Chapter 15

chapter

fifteen

Sawyer ran his hands over her, checking for blood or broken bones.His heart was still lodged in his throat. He'd seen her fall. The moment the ground collapsed under her, his damaged brain had decided to kick into gear, and he'd seen the stark terror on her face. He'd seen her reach out a hand toward him. He'd lunged for her, but she was gone, and he couldn't see shit again. He'd heard her scream, a sound quickly swallowed by the rumbling earth. Then, silence.

Jesus, the silence had been excruciating.

His hands were trembling, but he managed to keep his voice steady. "Is anything broken?"

She hissed out a breath. "No, I don't think so."

He felt a warm wetness on the right side of the small of her back. Blood. She was bleeding, and something sharp jutted from her skin there. He ran a hand over her hip and belly, relief flooding him when he found nothing but soft, warm, unbroken skin.

Okay, so she hadn't been impaled, but whatever was sticking out of her back was going to be a problem. To get out of this hole, she needed to be able to wear the other harness.

Overhead, he heard Zelda's worried whine. "It's okay, girl," he called up to her. "Stay there. We're okay."

"She keeps looking through the hole," Lucy said. "Blocking out the light."

"Luckily, I don't need light to get us out of here." He tried to sound cheerful for her sake. "I'm like Batman. I do my best work in the dark."

Lucy snorted, then winced. "I'll just bet you do."

He could hear her smile in those words, and it eased his worry a fraction. "I could show you if you stopped denying how dynamite we'd be together in bed."

"Would you stop?" Her laugh echoed off the walls around them, bringing a small smile to his lips. "We're stuck in a pit, and you're still trying to flirt with me."

"Hey, if Batman can save Gotham while wooing women, I think I can do the same."

"Batman never really had time for women, though."

"Bruce Wayne did."

"Only to throw people off his scent so they wouldn't suspect him of being Batman. Bruce Wayne is the real mask."

He grinned. She really was his perfect woman. "I am so turned on right now."

"Your humor is seriously skewed, Murphy."

"That's why you love me."

There was a pause before she spoke again, this time her voice softer, more vulnerable. "Am I that transparent?"

Hope fluttered in Sawyer's chest. "Only to me."

"I'm not—" She seemed to struggle for words. "I can't—go there yet with you. But I know there's something between us and it—it scares me."

"I know. It's okay." He couldn't stop his smile. It didn't matter that she wasn't ready. As long as she wasn't closing the door on him, he would patiently wait on the other side for her to step through and join him. "Why don't we focus on getting you out of here?"

"That sounds like a good plan."

He ran his hands carefully over her legs, feeling the hard, muscular planes of her calves and thighs, tensed with pain but thankfully whole. The only injury seemed to be the one on her back. "I need you to hold still while I check out that gash on your back."

"Feels like I've been stabbed." She hissed at his touch, and he felt her trying to squirm away from him.

"Easy," he soothed, drawing his hand back momentarily. He gently ran his fingers down her spine again, wincing when she gasped as he nudged the shard. "I think… it's a piece of a branch."

"Can you take it out?"

He hesitated. "I can try, but we don't have anything to clean the wound."

"I'll take my chances," she muttered. "Just get it out. Quick."

He nodded and reached for the shard, his heart pounding in his ears as he grasped it in his hand. With a quick jerk, he pulled it free, and Lucy cried out in pain. He quickly pressed his hand against the wound, trying to staunch the flood of blood.

"Fuck." He fumbled at his waist, unhooking the water bottle from his belt and unscrewing the cap. He splashed some of the water on the wound, and Lucy hissed.

"Sorry," he murmured, but his focus was on the injury. He needed to bandage it up somehow. "Hold on a second."

He unzipped his backpack and rummaged around until he found his spare shirt. It was clean, at least. He tore it into strips and pressed them against the wound. Lucy winced, her breath hitching in her chest, but she didn't say anything.

"All right," he said, his voice barely more than a murmur. "I need to tie this in place. Can you sit up?"

Lucy pushed herself up onto her knees with a groan, leaning heavily against him so he could wrap the makeshift bandage around her midsection. He worked as quickly as he could, trying to ignore the way her body shivered against his, the chemical scent of her fear mixing with the earthy smell of dirt and sweat.

He tucked in the ends of the shirt and sat back on his heels. "Done."

Lucy took a shaky breath and then another. "Thanks," she said after a moment. Her voice had taken on a husky quality that set off alarm bells in his head.

He wrapped his arms around her and could feel the tension in her muscles, the way she was trying to keep herself from trembling. "You sure you're okay?"

"I'll live." She managed a small chuckle, grimacing as she shifted against him. "I'm not thrilled about the prospect of climbing out of here, though."

With a soft groan, she pushed herself to her feet. Her balance wavered momentarily, and Sawyer instinctively raised his hands to steady her. She flinched at his touch, sucking in a sharp breath through clenched teeth.

"Sorry." He lowered his hands, but stayed poised to catch her if she fell.

"I'm good," she replied far too quickly. "Just… give me a moment."

He wanted to give her forever. He'd spent the last few years sitting on the sidelines while each of his friends found love, and he'd always told himself that he was fine. He didn't need anything like the strong partnership of Zak and Anna, or the fireworks of Ash and Rose, or the sweet devotion of Donovan and Sasha, or the intimate camaraderie of Veronica and Connelly. He had Zelda and fulfilling work and he didn't need anything else.

But now he knew that was a lie.

When he found Lucy in that cave a year ago, something had shifted in him. He'd realized then he wanted what his friends had. He wanted someone to come home to, someone to laugh with, someone to hold onto at night when the nightmares became too much. And he wanted that someone to be Lucy. It was why he'd run from her all those months ago—he'd only told her a half-truth about his reason for leaving. Yes, he'd thought she needed to heal without the reminder of her ordeal hanging around, but he, too, had needed space. He'd cared too much, too fast for this brave, stubborn woman who could match him wit for wit and who saw through his bullshit better than anyone else ever had, and it had scared him.

But it didn't frighten him anymore.

He was done running, done denying himself.

Lucy Harper was his forever. He knew it with an unshakeable certainty that left him giddy.

But that definitely wasn't what she wanted to hear right now, so he backed up, giving her as much space as the cramped hole allowed, his ears tuned to any sign of distress from her. He could hear her breathing, rough and ragged, as she wrestled with the pain. He could only imagine how much it hurt and wished he could do more than just stand there and wait. But she didn't want him touching her, and until they were topside again, where the first aid kit waited in her bag, he couldn't do anything about the pain.

After what felt like an eternity, Lucy let out a shaky breath. "Okay. I think I can do this now."

He unclipped the second harness from his bag and held it out toward her voice. "This is going to hurt. The strap will rub right on the wound."

"Oh, goodie." She took the harness from him, her fingers brushing against his as she did so. Sawyer felt a jolt at the contact, and his instinct was to close his hand around hers, but he didn't. Right now, he needed to be strong for her, be her anchor in this chaos. He had to ignore the way his pulse raced and the way her touch made his heart thud in his chest.

"Just when I was thinking this wasn't quite painful enough." She let out a muffled groan as she slipped into the harness, clearly doing her best to smother the pain.

His hands closed around hers, helping her adjust the straps. He could feel her breath hitch, and he quickly withdrew his hands once more. They worked together, mostly in silence, as they secured the harnesses and prepared for the climb.

"Ready?"

Lucy shook her head. "No, but let's do this anyway."

They began their ascent with Sawyer leading the way. He reached out with his hand to feel for any stable footholds while Lucy followed closely behind. Every grunt, every gasp of pain made his heart clench.

She was magnificent. The strongest person he'd ever known.

He lost track of time as they climbed, each minute blending into the next, marked only by their ragged breaths. Finally, his fingers brushed against the cool dirt of the surface. He pulled himself up and over the edge, rolling onto his back and gasping for breath.

"Lucy?" he called out, reaching back over the edge, his hand finding hers.

"I'm... here," she panted. Her grip on his hand tightened as she hauled herself up, collapsing beside him. He heard a soft whimper escape her and he instinctively reached out, his hand finding hers. He gave it a reassuring squeeze, feeling her fingers close around his in response. They lay there for a few moments, both gasping for breath, the sun warm on their faces.

Zelda whined and bounded over to them, licking at their faces feverishly.

Sawyer laughed, pushing the excited dog away. "We're okay, girl. We're okay."

Beside him, Lucy let out a laugh, one of those raw, full-bodied laughs that comes after surviving something you weren't certain you'd survive. Despite her physical pain, there was joy in that sound. It was a victory cry of sorts. They'd made it out.

He rolled toward her, found her face with his hands, and crushed his lips to hers. Her lips parted in surprise, but she didn't push him away. Instead, she wound her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, her fingers threading through the hair at the nape of his neck. He could taste salt on her lips, could smell the scent of earth and sweat on her skin.

It was earth-shattering. It was life-affirming. It was everything he'd been denying himself for the past year.

When the kiss ended, they lay there for a while, foreheads pressed together, just breathing each other in.

"I'm glad you came for me," Lucy whispered.

"I always will."

With his hands still cupping her cheeks, he felt the smile curve her lips. "What? No sexual innuendo this time? I left you a perfect opening."

"I'm trying to be a gentleman here, Harper. I can stop if you want."

"No," she murmured. "I think I like this Sawyer, too."

He tightened his arms around her, pulling her closer against him until there was no space left between them. He could feel every inch of her, the heat of her seeping into him even through their clothes.

"And what about the Sawyer who loves you?" he asked softly, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face.

There was a moment of silence as Lucy stilled in his arms. He felt her stiffen and for one heart-stopping moment, he thought he might have pushed too far too soon.

His heart sank. She was going to protest. She'd tell him he couldn't possibly love her, tell him that it was just the adrenaline talking...

But instead, she let out a shaky breath and relaxed against him again. "I… I don't know how I feel about him yet," she admitted hesitantly. "But I think I'm willing to find out."

Zelda chose that moment to nose between them.

Sawyer sighed, patting the dog's head. "Zelda," he said with exaggerated seriousness, "you are the absolute worst third wheel."

"At least she's cute," Lucy said.

"That she is." He lifted himself to his hands and knees and pulled Lucy up to sit with him. He could feel her wince as she moved, but she didn't protest. Her fingers were trembling slightly when she brushed them against his cheek, and he thought of the pain she must be in and how bravely she was hiding it. "Let's find stable ground to make camp and get you properly bandaged up."