Page 10

CHAPTER 10

Sienna

“Pickle!” Sienna whisper-shouted into the darkness, but her voice echoed back to her, high-pitched and terrified.

Where the hell is he? The one time I need him to be the clingy mutt he usually is, and he decides to be Mr. Explorer.

With trembling fingers, she felt along the curved wall, trying to orient herself in the absolute blackout. The stone caught at her fingertips, rough and weirdly warm.

“Pickle. Come! Please . . . Here, boy.” Forcing cheerfulness in her voice made her head spin.

I should be helping Rusty. And Soda. I should be ? —

A gunshot cracked through the tunnel like thunder, slamming into her eardrums and scaring the crap out of her. Her knees buckled before her brain could process where the shot had come from, and gripping the wall, she dropped to a crouch.

“No, please—” A man’s cry was cut off by another shot that rebounded off the stone walls in a deafening cascade.

“Get off me, you fucking—” A meaty thud echoed to her, followed by the sound of bodies slamming against stone.

Rusty!

Soda’s deep growl rumbled through the darkness like distant thunder, and her heart jackhammered against her ribs.

“You son of a—” The words dissolved into a wet gurgle.

Oh God!

“I’ll fucking kill you!” someone snarled, raw and wild, but it was cut off by a crunching sound like knuckles connecting with a jaw.

Every cry and grunt of pain twisted her stomach into knots. It was impossible to process the overlapping echoes as they bounced off the tunnel walls. She pushed herself up from her crouch, one hand still pressed against the wall, and forced her legs to keep her upright.

Her ragged breathing joined the brutal chorus as she bit her lip until she tasted copper, trying to keep quiet.

Then, a deathly silence filtered through the darkness. It was weird, unnatural. Terrifying.

Oh God, Rusty . . . please be okay.

She couldn’t decide whether to run to him or the opposite way.

The image of Rusty’s gentle smile flashed through her mind—the way it always started in his eyes before touching his lips, the way it made her feel like maybe the world wasn’t such a broken place after all. Then her traitorous brain replaced it with a vision of him lying broken and bloody in the darkness, and the pain carved chunks from her heart, destroying everything that mattered all over again.

Two more shots boomed through the air, controlled and lethal. Or was that three?

She was trapped in a nightmare of sound and darkness so absolute it consumed even the shadows. The void pressed against her eyeballs, making them ache with the futile effort to find light where none existed.

The silence crushed against her eardrums and the suffocating weight made the previous violence seem tame. Her own heartbeat became deafening.

Oh God. Rusty . . . please be okay.

The prayer echoed in her head in a desperate loop.

She hugged her knees to her chest, straining to hear anything—Rusty’s voice, Soda’s bark, even Pickle’s tapping toenails. There was nothing but the darkness that stretched forever around her.

The crunch of boots on gravel made her freeze. Footsteps thundered closer, accompanied by labored breathing.

Her heart slammed against her ribs and the darkness pressed in, absolute and suffocating until even her practiced breathing techniques—the ones that had saved her through countless panic attacks—crumbled against raw terror.

She pressed deeper into the wall, wishing she could slip through it like a ghost.

Her sneaker scraped against loose gravel, and the sound was shockingly loud. Fight or flight protocols screamed through her brain, but there was nowhere to run and nowhere to hide, and as terror clawed up her throat the rational part of her mind cataloged options.

She only had one . . . to fight like hell.

A beam of light pierced the tunnel behind her, swaying with each step of its unseen bearer. The sudden illumination was as blinding as the darkness had been. Sienna clenched her fists, preparing to put up the fight of her life. Her body was weak with hunger and exhaustion, but she’d been caught in a deadly situation before, and she hated how little she’d fought back then.

Not this time. She hadn’t spent countless hours learning self-defense just to freeze up now. She’d trained for this. Her muscles remembered every lesson, every bruise, every victory.

I am not a scared, naive woman anymore, frozen against a wall.

I’m brave. I’m strong. I am fast.

And I’m so fucking angry, I’m going to rip your ear off with my teeth.

Bring it on, asshole!

She raised her hands slowly, spreading her fingers in mock surrender and forcing her body to shift into the self-defense stance that had been drilled into her over and over. The light grew brighter and closer, bringing with it the sound of boots on stone and—was that a whimper?

Pickle? Soda?

“Rusty?” she whispered with hope and terror clashing in her chest.

The beam of light swung directly into her face.

“Sienna!” Rusty’s voice cut through the darkness.

Her legs went to rubber as relief washed through her like a power surge. She stumbled forward, barely registering Soda’s excited bark as she slammed into Rusty’s chest. His arms came around her, holding her to his chest, strong and steady.

As she sucked in a massive breath, her composure shattered, and she burst into tears. Her body shook against his chest as a dozen emotions crashed through her at once.

Rusty hugged her tighter and his embrace was both achingly familiar and yet somehow different.

Her sobs echoed off the tunnel walls, raw and broken.

“Hey, it’s over now.” He held her tighter, one hand cradling the back of her neck as his chest rose and fell against her cheek in a rhythm that slowly began to calm her racing heart.

“I thought you . . . you—” She couldn’t get the words out.

Soda whined, pressing against their legs, picking up her distress.

She gripped Rusty tighter, needing to verify he was real, solid, and alive, and he winced slightly. She pulled back enough to see his face in the flashlight’s glow. Blood streaked his cheek, dark and accusing. “You’re hurt!”

“I’m fine. Are you okay?”

Her chin quivered as she nodded.

“Where’s Pickle?”

“I lost him.” Tears spilled down her cheeks, and she flicked them away.

“Shit.” He scanned the flashlight into the darkness ahead of them.

“He jumped from my arms and disappeared. I couldn’t see anything. I couldn’t find him. I?—”

“Hey, hey.” Rusty’s voice softened as he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering against her skin. That simple touch—so gentle after all the violence—cracked something deep inside her.

“We’ll find him, Sienna. I promise he’ll be okay.”

She nodded against his chest, desperately wanting to believe him. Questions about the attackers, the gunshots, and their safety burned in her throat. But she couldn’t voice them. Not yet.

Not when this moment felt so fragile.

Instead, she held onto him, letting his strength anchor her. Something fundamental had shifted between them in this darkness, and years of uncertainty crumbled away like old stone.

For the first time since she’d found Paige’s lifeless body, hope flickered through her like a precious flame.

“Is Soda okay?” Her voice wavered, and she sucked in a steadying breath.

“She’s fine. She’s a tough girl.” Pride radiated in his voice. “Don’t worry. She’ll help us find Pickle. Her nose is better than any flashlight.”

“So what do we do now?” Her voice barely rose above a whisper.

“Those men had to come from somewhere in these tunnels. When we find their entry point, we might find Pickle, too.” His fingers threaded through hers, calloused and sure, and the simple touch sent awareness cascading through her body. This wasn’t the Rusty she remembered—the young, unsure man who’d once stumbled over his words and blushed when he’d seen her in her bikini on the beach for the first time.

That Rusty had faded like an old photograph. In his place was a man whose strength radiated even in dim light, whose hands now spoke of purpose instead of uncertainty. The way he’d thrown himself between her and danger without hesitation and the controlled power in his movements—everything about him had crystallized into something both familiar and thrillingly unknown.

And that realization sparked something dangerous in her mind . . . I’m falling for him all over again.

Using the flashlight that he must have taken from those men, he swept quick arcs of light across the curved floor, and as they walked, Soda led the way with her nose to the ground.

“Pickle!” Sienna called ahead every few minutes, but each time, silence swallowed her voice, and her chest constricted tighter. She couldn’t stop seeing the pure joy on Aunty Dee’s face when she’d first introduced Sienna to the wriggling ball of fur who’d brought light back into her life after Uncle Charlie’s death. That stupid, precious dog had saved her aunt from drowning in grief. The thought of having to tell Aunty Dee that she’d lost him twisted Sienna’s stomach into knots.

God, how would I tell her I ? —

No. I can’t think like that.

Rusty’s thumb brushed across her knuckles as if he sensed her spiraling thoughts, and her breath hitched at how much that simple gesture grounded her, just like it had all those years ago.

“What the hell?” Rusty’s beam caught something unnatural against the volcanic stone floor. He released her hand, dropping into a crouch. His light traced a thick black cable that wound along the tunnel floor like a sleeping snake and disappeared into the darkness ahead. They followed its path with Soda sniffing the ground with renewed intensity. Rusty’s light swept across something in the shadows, and they halted.

Carved into the ancient lava flow, with an outline that was barely visible against the rough stone, was a secret door.

“Holy shit!” Rusty said.

“What is this place?” Sienna’s voice died in her throat.

Rusty’s eyes flared. “I have no fucking idea, but we’re about to find out.”