Tailspin

“And now you’ve blown his trust.”

“He invited us to follow him, didn’t he?”

“Doesn’t mean he’ll let you use his radio.”

“That remains to be seen.”

Sylvie wasn’t sure she liked Will’s answer. Was he going to use the radio or not? And if not, how did they get out of here? The need to get them out of his sanctuary should be reason enough for Snake to let them call for help.

Sylvie could barely make out the man’s silhouette ahead of them since he made better time, crept stealthily through the forest much faster than Will, who carried Sylvie. Once again, she found the need to distract herself from Will’s sturdy body, and the great care and attention he took to making the ride as smooth as possible despite the slick, sodden boulders and fallen trunks and debris he had to step over and around.

Finally, Will stood at the open door of Snake’s log cabin and then carried Sylvie over the threshold.

“You can set her down over there.” Snake referred to her as if she were a box of supplies and gestured to a long sofa near the woodstove.

Will was right. The man had something going on the stove, and the aroma stirred her hunger. After Will gently settled her on the sofa—worn out but more plush than she would have expected—Snake appeared by Will’s side with a first-aid kit.

“Thanks.” Will took the kit. “She needs dry clothes, too. Got any extras? I’ll make sure to reimburse you.”

“No need for that.” Snake nodded and disappeared through a door off the main room.

“I agree,” she said. “There’s no need for you to reimburse Snake for any dry clothes he offers me. I’m perfectly capable of doing that myself.”

At Will’s surprised glance, she added, “And I’m perfectly capable of being grateful.” She offered a smile of her own. “Thank you, Will, for your thoughtfulness. For carrying me through the woods. I’m sorry you had to do that. Besides, you need them, too.”

“What do I need?” Will crouched near her ankle and examined it.

“Dry clothes.”

“I’ll manage. And you’re welcome, by the way. All in a day’s work.”

Yeah, right. When he touched her ankle, she winced.

“It’s not so bad,” he said, “And probably the least of your worries. Am I right?”

“You know you are.”

He shot her a grin that tugged at her insides. She was losing it. Cold and hungry and injured and...well...that made her vulnerable. Sylvie wouldn’t read anything into his grin. She couldn’t afford to get sidetracked.

“I’ll wrap this after you change out of the dry suit.” Will stood when Snake appeared and held out a couple of large flannel shirts and some jeans.

“These do?”

Will cocked a brow at Sylvie, humor flickering in his gaze.

“It’ll have to. Thank you, Snake.” Saying his name felt awkward on her lips.

Will slung the extra clothes over his shoulder. “Thanks, Snake.”

Sylvie hated to ask, hated to need help, but worse than that, she hated to limp across the floor. No, falling on her face would be worse. She had some vertigo. Not good. She hoped she only had a mild case of DCS. She’d never before gotten the bends. The dive hadn’t been that deep, and she’d descended at the appropriate rate. But her ascending straight to the surface without any stops had been all it took to throw her body chemistry into turmoil. The cold water and exertion from fighting off a killer hadn’t done her any favors.

The next few hours would be telling, especially if she didn’t get help. But first things first. Right now she simply needed to make it to that room for some privacy. “Will, can you assist me to the room so I can change?”

“Sure thing. Um... Sylvie... I need to doctor that gash across your shoulder and back, too.”

“You don’t think that can wait?”

His grin from moments ago quickly faded. “No.”

“I need to doctor your head,” she said. Fair play.

“Snake has a mirror. I can take care of it.”

But Sylvie couldn’t reach her shoulder and back, even with a mirror, so that was that. She let the compassion and concern in Will’s warm brown eyes calm her nerves. He was good in that way, even addicting if she wasn’t careful.

“While you guys take care of business,” Snake said, “I’ll dish up the stew. Got strong coffee going, too. When you’re ready, we’ll eat.”

“Sounds good.” Will assisted Sylvie into what was obviously Snake’s bedroom and set her on the bed. He frowned down at her.

All she wanted to do was lie down and sleep forever. This close to a bed, the warmth of the cabin and the aroma of the stew, she could sense the adrenaline crash coming.

Hold it together. Just a little longer.

“You okay to get out of that suit without any help?” His tone and the look in his eyes said his only concern was for her. He wasn’t going to take advantage of her. She didn’t trust easily, but he’d brought her this far. She wanted to trust him.

“Thanks, Will, but I can handle it.”

“Good. Call me when you’re ready.”

“Okay.” His words held tenderness that pricked her heart. She was definitely vulnerable. Somehow she had to get her guard back up. She’d been through too much already.

Her stepfather had been a wonderful father during her childhood. Someone she could trust, someone she had been proud to call Dad, until she’d become older and wiser. When she was a teenager, she discovered he was having an affair. The betrayal devastated Sylvie. She didn’t know where to turn. She didn’t want to hurt her mother, but finally shared his duplicity, only to learn that her mother already knew. How could her mother let him treat her like that? At first Sylvie thought her mother hadn’t left because she loved him—which just proved how dangerous love could be. Sylvie built a wall around her heart that day. She could never trust anyone again. And from that moment on, she called him Damon.

But then, behind closed doors, she heard the arguments. Raised voices. Her mother crying. And then Sylvie began to suspect that her mother hadn’t left Damon because she was afraid of him. Afraid to leave. Damon was a powerful man.

None of that mattered now, except to remind her to keep her guard up around Will. She needed to keep herself together until she was back home. Or at least in that decompression chamber.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, her ankle throbbing, every joint in her body aching badly enough to make her completely forget the open gash in her back, she drew in a breath and prepared to peel out of the dry suit and layers of clothing beneath. All she wanted was a hot shower, but she supposed the best she could get at an off-grid cabin was a sponge bath. She looked down to see the ripped, practically shredded suit. She hadn’t wanted to look too closely. Seeing it now, a replay of the last few hours flashed through her mind, reel after reel.

All the way to her soul, Sylvie was torn and ripped like the dry suit she wore.

She pressed her face into her hands and let everything she’d held back come flooding out.

* * *

Will had changed quickly so he’d be ready to dress Sylvie’s wound. Behind the door he could hear her quiet sobs. She’d been strong, held it together in front of him. He wasn’t sure why the sound rocked through him, knocking against the hidden parts of his heart. He pressed a hand on the door as though he could comfort her. He didn’t know this woman at all, but he didn’t have to know her to feel the pain with her.

He let his hand drop. He wouldn’t go rushing in. He wasn’t a knight and she didn’t want to be saved. If he knew anything at all about the woman shut away in the room, it was that she didn’t want him to see her vulnerable. Sucking in a breath, he glanced up and caught Snake watching him from where he hovered over the fire, dishing up the stew that he cooked in a cast-iron pot hanging over the flames, old school.