Her lips are blue. Her skin pale and waxy. Frost clings to her lashes and hair.
“Abigail,” I whisper desperately, brushing wet hair from her face. “Honey. Look at me.”
Nothing.
I press my ear to her chest as Lucy settles in the snow next to us. For a terrifying second, Lucy’s whimpers are the only thing I hear. And then—
A shallow, uneven breath. It rattles, wet and thin, like her body is struggling to remember how
“There,” I choke. “She’s breathing.”
“We have to get her clothes off,” Jasper commands as Beau takes off his jacket next to him. “Lawson—she’s hypothermic. Her clothes.”
Right.
Quickly as we can, Linc and I tear off her soaking wet clothes until she’s in nothing but her bra and underwear. Beau hands me his sweatshirt and jacket—leaving him in nothing but his long sleeve—and I slide them over her. Next thing I know, Jasper’s handing me his socks and sliding his bare feet back into his boots as Lincoln slides them over her blue toes.
“We have to move,” Linc says grimly. “Now. Before her core temp drops any more.”
Jasper sweeps the tree line with his jaw clenched tight. “Second ATV’s gone. Tracks head deeper into the woods.”
There will be a reckoning—but not yet.
Right now, Abigail is dying in my arms.
“Stay with me,” I beg under my breath. “You don’t get to leave. You hear me?”
Her lashes flutter once.
Just once.
“Lawson,” Beau says urgently.
Right.
“Jas,” I snap. “You and Dez are the fastest. You take her.” Jasper nods, and the four of us head up the riverbank with her in my arms.
“Abigail,” I murmur as we move. “You were so brave. You got away. My brave girl.” As we approach the horses, Jasper gives me one last look—one full of devastation and fear—before he mounts Destiny in one fluid motion. “He’s got you,” I whisper fiercely before pressing my mouth to her temple, over and over again. “Just hold on, Honey.”
I lift her carefully so she’s settled against his chest. He grips Destiny’s reins in one hand and wraps his other arm around Abigail. Pressing every inch of heat he has into her.
She doesn’t stir.
“Go,” I tell him. “Don’t stop.”
Destiny lunges forward, muscles bunching beneath Jasper and Abigail as she tears through the woods with Lucy not far behind.
“What are we gonna do about him?” Lincoln asks as he and Beau mount their horses. Clearly neither is eager to stay here and deal with it.
I quickly mount Atlas and look at the woods behind me, where one brother lies dead, and two more arehiding. Running.
But right now, none of them matter.
All that exists is the fragile rise and fall of Abigail’s chest, and the desperate, bone-deep certainty that we are minutes away from losing her forever.
“We’ll come back and deal with the body later. The brothers won’t come back. Right now, we just need to get to her. We need to get home.” And with a crack of the reins, Atlas speeds forward.
Chapter three
