Page 6

CHAPTER 6

Sienna

Consciousness arrived in disjointed fragments, darkness, the flashes of light, nausea rolling through her stomach, and a steady motion.

Am I being carried?

Memories skittered just out of reach like spooked cats, refusing to be caught.

Am I upside down? Her forehead connected with something solid as she tried to orient herself. Is that someone’s ass?

Reality shuffled into place like a deck of cards: the gunfire, running, her foot catching on something, the sickening moment of freefall.

Oh fuck!

One of the killers has me.

Terror clawed up her throat and exploded into a scream. She thrashed against the iron grip, punching solid muscle as she fought with all the strength she had. “Let me go! Help!”

“Sienna, hey, it’s okay.” The voice cut through her fear, gentle, familiar, completely at odds with the mental image of the murderer she thought had her. Strong hands lowered her down, carefully setting her on her feet. “You’re safe.”

She blinked at the broad shoulders she could barely see in what little light filtered through the darkness. “Rusty?” The name came out small, uncertain.

“Yes. I’m here.” His hand hovered near her shoulder, steadying but not quite touching. “You had a fall and bumped your head pretty hard.”

Her fingers found tacky wetness in her hair, and she winced at the egg forming on the side of her skull. “Where are we?”

“Do you remember what happened?” Light caught in his pale green eyes, and something about that worried look tugged at her memory.

“I remember some bastards shooting at us.”

He huffed out a short laugh. “Yeah. Fuckers.”

“I fell into this lava tube, didn’t I?”

He nodded, scraping thick fingers through his ginger hair. The movement made his bicep flex, and she definitely didn’t notice. “I jumped in after you.”

“You . . .” The words took a moment to process. “You jumped in after me?” Recall slammed back like a freight train. “Oh God—Pickle!” She jerked to look around, then regretted it as pain exploded behind her eyes. “Is he?—?”

“He’s fine. I had to throw him into the lava tube after your fall , and your back broke his fall.” Rusty scrunched his nose. “Sorry about that.”

Claws clicked against stone, and the little terrier emerged from the darkness.

“Pickle. There you are.” She picked him up and crushed him against her chest, breathing in his warm, alive smell. “Thank God.”

She met Rusty’s eyes. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, well, don’t thank me yet.”

“Wait! Soda? I heard her yelp. Was she shot?”

Rusty’s whistle bounced off the volcanic walls like a whipcrack. Soda materialized from the shadows, settling beside him with military precision. He brushed her shoulder, then traced a hole in her tactical vest. “She’s okay. Thank Christ she had her Kevlar on.”

Her stomach lurched. “Jesus. She could have been killed.”

“She’s fine. Aren’t you, girl?”

Soda’s dark eyes met Rusty’s, and Sienna’s breath caught at the connection between them. She’d never seen that level of trust and understanding pass between any two beings, let alone a human and a dog. Not that she could blame Soda. If she had to pick someone to look at with that level of devotion, a man as handsome as Rusty wouldn’t be a struggle.

The beam of Rusty’s phone flashlight carved through the darkness, revealing obsidian walls that stretched deep into blackness and vanished in both directions. Adding to her throbbing head, fear inched in. Since that horrid situation at last year’s Christmas party, she always made a point of knowing where the exits were. “Any idea where we are?”

“In the biggest lava tube I’ve ever seen.” His voice bounced off the glassy surfaces. “These things snake under the whole island like subway tunnels. God knows where this one ends up.”

She put Pickle down and he trotted to the curved wall, and her cheeks heated as he lifted his leg. Her bladder twinged as if jealous of her dog. Perfect, yet another problem she hadn’t considered.

The tunnel gaped before them as wide as a highway. “And how do we get out?”

“How the hell should I know?” The edge in his voice made both dogs’ heads snap up. He scrubbed a hand over his face, exhaling sharply. “Sorry. I just . . . I don’t know.”

The reality of their situation settled over her like the weight of all that volcanic rock above. They were trapped underground with no food, no water, and no idea where they were going. And armed killers were up top, determined to kill them.

Her chest tightened.

Jesus, this is not good.

“Hey.” Rusty pressed his hand to her shoulder. “You okay to keep moving?”

She nodded, and a moan escaped her lips as her world spun.

“Take it easy. You have a nasty bump on your head.” His steady hand anchored her.

Pickle pressed against her leg while Soda took position beside Rusty, her posture alert as she stared into the darkness beyond the phone beam.

They moved through the darkness like an underground tactical unit, with Rusty leading the way. She couldn’t help but notice his practiced movements, checking each corner before they turned, positioning himself between her and any branching tunnels. This wasn’t paranoia or amateur survival skills. Every move spoke of professional training, adding another piece to the puzzle of who he really was.

Rusty had his share of scars. A small chunk was taken out of the top of his right ear, a lightning bolt-shaped scar crossed his right cheek, and a large welt marred his arm. There was a lot more to Rusty than just K9 protection detail.

“So,” she ventured, “you said you were in the military? How long?”

“Eight years.”

“Delta force, right?”

“Yep.”

He paused at an intersection, studying the ceiling formations.

“So, did you train Soda?”

“Yep.”

A man of few words.

“Is that your specialty? Training K9s?”

“Yep.”

“You don’t say much, do you?”

“I’m trying to focus.”

“Right, because analyzing rock formations requires your complete concentration.” The words slipped out before she could catch them.

He shot her a look that was half amusement, half warning. “You always this chatty in life-or-death situations?”

“Only on Tuesdays.” She attempted a laugh, but he didn’t buy it.

Rolling his eyes, he kept walking, swinging his phone light back and forth over the uneven ground.

She stumbled slightly, and he reached for her. His instincts were quick.

“So how long have you been training dogs?”

“Sienna.” His voice was quiet but firm. “Please.”

“What? We’re trapped in a fucking lava tube. Nobody can hear us.”

“I’m trying to focus.”

Focus? Or avoid her questions?

She shut up, but her mind kept turning over the puzzle of him as they walked deeper into the earth. The way he moved and his intense concentration. Rusty was all brawn, muscles on muscles, broad shoulders and bulging biceps, but he’d already proven he could be gentle. She wouldn’t mind getting a peek at his torso. He probably had a six-pack.

She’d never been with a man who had a six-pack.

Her last boyfriend was an accountant. Samson hated sunshine, and he would practically break out in hives if she suggested going for a walk, or God forbid, a picnic. When he wasn’t working, his downtime was spent playing stupid Fortnite while drinking enough red energy drinks to charge an entire city. She shook her head.

And I’d been so upset when he broke up with me.

“Are you okay?” Rusty swept his stunning pale green eyes to her, and a bout of recognition swept through her.

“Yep, I’m great.”

Grumbling under his breath, he shook his head and checked his watch. Maybe he had somewhere else to be. If so, that wasn’t going to happen any time soon.

Sienna trailed her fingers along the tunnel wall, and each bump and groove beneath her palm reminded her that this was real. She really was trapped underground with a man who looked ready to tear off an enemy’s head with his bare hands. Though his jaw was clenched tight enough to crack walnuts, he moved with casual confidence beside her as if they were taking a moonlit stroll along Waikiki Beach instead of navigating this pitch-black lava tube that seemed to stretch into infinity.

His ease was both welcoming and infuriating. She didn’t want to be the one to panic, but surely one of them should acknowledge the absolute insanity of their situation. Maybe this was just another workday for him, rescuing women and dogs from underground labyrinths. She almost snorted at the thought. She was far from a damsel in distress, and there was nothing funny about being trapped in tunnels with a smoking hot soldier who made her heart stutter every time their shoulders brushed together.

What’s wrong with me?

She felt like she was eighteen again, drunk on life and lust, instead of a grown woman who knew all too well how nice men turned into assholes faster than she could rectify a broken security protocol.

Soda trotted ahead, and her black coat and Kevlar made her almost invisible in the dim light. As Pickle bounded after her, his energetic movements were a stark contrast to Soda’s disciplined pace. Sienna smiled, watching the two dogs interact. Pickle darted all over the place, living up to Mr. Mischief as Aunty Dee liked to call him. “They’re getting along well,” she said.

“Yeah.” Rusty’s voice carried a note of surprise. “It’s odd. Soda usually only likes military dogs.”

He checked his watch again and his jaw tightened. The gesture was becoming annoying, and each glance at his watch added another layer of tension to his shoulders, another edge to his movements, and another layer of dread to her already tumbling thoughts.

She needed a distraction. “Hey, Rusty, you never told me how you got into training dogs.”

He moaned like her question was a major inconvenience, then he said, “When I was nine, I was attacked by a dog that nearly crushed my skull.”

“Oh my god, that’s terrible. But . . . but wouldn’t that make you scared of dogs?”

“I didn’t blame the dog. I blamed the bastard who owned her. Because of him, that beautiful dog was put down.”

A pang of sadness washed through her. “Oh. That’s . . .” She had no idea what to say.

He glanced at his watch again.

“Why are you checking the time?” she snapped, and her words echoed off the volcanic walls.

His jaw dropped and he glared at her.

“Knowing the time won’t help us down here,” she said. “Will it?”

His eyes flared in the phone light, and his look struck something in her memory, the nagging sense of recognition she couldn’t quite place. She frowned, trying to pull that elusive memory into focus.

He caught her studying him, and his expression softened. “I’m not checking the time.” His tone was gentler than she expected like he was softening a blow. “My watch has a compass. But down here, the magnetic properties in the volcanic rock mess with it, and I can’t get a reliable reading.”

Shit. I’m an idiot.

“Sorry. It’s just, you know, not every day I get trapped in a lava tube.” She attempted a chuckle, but it sounded weird.

Some of the tension seemed to drain from him. “Listen, about earlier . . .” He cleared his throat. “I should have believed you about them burying a body and I’m sorry.”

“Oh, okay. Thanks,” she said softly. “And thank you for coming with me. I’m sure this wasn’t how you planned to spend your?—”

The phone light died.

“Ah fuck!” Rusty’s bellow bounced around them like a ricocheting bullet.

“What happened?”

“Phone’s dead.” His words dropped like bricks.

“Oh God. What do we do now?”

“Hey.” His hand found her arm. “It’s okay, we’ll figure this out. Panicking doesn’t help either of us.”

“Oh really, and you’re not panicking?” Her tone hit a new crescendo.

“No, I’m not. I’ve been in worse situations than?—”

“Worse than being trapped underground with no food or water?” She tried to recall how long a human could live without water and suddenly hated all those I shouldn’t have lived documentaries she loved to watch. “Do you know something I don’t?”

“I know that we’re both healthy, fit, and uninjured. I know Soda is a highly trained military working dog, and she can track a scent through several miles of lava tubes, so she’ll help us find a way out. And I also know that remaining positive is a key component of survival. We’ll be okay.”

Okay? We are far from okay.

The blackness that engulfed them was absolute, prehistoric, the kind of darkness that had never known light. Sienna couldn’t even see her hand, just inches in front of her face.

It had taken her months to stop seeing Paige’s body every time she closed her eyes. Coming to Hawaii had been to help her search for light in her life again.

This was definitely not part of the plan.