Page 97 of Healing Conviction
He’d thought she blamed him for being kidnapped, when the thought had literally never crossed her mind. All this time, he’d been hurting, wondering how she’d felt about him, and she’d been too much of a coward to admit anything.
“Do you trust me, Pix?”
When he’d asked, she’d nodded without a second thought, that unerring truth shocking her more than anything in his cockamamie plan had. The plan that now had her by herself in the middle of a memory.
The fire was encroaching, heating only the front of her body and leaving the rest in the cooler air, making her confused and hurt body shiver. Her cheeks stung, and she reached up to swipe at the warm tear trails staining them. She pulled her hand away from her face and examined the dirt-covered smear, realizing only then that her glasses had miraculously survived, but the glass was quickly becoming hazy with smoke.
She would have to leave soon. Follow the plan. Trust that he’d meet her there, like he promised. A ragged sob escaped her, ending in a cough before she whispered to the flames.
“I trusted you, handsome. So where are you?”
A twig snapped.
Her head jerked up to see a large man, merely a shadowy outline from her glasses and blaze as he loomed over her. She craned her neck to see better, forcing another cough from her chest. Her voice was raspy as tears streamed like freaking rivers around the hopeful smile on her face.
“Drake?”
CHAPTERTHIRTY-NINE
Frigid pins stabbed every inch of Draco’s skin as he drifted.
How the fuck did I fucking forget how fucking cold water can fucking be? Fuck.
Bailing into the moat hadn’t been the ideal escape route, but being out of bullets, ideas, stamina, and time while three men shot at him had forced his hand.
Thankfully, coma or not, BUD/S training kicked in immediately, and he’d allowed the current to drag him under the bridge, holding his breath so the men above couldn’t see him down below. They’d stopped shooting into the water, at least. That either meant he’d lost them or they’d run out of bullets.
Just a little bit longer.
His little pixie should be safe for the next ninety seconds. She knew her way around in the dark forest better than the three men chasing them did. Or two men, if the guy he’d shot outside had succumbed to his injuries already. Unfortunately, the man still had the capacity to scream bloody murder, so it was likely more of a painful blow than a killing one. At least the two guys Draco had put down inside the warehouse weren’t going to get back up, so that gave Nora and him both more time to escape.
The water’s quiet stillness warred with his heartbeat throbbing in his ears. Judging by its cool temperature, the moat was no doubt filled by the nearby spring-fed river, and the unseasonably cold liquid pricked needles through his skin all the way to his nerve endings. Stale air began to feel heavy in his lungs. The urge to open his mouth nearly overrode every impulse.
If it hurts, I’m alive. Don’t panic. Think of Pix.
Nora. This was for her. So he could see her bite one of those sexy snake bite piercings as she analyzed a situation. Feel how soft she was inside and out when he rolled his body into hers. Encourage her when the corners of her eyes tipped down in desperation, obviously dying to feel, but too terrified to be vulnerable.
It was all for her.
A comforting numbness began to wash over him. The water became lukewarm rather than frigid. The ache in his lungs eased, and his tense muscles relaxed—
Oh shit, yup. Time to rise.
He pumped his legs and opened his eyes, hoping to see above him through the water, only to get darkness. It was risky, but he took the chance and surfaced blind. He fought against sucking in a breath, instead taking measured inhales and exhales despite his body screaming at him to do otherwise.
The night seemed quiet around him as he waded to the embankment on the forest side. When he got to the edge, he slowly rose out of the water, careful not to splash, and stopped with his hands on his knees, staying absolutely still as he collected his breath. He strained to hear past his pulse pounding in his ears.
After a few moments, his heart rate calmed down enough for him to pick up the heavy, careless, and obviously human steps rustling leaves in the distance.
Draco listened until his ears began to ring, trying to figure out how far away the man was—and whether he was alone—before finally entering the forest. His disoriented body tried to rebel as it came down from almost drowning and he concentrated on being cautious and silent, anything to avoid succumbing to the increasing need to take a shot and go to sleep.
Even his soft steps announced his movements like a megaphone. Water droplets crashed to the brush around him, and he stopped to remove his sopping shirt. The fabric would eventually stiffen up as it dried, causing him to chafe and dangerously restrict his movements. Getting rid of it saved him from a rash and potentially getting caught.
Even though the temperature was in the low sixties, he shivered thanks to the new, crisp air pinching his shirtless skin. He gingerly laid the bundle on the ground before getting his knife out of his back pocket and continuing toward camp. Every squishy, painful, crunchy step on the dry leaves in his wet shoes made his exhausted heart want to explode with anxiety.
A few dead ends, caused by dense low-hanging branches, led him to a skinny path going in the same direction. He followed it, thankful that the dirt was relatively clear from foliage and would aid him in being a silent shadow. The clumsy person he’d heard walking through the forest earlier had footsteps that were too heavy for Nora. While he wanted to go after them, he’d promised to meet her back at the campsite, so that was where he’d go first.
It was slow going, using one hand to help steady him while the other held his knife at the ready, but eventually he found the reflective tape high in the trees that signaled the beginning of his traps.