Page 9 of Riff

I didn’t dare look back, some superstitious part of me was afraid that if I did, I might provoke the men to come chasing after us.

Instead, I kept my gaze on Riff as we tore into the woods, as our feet crunched on twigs and underbrush, as random branches slapped at our bodies.

Riff didn’t slow, at times all but dragging me with him, wanting to put as much distance between us and the house and the men inside as possible.

My chest was on fire though, my weak legs screaming in pain, wobbling worse with each passing step.

Still, his hand stayed firm in mine, pulling me along.

Toward what fate?

I had no idea.

But I was pretty damn sure nothing could be worse than what he’d just saved me from.

CHAPTER THREE

Riff

I hadn’t believed what I was seeing for a moment.

Because in what world did you happen into a shed during a shootout and find a woman chained to the floor wearing a filthy dress she clearly hadn’t changed since spring or summer? So filthy, skeletal, and pale that there was no way she’d seen the outside of this shed in months?

But there was no denying that was what I saw.

She was a tiny thing.

Short and slight.

That fact was not helped by the fact that she’d clearly been starved, her skin clinging tightly to bones and not much else.

Her hair was tangled and greasy, hanging down to her shoulders in dark copper waves around a face that, even emaciated, was disturbingly beautiful. She was almost otherworldly pretty. Like a siren or a fairy or some shit like that with her delicate features, gray eyes, full, pouty lips, and a constellation of freckles over her pale skin.

I couldn’t imagine how beautiful she must have been before she’d been taken, chained, abused, and starved to near death.

Surviving in the woods for a day or two until it was safe to make it toward the roads again would be bad enough alone. And I was in good physical condition with a reasonably warm outfit on. But doing so with a woman who looked a stone’s throw from death? That was not going to be easy.

It wasn’t like I had a choice in the matter, though. Only a monster would leave her to this fate.

So I pulled her through that window, and we took off.

I couldn’t slow down for her. Not at first. Not even as I heard the gasping way she was trying to catch her breath, could hear her whimpers as her deconditioned body struggled to keep up.

We were too close to the house.

If the guys came back and spread out, they could easily find us.

So I kept tugging her along with me for the better part of an hour before she let out a loud sob that had me stopping mid-stride and whipping around, finding her eyes painfully red and a few measly tears tracing down her cheeks, likely too dehydrated to manage more than that, given how cracked her lips were even before the run through the woods.

“I… can’t… breathe,” she gasped, falling to her knees, gulping at the air.

Fuck.

I’d pushed her too hard. She was too fragile for this.

I didn’t have a choice, a voice in my head reminded me even as the guilt stabbed at me.

“Arms up,” I said, reaching to grab her wrists myself, tugging them high, opening up her chest. “In through the nose, out through the mouth. You’re alright. You just need a second,” I assured her, even as her gasps made me wonder if I wasn’t right about that.

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