Page 55 of What I Should Have Done

“What about the buggy we flipped? It’s smashed, but it would provide shelter until the storm passes,” I offered, watching as the tip of the dunes darkened. The storm was moving our way and quickly. Everything the sun touched around us turned a deep orange, and the wind that preceded the sand prickled against the hairs on my neck.

Mikey’s gaze slid across our surroundings once more. Nothing more than rock and sand rose around us, and then he paused. “There.” Raising his index finger, he pointed at a low crevice in the canyon wall. The opening was barely tall enough for an average person to slither in on their belly.

I drew in a deep breath, but he didn’t wait for me to respond. As quickly as he could, he limped around in front of me and made his way across the wide ravine. Reluctantly, I followed. How deep that fissure went, I didn’t know, but Mikey seemed determined that he knew best. To him, that chasm was a better choice than a smashed dune buggy.

We reached the crack just as the first wave of sand whistled down into the canyon. Without a word, Mikey laid down on his back, wrapped his hands around the opening, and pulled himself in.

My mouth fell open; sand coated my throat as he completely disappeared. Swallowed whole by the dune wall. Coughing against the grains of dust that whipped like tiny daggers into my cheeks, I quickly flattened myself as he had and tugged.

Darkness consumed me. The scorching heat that had coated sweat on my brow immediately dissipated with the cocoon of the wide cavern. Using my hands as eyes, my fingers slid across the rough petrified sand wall, grating beneath my gloves.

The wall rose enough that I found myself sitting upright, and then a faint crack broke the whistling of the sandstorm outside. Dim red light pierced the engrossing black and my eyes followed the light to its source. Mikey had snapped a glow stick. His steel frame highlighted by the haunting radiance as the rage of the storm outside roared louder.

It echoed around these cavern walls. Walls that rose like a bubble cocooning us, perfectly comfortable for the two of us. I studied Mikey. He stared back. Still not a single expression of anything but those hardened features met my eyes.

“We need to dress your wound,” I hesitantly whispered.

“It’s fine,” he muttered in response and set the glow stick down beside him. His eyes fluttered closed, and he tipped his head back against the rock wall.

“Quit being such a stubborn ass and let me at least help,” I replied, tipping forward, and crawled over to him. But even my harsh words drew no reaction from him, and I paused at his feet.

“Blondie,” I gently said.

His sand-coated lashes finally opened, but the blue irises normally full of life looked back at me, absolutely hollow. “Hmmm?” he muttered, mindlessly.

“Thank you,” I whispered. Hesitantly, I placed a hand around his ankle. Yet, he didn’t move or flinch from the touch. Instead, his hollow eyes sparked. A shadow drifted across them like a gentle whale swimming carefree through the ocean.

“What?” he asked, his voice catching in his throat.

“Thank you for all of that. You didn’t hesitate to—”

“You’re not…?” Despite cutting me off, he didn’t seem to be able to find the words to finish his thought. Whatever strange burden weighing heavily on his crumpled soul lightened. The deep lines in his face softened.

“I’m not what?” I quietly asked. But not a sound left his lips. His eyes remained trained on mine. In the dim red glow surrounding us, innocence filled the empty pocket once laden with an unbearable guilt. My heart hammered slowly in my chest as he simply looked at me. His gaze burrowed straight into my soul, searching for something. Whatever it was, I prayed that he found it.

Then the spell shattered with a simple blink of his eyes. But that hardened torture didn’t return to his face as he exhaled slowly. “You should’ve bailed when I told you to,” he chastised me. Despite knowing he was partly right, the relief from those words overwhelmed me.

“Blah, blah. I saved your ass,” I replied.

A small smile played on his lips. “Damn good shot too.”

“Told you I knew what I was doing.”

“I never doubted it, Scotch.” He winked that stupid wink, and I rolled my eyes, using that to mask the relief swarming like honeybees inside me. He was back. A gentle chuckle hummed from him, settling the tension spinning in the stormy air. Ugh, that sound was definitely something I craved, and I hated that I did.

“Can I help you now?” I narrowed my gaze.

His grin widened. “It really isn’t that bad, but be my guest.”

“If we don’t at least clean it up and wrap it, it’ll get infected, and then they might have to chop your entire leg off.” I crawled forward between his thighs. He adjusted his posture, widening slightly to make room for me, and I swallowed stiffly. It wasn’t lost on me how…intimate this was. I could’ve just crawled to his left side, not between his damn legs. The hell was I thinking?

As I glanced up from the bloodied pant leg, Mikey lifted a brow and that usual cocky grin spread across his face. My cheeks burned hot and I was so grateful the resulting red color would blend in with the lighting of this small cavern.

He pulled his bottom lip in with his top teeth and bit back his smirk. Scrounging through my pack’s pockets, I found the emergency wrap and the homeostatic ointment. Gingerly, I pinched the fabric that was torn from hip to knee and widened the tear.

A long cut sliced his thigh open parallel with the ripped cloth. The blood seemed to have already clotted, so cleaning up the area became more of a priority than applying some homeostatic ointment. I stuffed that back in my pack and slipped out a canteen of water.

“Take your pants off,” I said.

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