Page 22 of Mountain Struggle

Damien looked at the two of them, Jamie with his head of dark hair and Tess with a cloud of blonde hair around her face—hair that normally looked soft and silky, but was now matted and limp, a reminder of everything she’d gone through.

Damien felt a surge of tenderness as he covered Tess with an extra blanket from the closet. He didn’t want either of them to ever be cold again.

He rubbed his scratchy chin—he hadn’t shaved that morning—feeling every one of the thirty-six hours he’d gone without sleep.

Damn it, I’m crashing.

All thoughts of dinner forgotten, he tiptoed out of the room and made sure all doors and windows were locked, then headed to his own room, where he lay down completely clothed and fell asleep.

Chapter 8

Tess

Tess woke up to the smell of fresh pancakes. She opened her eyes, confused, until she realized she was in Jamie’s bed. Beside her, the boy slept on, undisturbed.

She looked down at herself, still wearing what she considered her rescue clothes—the last thing she remembered was Damien telling her to stay here while he cooked dinner.

I must have fallen asleep.

That’s embarrassing.

Her bladder felt like it was going to explode. She went to the bathroom next to Jamie’s room and took care of business quickly. She looked longingly at the shower, but it’d make more sense to go to her own place and shower there, where she had clothes to get changed into.

As she washed her hands, she looked at her face—then wished she hadn’t.

Her matted hair hung in clumps around her pale face. Dark circles under her eyes proclaimed her exhaustion. But more than tired, she looked scared.

She looked at the bruise on her cheek from when the kidnapper had slapped her. It didn’t hurt unless she pressed it with her finger, but it was a stark reminder of what could have happened to her and Jamie.

Nothing happened. —

We’re both okay.

She felt herself hyperventilating and held on to the sink with both hands. Her mind knew she was safe—that Jamie was safe—but it seemed convincing her body of that was a different matter.

A quiet knock on the door interrupted her internal monologue.

“Tess?”

She held on tighter to the edge of the sink, the porcelain cool under her touch. She didn’t want him to see her like this, so weak and pathetic.

“I’m coming in, Tess,” he said, opening the door. His penetrating eyes took her in, and she knew he could see right through her.

“Hey,” he said softly.

He placed his hands over hers. His fingers gently peeled hers from the edge of the sink.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” she said in a thready voice.

“You went through a lot yesterday. You’re going to need time. I’m here to help you. You don’t need to do this alone.”

She burrowed her face into his chest, delighting in the way his arms came around her, enveloping her in a strong, warm embrace.

“Thank you, Damien.”

“Come to the kitchen. I made pancakes.”

“I need a shower first,” she said. “And some clean clothes.” At his doubtful look, she added, “I’ll be okay. I’ll let you know if I need anything.”