Page 84 of Searching Blind

The roar of a motorcycle’s engine drew Lucy to her front window. In the driveway sat a Harley. She vaguely recognized the tattooed man sitting astride it—one of the Redwood Coast Rescue guys—but she couldn’t recall his name.

What was he doing here?

Oh, God. Was Sawyer okay?

She rushed to the door and yanked it open as the big man reached her porch. His leather boots thudded heavily on the wooden steps as he climbed them two at a time. He removed his helmet, revealing skull-trimmed hair and a series of wicked scars running across his head.

“Lucy?” His voice was a low rumble.

“What’s going on?”

“Name’s Donovan Scott.”

Donovan. Right. He’d been there that night. The night she’d torn out her own heart to protect the man who meant more to her than anything. “What’s wrong?”

“You need to come with me.”

Her heart slammed against her ribs. He looked so serious, so grim. Oh God, something was wrong with Sawyer. She grabbed her coat, locked her door, and hurried after him. “Is Sawyer all right?”

He handed her a black helmet. “I’ve been instructed not to discuss it with you until we get there.”

Lucy’s stomach twisted into a knot as she buckled the helmet with shaking hands. He was told not discuss it? That could only mean bad news. Terrible news. She climbed onto the back of the motorcycle, the heat of the engine seeping through her jeans.

Donovan revved the throttle, and the bike lurched forward. Lucy grabbed his waist to keep from tumbling off the back. The wind whipped at her clothes as they sped through town, taking turns so sharply she thought they might tip right over.

Her mind raced as they wove through the quiet neighborhood streets and merged onto the highway heading north out of town.

What could have happened to Sawyer? Was he hurt? In trouble? A thousand terrible scenarios played out in her imagination.

Dying?

Already dead?

Oh, God. No.

They roared down the winding coastal road. Normally, she loved this stretch of highway with its breathtaking ocean views, and she was glad to see the earthquake hadn’t caused much damage here, but she couldn’t focus on the beauty of the ride. Her stomach churned with dread.

Why had she let her fears get the best of her?

Why had she pushed him away?

Had she lost him?

After what felt like an eternity, they pulled off the highway onto a barely there gravel road. Her hands fisted in Donovan’s leather jacket. Where the hell was he taking her?

“Almost there,” Donovan called over his shoulder.

Where was “there”? His cryptic words did nothing to halt the onslaught of fear that threatened to swallow her whole.

A few minutes later, Donovan abruptly slowed, pulled off the dirt road, and parked under a stand of towering redwoods. He killed the engine and swung his leg over the bike, gaze scanning their surroundings as if expecting an ambush.

He then turned to Lucy, his hardened features softening somewhat. “We can walk from here,” he said, pulling off his helmet.

Lucy followed suit, her hands trembling as she unclipped her helmet.

The cool, salty ocean breeze was undercut with the earthy scent of the forest. She looked around the unfamiliar clearing. The only sounds were distant sea waves and the wind whispering through the towering trees. It felt... peaceful. But a sense of foreboding still lingered like an unwelcome shadow.

Donovan waited for her to dismount before beginning a silent trek deeper into the woods, his heavy boots crunching dried leaves and twigs underfoot. Lucy followed, a rush of adrenaline pumping through her veins with every beat of her racing heart.

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