Mikayla shudders from time to time, but thankfully, she doesn’t protest being carried across my shoulders.
What I thought might be an old military structure turns out to be ruins of a small building—maybe a craftsman’s shop—at least three or four hundred years old. I’ve studied every single known structure on the Maya Trail, and this one never came up in any of my research.
But if I never discovered it, it’s unlikely anyone else knows about it either, which should keep us safe for the night. At least until the storm passes.
I set Mik down close to the entrance while I clear the room. Plenty of brush in one corner, likely deposited by the wind, but I kick it aside and nothing skitters out from hiding. No wild animals, snakes, or poisonous spiders.
It’ll work. Dropping my rucksack, I unpack the camping mat and roll it out along the back wall. The space isn’t airtight by any means; the roof is missing in huge chunks—except for the corner where we’ll sleep. Next, I retrieve a sleeping bag.
Carefully, I lay out everything I think we’ll need. Protein bars, two bottles of water, Mik’s inhaler, anti-inflammatories, and the mylar blankets that will help trap our body heat.
I can’t stand being even a few feet away from her for another minute, so I cradle her to my chest and carry her back to the makeshift bed.
“Mik? I don’t know if you can hear me, but you need to be warm, sweetheart. And that means getting out of these wet clothes.”
I’ve been soaked for hours, but I’ve also been moving, and now that I’m not, I can feel the chills setting in. I strip off my own pants, t-shirt, sweatshirt, and socks. Everything except for my boxer briefs. I want her. I’ve wanted her since I first spoke to her, but I won’t disrespect her, even if it means sleeping in wet boxers.
“No sex on the first date. Or second.”
“I was raised in a very conservative family.”
Her honor—her comfort—are second only to her life. After I get her shoes and socks off, I find swelling around her left ankle. Retrieving a small towel from my pack, I pat her foot and lower leg dry, then wrap the ankle securely with an ACE bandage.
Now? Things get challenging.
Draping one of the mylar blankets over her lower body, I carefully undo her belt, then the zipper on her pants, and maneuver them down her hips. All while trying not to let the blanket slip.
Her skin is soft, but so cold. Another blanket over her upper body, and I take a seat behind her and rest her against my chest. I can do this with my eyes closed. Strip off her ripped poncho, the flannel shirt, and fuck. Her tank top.
Her bra and panties are wet too, but they’ll dry quickly once we’re under the blankets.
I should check her for injuries. Bruises. Contusions. But not until she can consent. For now, it’ll be enough to get her warm.
If I could hold her and build a fire at the same time, I would, but now that she’s under two of the blankets and tucked into the sleeping bag, she’ll be okay for five minutes. At least…I hope she will be. I’m second guessing everything at this point. All of my training. All of my missions. Everything.
I grab large handfuls of brush, pile them close to the entrance, and add a waterproof fire starter. The first sparks catch in just a few seconds, and I gather some of the larger branches to lay on top. The heat warms the small space quickly, and the open roof lets the smoke escape well enough.
When I slide into the sleeping bag at Mikayla’s back, her skin is still so cold, but I guide her so she’s lying half on top of me, her head resting on my good shoulder, and wrap my arms around her. “I need you to wake up, Mik. To talk to me and tell me you’re okay.”
Mikayla
A sweet, smoky scent teases my nose.
I can feel my nose.
My cheeks, nose, and lips were the first parts of me to fade into nothingness after I fell. Then my hands and feet. But I can feel them too. Little pinpricks of pain dance along my fingers and toes, and I flex them, then suddenly realize I’m lying on top of Austin. And we’re both mostly naked.
“Mik?” he says, his voice deep and rumbling through his chest—the chest I’m draped over.
“Where are we?” Those three words take almost everything out of me, and I can’t muster the strength to move beyond opening my eyes and blinking hard.
Flickering. Firelight. Dark, stone walls. Old. A dirty floor.
“Somewhere.” The rustling of a sleeping bag accompanies his low chuckle. “Sorry, sweetheart. I can’t tell you much more than that. This old building isn’t on any map I’ve seen of this area. Hell, it was only a tiny blip on the GPS.”
“We’re safe here?” My whole body aches, all the bruises from my fall making themselves known, and I wince.
“As safe as I can make us.” Austin brushes his hand over my hair, and the intimate gesture brings a lump to my throat. “How do you feel?”
