Chapter 27

chapter

twenty-seven

Sawyer sat in the cramped backseat of Zak's truck, jammed between Donovan and Connelly, his hands loosely bound in front of him with a zip tie. When the time came, he'd be able to break free.

"Remember to put on a show," Donovan murmured. "If we were really betraying Pierce, he wouldn't go easily."

"I know it." His throat tightened.

Pierce had been missing for nearly a week now and nobody knew why, or where he'd gone, but Sawyer wanted to assume his friend had a good reason for disappearing. Pierce was… complicated, and often made decisions that were hard for others to understand.

But now those decisions had put them all in danger. Had put Lucy in danger, and Sawyer didn't know if he'd ever be able to forgive Pierce for it.

If Pierce was even still alive.

"This is all so fucked up," Connelly said.

"That coming from the horror writer," Donovan said, a grim laugh rumbling in his throat. "You couldn't make this shit up."

"Wouldn't want to," Conn muttered. "I'm seriously considering a career change. Maybe children's books."

"Yeah, well, let's just hope the ending is happier than some of your plots," Zak said from the driver's seat.

There was a shared silence, then a collective inhale as the truck pulled off the highway onto a rutted, dirt road. Coordinates had arrived in another message, and they pointed to an abandoned mill deep in the heart of the redwood forest. The place had a history of fires and accidents, which had eventually led to its closure—just the sort of eerie backdrop that fell neatly into Sawyer's nightmares. A perfect setting for a horror story, not a rescue mission.

"Game faces on," Zak said.

Sawyer nodded, his heart pounding hard in his chest. His palms were sweaty against the zip tie, and he told himself it was the cheap material, not fear. He was going into the lion's den blind, and God knew if he'd come out of it alive.

But it didn't matter, as long as Lucy and Anna survived.

The truck pulled to a stop outside the mill, and Sawyer was immediately shoved out of the vehicle without preamble or warning. Donovan's big hand was rough on his arm, and he fought against it, making it look good.

A punch to his gut had him doubling over, breathless. The sharp pain was real, and it took a moment for him to recover.

"Easy," he hissed.

"Gotta make it look good," Zak said through his teeth.

Yeah, that was more than for show. Zak was pissed he'd dragged Anna into this. Rightly so, but… Jesus. His body was still one giant bruise, his knee singing with every step.

Someone shoved him and he stumbled forward, landing hard on his knees in the dirt. He felt the barrel of a gun press against his temple and although he'd been expecting it, fear still coursed through him, sharp and cold. He closed his eyes, drew in a slow breath, trying to keep his calm.

"Bring the women out," Zak called, his voice hard as steel. "Or we kill him."

A moment of tense silence followed his words, stretching until it seemed almost unbearable. Then, the heavy sound of a door being thrown open echoed through the night and Sawyer heard the soft rustle of movement. His heart hammered in his chest as he counted the beats of silence—one, two, three...

Footsteps approached, crunching against gravel and straw. He heard Lucy's sharp intake of breath, followed by a soft sob, and something in him went cold and heavy.

They were hurting her.

He curled his hand around the knife hidden at his waistband and waited.

"We can be civil about this," Theodore said even as Bea shoved Lucy and Anna to their knees in front of the men of Redwood Coast Rescue. "It doesn't have to end badly."

Lucy stared at the men. Donovan, Connelly, and the sheriff flanked Zak, who was holding a gun to?—

Her breath caught in her throat.

God. That was Sawyer. She knew it even with the hood over his head. She'd recognize him anywhere, any time. She'd know him from the way he held himself, the set of his shoulders, the faint scar on his left hand visible even in the dim light of dawn.

She blinked back tears, lips pressed into a thin line to stop herself from crying out.

He was here.

She didn't know whether to be relieved or horrified.

Once again, he was throwing himself into harm's way.

"Now, don't do anything rash, and we can all walk away from this." Theodore adjusted his glasses nervously, his eyes darting to Bea, who stood tall and menacing by his side, a gun in each hand, pointed to the backs of Lucy's and Anna's heads. "All we want is Pierce."

"Yeah," Zak called out, his voice echoing around the hollowed-out mill. "We're all real civil here, Theodore. Now, let's get those girls walking, and you can have him."

Lucy's eyes flicked to Sawyer. Was that the plan? To swap Sawyer for her and Anna, in hopes the captors wouldn't realize they'd been duped until it was too late? If so, it was a plan she found horrifyingly terrifying and incredibly brave.

Theodore shook his head. "Once we have Pierce, we'll let your women go."

"No," Zak growled. "They walk first."

A tense silence fell over the group. Lucy glanced at Anna, who was looking straight ahead, a determined set to her mouth. Her hands were shaking slightly but her eyes were steady and hard. She was just as tough as her husband, but it was a quiet kind of strength.

Lucy's gaze went back to Sawyer. His head was bowed beneath the hood, but she knew he was aware of everything, every move, every whisper. His body was taut as a bowstring, and she could almost feel the tension radiating off him.

Suddenly, the butt of Bea's gun hit Lucy sharply in the back of her shoulder, and she let out a gasp of surprise and pain. "Unless you want me to put a bullet in their pretty little heads, I suggest you hand him over."

Lucy's hands curled into fits at her sides as fury blasted through her, burning away the fear and pain.

She. Was. Not. A. Victim.

"I liked you, Bea," she said, keeping her voice soft and scared. "I liked both of you."

"That was your mistake," Bea said.

"Why are you doing this to us?"

"Shut up." Bea raised the gun as if to hit her again. She didn't give the woman the chance. She reared back, knocking the top of her head into Bea's face.

It hurt.

God, it hurt, and she immediately bent forward, dry-heaving from the pain of it.

Chaos erupted.

Bea stumbled backwards from the blow, and at the same time, Anna shoved Theodore toward the men. Sawyer broke free of the zip ties around his wrists and slammed into Theodore, a knife flashing in the pale dawn light an instant before it plunged unerringly into Theodore's throat.

Theodore fell to the ground with a gurgle, his hands clutching at his neck as blood bubbled up around the blade.

"Your mistake," Sawyer said, his voice quiet, deadly, "was thinking we'd ever betray our friend." Then he pulled the knife free, and Theodore spluttered, blood spraying from his mouth with each struggling breath.

"Anna!" Zak's shout was raw, full of fear.

Anna scrambled to her feet and launched herself into his arms. He gave her one hard kiss, then pushed her toward Ash, who whisked her over to their waiting car as the men converged on Bea, weapons raised.

"It's over," Donovan said.

"No, it's not." She smiled, blood leaking down her face from her broken nose. "More will come." Then she raised her gun to her chin and pulled the trigger.

Lucy flinched at the gunshot and averted her gaze as the men all swore. She didn't want to see it. She crawled over to where Sawyer still knelt next to Theodore's body.

"Sawyer—" A sob choked off her words.

He reached out, hands swiping through the air until he found her. He yanked her into his arms with blood-stained hands and held her tight. "Shh, I got you."

Lucy gripped him back, her fingers digging into his jacket as she fought to control the nauseating swirl of fear and relief that threatened to devour her. Her face pressed against his chest, desperate to block out the horrific memory of Theodore's death and Bea's suicide.

The men moved in the flurry of activity around them. Ash had his phone out, barking orders into it, while Connelly was trying to save Bea for some unknown reason. As far as Lucy was concerned, the woman could rot in hell.

Zak strode over to the truck and pulled his wife out of the seat into his arms. He held her tight, kissing her repeatedly while she tried to assure him she was okay.

That was love.

There was so much love between Zak and Anna, it almost hurt to look at.

Did Sawyer love her like that?

Was she ready for a love like that? Sure, it sounded pretty, but

Lucy drew back and realized Sawyer still wore the hood over his head. She carefully pulled it off and found his pale eyes streaming tears.

"Oh God, Luce," he whispered hoarsely, his fingers moving to cradle her face. "I thought I'd lost you."

"You…" Her voice came out raw, and she swallowed hard. "Why do you keep throwing yourself into danger for me?"

His hands stilled on her cheeks. "Because I love you," he murmured, almost as if the words were torn from him by force. "And there's no danger in the world that could keep me away from you."

Tears welled up in her eyes, flowing over and making tracks in the dirt on her cheeks. She grasped his wrist, lowering his hand from her face as she stepped back. He tried to follow, but she held him back with a firm hand on his chest.

"Sawyer," she said, her voice shaky. "You… you can't."

"Can't what?" he whispered. "I can't love you? Too late for that."

"No," she said, shaking her head. "You can't keep risking your life for me. I don't want you to."

"Luce—" He reached for her, but she backed away, leaving his hand to meet only air.

His pale eyes clouded with confusion and hurt. Then the confusion gave way to understanding and his eyes widened in disbelief before they hardened into something akin to resignation. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. A haunted look crossed his features and she hated that she'd put that look on his face.

She turned around, walking briskly toward Ash. She didn't look back. She didn't want to see him standing there, all alone. She didn't want to see the pain in his eyes or the way his shoulders slumped in defeat.

Ash looked up from his phone call and frowned. "What's wrong?" Then his gaze went to Sawyer and his frown softened into understanding, but he didn't comment.

She blinked back the sudden flood of tears. "Can I go home?"

"No," he said and waved to one of his deputies, who had just pulled up. "But Delgado will take you back to the hospital and guard you."

"Hi, I'm Izzy," the woman deputy said and gently wrapped an arm around her. "How about we get you out of here?"

As Izzy bundled her into the front seat of the patrol car, she couldn't help but spare a glance at Sawyer.

He looked like his entire world had just crashed down around him. But this was for the best, she told herself. He would keep throwing himself between her and the world and it would eventually get him killed.

And she'd rather live in a world without Sawyer's love than a world without Sawyer in it at all.

"Ready?" Izzy asked, sliding in behind the wheel.

Lucy tore her gaze away from him and leaned back in the seat, closing her eyes. "Yes. Let's go."