Page 32 of Searching Blind

“Sawyer…” she began, but he cut her off.

“If I have it, and I don’t have you here to watch my back, more likely than not, it will be used against me.”

He was right, as much as she wished he wasn’t. She nodded, tucking the weapon into her bag. “Keep Zelda close. She’ll keep you safe.”

A smile flickered over his mouth. “My girl always does.”

She slung the bag over her shoulders and took a deep breath. “All right,” she said to the room. “Wish me luck.”

“Here.” Grant shoved a roll of duct tape at her. “Always handy to have.”

She took it without a word and stuffed it into one of the outer pockets of her backpack. She glanced around the room one last time at everyone who was now looking at her, some with hope, others with suspicion or stark fear. Sawyer was the only one not staring at her, his pale blue eyes fixed on the wall behind her.

She turned away, made it out the door and to the top of the tower’s stairs before a hand grabbed hers and dragged her back into a hard body. Sawyer kissed her, hard, his mouth demanding and rough. It was a collision of lips and teeth, a crash of emotions that sent her heart reeling. His hands were strong on her waist, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them.

“I still don’t like this,” he whispered fiercely against her lips when they finally broke apart. “You better fucking come back, Lucy Harper. I have plans for you.”

She was scared. Sawyer could taste the nerves in her kiss, smell the salty tang of fear. But there was also determination. This woman was nothing if not tenacious, and it was that fiery will that had drawn him to her in the first place.

They clung to each other for a moment longer, their bodies pressed close, their breaths intermingling.

Finally, she pulled away, patting his chest lightly. “I’ll be back with help,” she promised. “Then I’d like to know more about that plan of yours.”

“It doesn’t include clothes.”

She made a small sound that was part needy groan, part laugh. He liked it. He wanted to know what other sounds she’d make when he had her underneath him, his cock stretching her, her body surrendering to his. He’d spent too many lonely nights over the last year fantasizing about her, and now he was kicking himself for not acting on the desire sooner. He could’ve spent the last twelve months making her come every night instead of staying away and pining after her in some misguided attempt at chivalry.

He pulled her closer again. “It’s a damn good plan. Trust me.”

“Down, boy.” Her fingers brushed against his roughened cheek before she stepped back. “I’ll see you soon.”

He nodded, not trusting himself to speak as he let her go. It felt like his heart was lodged somewhere around his Adam’s apple. He listened as her footfalls echoed down the stairwell. Zelda nudged her nose against his hand, and he reached down automatically to stroke her furry head.

“You’re going to have to keep everyone sane until she gets back, baby girl.”

The dog gave an acknowledging whine and pushed her snout deeper into his palm.

The moments ticked by as he stood at the top of the stairs, listening to the fading echo of Lucy’s footfalls. Soon, all was quiet, save for the hushed whispers of the people inside the tower.

A knot formed in his stomach as he navigated his way back inside and heard Ethan’s frustrated voice.

“This fucking piece of junk! Why won’t it work?”

The radio again.

Sawyer sighed. Lucy was gone, and the responsibility to keep everyone safe had fallen squarely on his shoulders. He moved toward Ethan.

“Let me have a look at it,” he said, extending his hand.

Ethan grumbled but gave up his seat and guided Sawyer’s hand to it.

Sawyer sank into the chair and ran his hands over the old radio as Zelda settled under the table, her head resting protectively on his foot. Years of working with components like this during his time in the military came flooding back. He used to fix machinery when it was pitch black— for this one thing, blindness had never been an obstacle for him. He frowned at the odd combination of wires that seemed out of place in the radio’s guts. His fingers worked on instinct, mapping the layout of the circuitry. He could picture it all in his head—the diodes and capacitors, the intricate mesh of resistors, each individual solder point—all requiring careful inspection and adjustment.

As he worked, he felt the tension radiating from Ethan and the others. The room was heavy with fear and suspicion. He could almost taste it in the air— a bitter tang on his tongue.

“Damn thing’s been a piece of shit from the start,” Ethan mumbled beside him, radiating impatience.

“Here’s your problem.” He held up a wire that was frayed at the end. “This needs to be replaced. Do you have any spare parts or an old radio I can pull apart?”

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