Pike Place Market. Tourists everywhere. He’d pulled me into that kiss without warning, and I’d been so surprised I’d dropped my coffee. The memory crashed through me, stealing what little air I had left.
I’d never told anyone that story. Not a single soul.
“Coop?”
“Yes, Kitten, I’m here.” His voice cut through the stone, stripped of everything but need. “I need you to come to me now.”
“The gap.” I was shaking so hard my teeth chattered. “It’s too small. I can’t?—”
“You can. You’ve survived things harder than this.”
Oliver’s light rounded the corner behind me. I heard his footsteps slow. Heard him stop. He couldn’t make it through that one hole into this cavern.
“Well,” Oliver said. “Here we are.”
“Now, Mia. Right now!” Coop yelled.
Oliver was saying something else—more taunts—but I ignored him. I kept my eyes on the gap, on the light at the end of that impossibly small tunnel, on the promise of Coop’s voice on the other side. I climbed farther into the crevice so Oliver couldn’t reach in and grab me. He couldn’t fit in this.
But I couldn’t make myself move into that tunnel.
“Come on, Kitten,” Coop said through the stone. “Thirty seconds of agony. Thirty seconds and you’re out.”
“How touching,” Oliver called. “The cavalry arrives. But you’re stuck, Mia. Caught between two men who can’t reach you. How apropos.”
The gap was too small for either of them. Only I could fit.
“Go ahead and go, Mia. But if you do, you’re going to die right there in that tiny tunnel. That feels right somewhere, doesn’t it? This will finish off what the accident started all those years ago.”
The stone seemed to close in more at Oliver’s words.
“That’s right. Go on into the tunnel and hyperventilate for me like a good girl. You’ll be trapped there. You won’t be able to move.”
“Mia, don’t listen to him,” Coop said.
“Or you can come out to me.” Oliver’s voice was low and almost soothing. “No impossible tunnels. No dying in agony. Hell, maybe you’ll even be able to get away from me. You never know. But you know what happens if you move forward in that tiny tunnel, don’t you? You die.”
“No, Kitten, you don’t die. You’re stronger than anyone knows, including you. You can do this. Think about me on the other side. Think about Garnet Bend. The life we’re going to have.”
Garnet Bend. Wide-open spaces and mountain air and room to breathe.
“Think about Al Pacacino and his ridiculous face.”
A sound escaped me—not quite a laugh, not quite a sob. That stupid alpaca with his stupid name. Coop grinning at me in the dark at the compound, making me laugh when the world was falling apart.
“Come on, my love,” Coop said. “Come to me. Come tous. I’m never leaving you again.”
Behind me, Oliver started forward. “This is pointless. We both know?—”
I dropped my flashlight and dove for the tiny opening.
The rock hit me immediately—arms, shoulders, chest, back. I’d gone in headfirst, arms stretched ahead of me, and the stone pressed down like a giant’s hand, squeezing the air from my lungs. I couldn’t move. The walls were crushing me, I was trapped, I was going to die here in the dark just like in the car?—
“Yes, Kitten. Keep coming. One inch at a time.”
I clawed at the rock ahead of me. Dragged myself forward. The stone scraped against my exposed flesh, tearing the dress, tearing skin. Every inch was agony.
“I can see you. You’re almost through. Keep moving, Mia.”
