The blade sawed back and forth. Even with my leg immobilized, the pain seared deep.
My face turned into the side of his thigh, where his pants were damp and streaked with dirt. I didn’t care how close it was. I just needed something solid, something that could soak up the tears. My good hand groped for a hold, my fingers bunching into what had to be his pocket.
He didn’t move, as if my grip was something he welcomed. “Hang in there for me,” he said.
The sawing stopped, and warmth settled over my palm. It was his hand. I exhaled as if someone had drawn a bath just for me.
“That’s it, Autumn,” he murmured.
He pulled his shoulders wide, chest open, easing me up inch by inch. Nothing yanked me back. My left leg was free.
I didn’t waste it. I dragged myself higher until my head found his chest.
God. After a night face-down in dirt with grit biting into my cheek and every breath filled with dust, this…this was heaven. The give of his body beneath me, the absence of pain in my face, and the faint thump of his heart, right where my ear landed.
I was still sobbing, but the pain had started to let go.
I looked for his eyes, but he was already studying my shoulder.
While he worked out what to do, I took stock. My calf was bandaged, so my blood slowed. The branch was still inside me, but it wasn’t flailing, tearing, or killing me.
Dom glanced over, his brows pulling together. “What the hell were you doing out here?”
I huffed a bitter breath. “Believing I was Superwoman.”
The ridiculousness of it hit me all at once. I hadoutrun a criminaland found a trailwithout a compass.And yet, I still managed to get decked by a tree. All because I needed water.
Frustration burned under my skin.
“Hey.” His voice softened. “Don’t beat yourself up.”
I blinked at him.
“There’s such a thing as pushing yourself too hard,” he said, his tone sincere. “But that doesn’t mean you’re not a Superwoman.”
Oh.
I nearly melted right there. If I had any upper-body strength left, I would’ve flung myself at him.
“I wanted water,” I muttered. “Didn’t quite make it to the river.”
“River?” His brow creased.
“Supposed to be somewhere down there.”
“The river’s on the other side,” he said.
“What? No, the sign pointed this way!”
He gave me a look. “I just came from the river. Trust me, it’s not down there.”
Damn it. Had I hallucinated that sign? Or the sound of running water…was that just the wind messing with me?
I clamped my mouth shut.
“Hey, don’t beat yourself up,” he repeated, firmer this time.
My confidence nudged its way back in.
