Page 58 of Sawyer’s Mistake

Below him, Saoirse cried out. Her fear was a tangible, live thing. It focused him. If he let go of the branch, she and Prado would die. It was as simple as that.

She looked up and their eyes locked. Her blue eyes were wide with fear.

When she spoke, it was so quietly that he almost didn’t hear her over the roaring in his ears.

“Where’s the knife?” she asked Prado.

Holding himself completely still, Prado raised his head. The two men locked eyes.

“Don’t you fucking dare touch that knife,” Sawyer threatened through clenched teeth.

“If we don’t cut the rope, we’re going to take you down with us,” Prado said softly.

“I can hold on,” Sawyer replied. Even as he said so, he felt muscles tearing in his right arm. He roared in pain. He needed that miracle, and he needed it now.

Suddenly, two large shadows appeared behind him, blocking out the sun. Sawyer turned his head, already mentally apologizing to Saoirse in his mind. If it was the Remur, they were done for.

“How the fuck did they find us!” Sawyer had never been so happy to hear an angry Storme. He raised his eyes to see both Storme and Meir racing towards him. They overtook him and took the rope in their hands.

“You can let go now,” Meir said, unwrapping the rope from Sawyer’s mangled arm.

Sawyer scooted to the side, leaving them room to work. He couldn’t move back from the edge. He needed to make sure Saoirse was okay.

Working together, hand over hand, Storme and Meir raised Saoirse and Prado. They grunted with the effort. Finally, Saoirse’s head was visible. Her freckles stood out on a face that looked frozen in fear.

“I’ll hold them,” Storme said. “Pull her up, Meir.”

Meir clasped Saoirse’s right hand and wrapped his other hand around her wrist for good measure. With Prado pushing on her bottom, it was a matter of seconds before her body was over the edge. Moments later, with Storme and Meir both holding on to the rope, Prado clambered up.

“Fuck, that was close.”

Now that he knew they were both okay, Sawyer lay down on the ground. Huge shivers racked his body.

“Oh my God, Jake,” Saoirse sobbed, crawling towards him. “Your shoulder.”

His eyes filled with tears. “I thought I was going to lose you. Let’s … let’s not do that again.”

She laughed. “Right. Whereas Javier and I thought it was a fun sport.”

“Speak for yourself, lady. I hate heights,” Prado said. Then more quietly, “Thanks, man.”

Sawyer nodded, his expression serious. “You were willing to die to save her. I’m the one who should be thanking you.”

“We’re too exposed out here,” Storme said impatiently. “We need to get back inside the farmhouse. Can you walk, Sawyer?”

Sawyer nodded. “Nothing wrong with my legs. Just help me up.” He hoped he was telling the truth, and that he wasn’t just about to embarrass himself.

Meir and Prado supported him, careful to avoid his injured shoulder. Sawyer hobbled back to the farmhouse.

Chapter 23

Saoirse

When they left early next morning, Saoirse insisted on traveling in the van. Sawyer lay across from her, taking up two seats, snoring softly. His right arm hung loosely in a homemade sling.

“Are you sure he’s okay?” she asked.

“He’s just sleeping. I gave him a strong painkiller. If he’s lucky, he’ll sleep all day,” Zander replied, just as he’d done the nine previous times she’d asked.