Page 60 of Wedding Wrecker

Emotion floats up to my chest, because despite the angry words I said earlier, he’s still come to my aid. But as the boom of thunder rolls above, I gesture toward the hole and squeeze the branch. “He fell in, and it’s filling with water, and the walls are so slippery that I can’t just get in to help him!”

Logan pats my shoulder. “It’s good you waited. You could have both gotten stuck in there otherwise.”

Levi shakes his head, his long hair soaked and dripping. “You shouldn’t have been driving!” But he’s brought a long rope and is already unwinding it.

“We talked it through on the way,” Logan says, taking off the jacket. “I’ll go in, get Jekyll, and then you two can pull me up with the rope. But are you sure you’re okay? We’ll help him either way, but if you have a concussion, or something broken, we need to know.”

I shake my head. “What? No, I’m fine. But I should be the one to get him. It’s my fault that he ended up there,” I say, unsure the branch I dragged here will be of any use after all. I kind of hoped Jekyll could in some way climb up its length but realistically, it would have been way too vertical for him.

“You’ve been drinking and crashed a car. There’s no way we're letting you go down there,” Levi says and wraps the rope around Logan.

They’ve brought two large flashlights, which Logan puts them in the grass, close to where the muddy hole slopes down.

“He’s right. And if worst comes to worse… you can’t swim.” Logan glances to the rapidly-filling pit. “Hang in there, Jekyll!”

The dog recognizes him and lets out a little whine. I don’t have the energy left in me to analyze the things their connection makes me feel.

I want to protest, point out that Logan’s newly healed leg might cramp, and that Jekyll is my responsibility, but he checks the hold of the rope and then squeezes my arm as I stand still, like an idiot who’s swallowed his tongue.

I flinch when lightning cuts across the sky again, but when Levi whistles at me, wrapping the other end of the rope around a tree, I join him after one more glance at Logan.

“Be careful.” Because no matter how much he hurt me tonight, of course I want him to be safe.

I’m left stunned when he leans in and kisses me on the lips, but before I can say a thing, he slides into the muddy hole and disappears from sight.

I shiver, but when I step toward the edge, Levi calls me over again, and this time I rush to his side, grabbing the rope. My head is stormy as the sky above, but I choose not to think of the electric sensation still lingering on my lips. They might as well have been struck by lightning, but my questions don’t matter when Jekyll is in danger. I freeze when the rope tightens, but then, I swear I hear Logan shout, “Jekyll, baby! Jekyll baby!”

Despite being unable to see them, I know what he’s doing, and when he calls for us to help him up, I grin, knowing that my dog leapt into Logan’s arms like he had at the hospital.

“Good boy,” I mutter even though he can’t hear me.

“Wrap it around your wrist if that helps you hold the wet rope,” Levi says, and then we pull.

I stand close to the hole but can barely see inside. Right now, it feels like the edge of an abyss, and Logan is trapped there with Jekyll.

“You doing okay?” Levi yells to Logan as I strain, digging my heels into the slippery mud to pull another few inches.

“Yes! But I’m holding Jekyll! Wait. Kyle, come over, I’ll pass him to you!”

Levi makes another loop around the tree, and I let go, overwhelmed by worry. What if Logan falls farther in and breaks his neck? What if the hole is part of some old mine and can sink even farther?

I’m breathless by the time I get to my knees to lower the risk of the mud sucking me into the hollow. The rope digs into the fork in a bare root likely belonging to the tree we’re using for leverage. Mud soaks into my jeans, but I crawl forward, following the spooky glow of the large flashlights.

When I lean over the hole, Logan’s face remains in the shadow, but he’s close, and I want to grab his hand. But when Jekyll whines at the sight of me, I remember what I’m meant to do.

“Come here. Come on, boy,” I say in as steady a voice as I can muster.

With a strained grunt, Logan lifts Jekyll over his head. The poor dog is tucking its tail in terror, his bright eyes on me, and I pray that he isn’t spooked by lightning again, because that’s what prompted him to run off when I crashed the car.

“Go on, Jekyll, go to daddy.” Logan gives Jekyll’s behind a push into my arms, but we’re dealing with sixty five pounds of dog, so I bet he can’t wait to have him out of his outstretched arms. I sink deep, ready to help them both, and when I pull at Jekyll, he understands what’s needed of him and crawls over me like I wanted him to do with the branch.

“Yes, good boy,” I shout as his paw digs into my shoulder, but moments later, he’s safe, and I’m left staring down at Logan. I can barely breathe, but blood rushes to my head as I grab the rope and pull despite it cutting into the flesh of my hands.

We’re both covered in mud, and he’s waist-deep in murky water. All I can think of is getting him out of there. Levi is in tune with me and while Jekyll isn’t helping us with his whining, at least he’s not approaching the edge of the hole.

Logan grabs the rope and as we pull, he clenches his teeth and climbs up the muddy wall of the pit.

“All good there?” Levi yells, but while my heels sink into the mud, and I have to shift my position to keep myself from falling over, I can sense Logan making steady progress even before his head emerges above the edge of the hole.