Page 32 of The Wrecked One

“Your weight should be good, but?—”

I ditched that thought the moment the ground trembled. Her back arched, and she was about to fall. So I did the only thing I could think of and took a leap of damn faith.

Keeping my hand out, I threw all my weight toward her, looping my arm around her waist, catching her mid-air. I used every ounce of strength I had in me to keep hold of her as I flung us to the ground alongside what was now a three-by-two hole in the earth.

We’d fallen in an awkward way, too close to the hole, where I heard rocks continuing to slip down. But at least we didn’t go down, too.

Breathing hard, I turned my head, searching for her face. And it was right there. Shocked dark brown eyes on me. Pink lips close enough to kiss. Her arms were bent and wedged between us, her fingernails digging into my chest with half my body weight on top of her.

“Are you okay?” I needed to get off her, but I was stunned to be this close to her. Are you really here?

Her dark brows were slanted, and her quick breaths matched my own. Tears gathered at the edges of her eyes.

Worried I was crushing her, I finally rolled to my side. Apparently I’d landed on my bad shoulder, the pain there finally registering, letting me know it was out of whack. I grimaced as I shifted to my knees, sitting back on my bare heels, assessing the situation and how best to safely move her since she didn’t seem in a rush to go anywhere herself. Her hands were still tensed in front of her as if holding on to my chest instead of the air.

Hopefully, the backpack had cushioned her fall, and she didn’t get hurt when I took her down. Concerned she’d try to move too quickly and wind up needing a second—third?—rescue, I warned her, “Be careful. You could still fall in.”

She blinked rapidly. “You flew.”

I told you I’d learn to fly for you. But that was another time. Another reality. Things were different now. I was different.

Unable to ignore my shoulder anymore, I stood, my arm hanging limp since it wasn’t fully attached to the socket. I dodged the hole in the ground and went over and hugged the closest tree with my good arm, then flung my bad shoulder forward, resetting it. Damn thing kept dislocating, ever since . . .

I closed my eyes, finding myself back in that room in Thailand, chained to that bed. And Mya . . .

“You touched me.” Her words pulled me from the prison of my past, a place I visited nearly every night in my dreams. Well, nightmares.

It was that or you go into the hole, and I remember how much you hated that cenote in Mexico. Instead of voicing my thoughts, unsure why that memory had resurfaced now of all times, I mumbled, “What in the hell are you doing here, and how’d you find me? Why are you alone?” I went over to her, brushed the dirt from my hands onto the sides of my khakis, ignoring the burn in my shoulder, and offered her my assistance.

When she didn’t accept my hand or answer me, I decided to take a different approach, concerned she’d wind up in that hole if she made the wrong move. She’d thank me later and possibly hate me now for what I was about to do.

I crouched behind her and reached for the backpack straps. Taking a firm hold of them, I tugged her farther from the hole, gritting down on my back teeth as the burn in my shoulder continued to rage from the movement.

I let go of the backpack as she repeated, “You touched me.” She stretched her arms out in front of her, flipping her hands front to back to view them. “And I’m okay.”

“Did you hit your head?” I dropped next to her, wanting to make sure there was no blood matting her hair and that she hadn’t hit a rock when we fell. But with her odd behavior, I decided to keep my hands to myself. “Are you okay? Hurting?”

She lowered her arms and sat upright. I eased back, giving her some space.

Her gaze slowly slid over the length of my bare chest and abdomen. I looked down, noticing I’d never buttoned my pants, the fly halfway down because of it. I grumbled and corrected the situation as she whispered, “I want to both cry and yell at you at the same time.”

I feel the same. I tore a hand through my too-long, messy hair, hating she was seeing me like this. A disaster. “Mya.” I swallowed, unsure what to say next.

I hadn’t expected to see her this soon. Not until I could make things right and not be such a train wreck. Neither box had been ticked off yet, which meant I wasn’t ready to be in her presence. What if I was never ready?

Well, she’s giving me no choice now.

Her narrowed eyes continued to trail lazily up and down my body. “You look a little, um . . . Tarzan-y.”

I almost laughed. And it stopped me in my tracks. I didn’t think that was something I’d be able to do for at least another five to ten years.

I mean, technically, I didn’t do it, but that was pretty damn close, and that had to count for something.

“Have you been here the last four months?”

I closed one eye, drawing my hand from my hair to the nape of my neck as I tried to get a grip. On anything. And I’d settle for my own skin, because I couldn’t digest what was happening right in front of me.

“Are you alone? Because if you are, I guess I need to hunt Mason and the rest of Falcon down for letting you come into the woods by yourself.” With The Collective still out there and knowing your name, no less.

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