She forced a laugh, painful as it was. "Define okay."

"Can you move?"

She tested her limbs. "Yeah, I can."

He exhaled hard like he'd been holding his breath. "Hold on. I'm coming down."

"No!" Panic burst through her in a white-hot rush, drowning out the pain. There was no way a sighted person could climb down without risking a potentially fatal fall, much less a blind one. The last thing they needed was for him to get injured, too. "Sawyer, please, stay there. It's too dangerous. I'll find a way back up to you."

"The hell I will. You're hurt. I can hear it in your voice."

It was typical of him, she thought, to try and be the hero even when he was at a clear disadvantage. It was in his nature to be protective, to rush into danger without a second thought for himself. "We don't need you hurt, too."

"Would you just trust me for once?" There was a note of frustration in Sawyer's voice that she rarely heard. "I'm not helpless."

"I never said you were. But?—"

"Do you trust me or not?"

Lucy sucked in a painful breath. The shadows felt like they were creeping in around her, and panic sizzled through her. She was back in the cave, the damp walls closing in around her. Trapped. Alone. Helpless. The memory of the Shadow Stalker's cruel laugh as he left her to die echoed in her ears.

No, she wasn't alone. Sawyer was there. He was always there when she needed him.

"Lucy?"

She swallowed back the fear. "I trust you."

"Good. Because I need you to stay calm and guide me down to you."

There was a rustling noise from above, then rocks tumbled through the hole. She instinctively covered her head with her arms as pebbles pelted down around her. There was a loud grunt and then a thud followed by a stream of soft profanities.

She still couldn't see him.

"Sawyer?" she called, struggling to push herself into a seated position. Ignoring the throbbing pain in her side and the threatening darkness at the edges of her vision, she strained her ears for his response.

"I'm fine," he grunted. "Just a small... hiccup."

Then there he was, his body blocking out the sunlight for a moment as he lowered himself through the hole. A warm wave of reassurance washed over her at his nearness. His dogged obstinance might have been infuriating, but it was also comforting.

She could always count on Sawyer to be Sawyer.

Suddenly, the sound of a soft thump echoed through the cavern.

"Shit," he muttered, his voice now much closer than before. Then something fell and landed in a heap a few feet away from her. There was silence, and for a heart-stopping moment, Lucy thought he had fallen.

"Sawyer!"

"Hang on, hang on. I hit a ledge. Jesus. Did you hit this thing in the fall?"

She honestly had no idea—it all happened so fast—but going by the aches and pains blooming all over her body, she wouldn't doubt it. "Please be careful."

More cursing. Then he appeared over the edge of the rock overhang above her, rappelling down while strapped into the climbing harness Grant had given her. Her breath rushed out of her in relief. He wasn't climbing blindly down to her, after all. She'd completely forgotten about the harness and ropes attached to her pack.

"Keep talking," he said. "I need to hear where you are."

She shifted and winced as pain lanced through her side again. "What do you want me to say?"

"Well, you could start by telling me why you pulled away earlier at the waterfall. You were running so hot. You wanted me as much as I want you. What made you suddenly turn so cold?"

He would go there right now. "No."

"Are you going to make me guess?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Was it because of The Shadow Stalker? Do I remind you of what he did?"

Just the mention of the name sent a chill scraping down her spine. "Please. I can't do this. Not right now."

"I will get you to open up to me, Luce," he said and continued descending carefully, his boots scraping against the rock every time he pushed off the wall. "And we are going to finish what we started at the waterfall."

She couldn't tell if that was a warning or a promise. She didn't know which she wanted it to be.

"Okay, fine," he said when she remained silent. "Then tell me about your first kiss. No, wait. I don't want to hear about that. Your favorite color. Your favorite food. Your favorite holiday. When did you know you wanted to be a park ranger? Tell me everything about you. Just keep talking."

This, she could handle. She opened her mouth to tell him her favorite color was green, and she'd decided she wanted to be a park ranger when she was ten after visiting the redwoods during one of the few vacations she'd taken before her parents divorced. They'd fought the entire time, but for once, she hadn't cared because the trees had captured her imagination. For a girl who had grown up in the flat farmlands of Ohio, they'd seemed almost magical, and she'd wanted to stay among them forever.

But instead of any of that, she blurted, "I was married once."

Sawyer's steady descent halted abruptly, his body swaying slightly in the air, blocking out the small shaft of light from above. Even though she couldn't see his face, she imagined the surprise registering in his pale blue eyes.

"You were… what?" His voice echoed off the rocky walls.

"I was married." The words tasted strange in her mouth, foreign and uncomfortable. They were true, but they were also a secret she'd buried deep within herself, tangled up with guilt and regret.

There was a pause before he started moving again. "What happened?"

God, why had she opened her mouth?

"Lucy," he said softly. "I need you to talk to me."

"I was young and naive," she began, hating the vulnerability and pain she heard in her voice. "He was older and said all the right things. I thought I was in love. I guess I didn't really understand what that meant. I put all of my dreams on hold for him, gave up a lot of myself. I didn't realize until it was too late what kind of man he really was, and by then, I was trapped, couldn't get out. He hurt me. A lot." She exhaled in a shaky rush. "Seems like men are always trying to fucking trap me. In an abusive marriage. In a cave. I refuse to fall into yet another one."

Sawyer stilled again, suspended above her like a rugged angel in the darkness. "Lucy, I'm not a trap. I would never cage you. If I could, I'd give you wings and watch you soar. You deserve it."

"You say that now, but the moment I sleep with you, that will change." She regretted her harsh tone as soon as the words left her mouth. She felt vulnerable and raw in a way she hadn't felt for a long time, and he didn't deserve to have it taken out on him. "I'm... I'm sorry. That came out wrong."

It felt like an eternity before he responded. "You've got this shield around you, and now I get why. But, someday, I hope you'll trust me enough to let it down. Just a little." Suddenly, he was there beside her in the dark, his hands tracing over her body before cupping her face. "I will never hurt you. I'd rather die than cause you a second's pain. And while I can't promise that I won't ever fuck up, I can promise you this: I will fight for you and protect you with everything I have." He wiped away her tears with his thumbs. She hadn't even realized she was crying until that moment. "If you give me a chance."

She said nothing, couldn't squeeze any words past the lump in her throat, and leaned into his touch. There was a comfort to his presence, a warmth that she couldn't ignore. But it also felt like Collins all over again—he'd been full of sweet words and charming smiles, and all of it had been nothing but empty promises.

Yet, she couldn't deny there was something different about Sawyer. A genuineness that radiated from him. He'd been there once before when she needed help.

But if she gave him her heart, could she trust him not to hurt her? Trust him to keep his promise?

"You don't have to say anything or make any decisions now," he said, releasing his hold on her face and shifting away slightly to pull something off his back. "We've got more pressing things to handle at the moment."

She almost laughed at that. How could he so easily compartmentalize things? One moment, he was baring his soul to her, and the next, he was back to problem-solving mode. But then again, that was Sawyer. Steady as a rock, unflinching in the face of danger, and fiercely protective. He made her feel like she mattered, like she was someone worth fighting for. And that was something her ex-husband never did. He'd never cared enough to fight for her.

So why was she measuring Sawyer against that bastard?

Right. She wasn't going to figure this out now. They had a tower to get to, and she had a hole to climb out of.

"All right," she said, her voice steadier than she felt. "Let's get out of here."