Page 58 of Eternally Devoted

He clambers to his feet, coughing and sputtering as he yanks his gaiter down, mouth gaping as he sucks in fresh air. “Fuck!” he breathes, spitting and swiping at his nostrils. “That smelled putrid,” he gasps, nudging one of the burlap bags with his foot.

Juniper gasps, bringing her hand to her mouth, and from my spot on the ground where I fell over, I get to my feet. “What?” I ask, but I follow her gaze because she doesn't answer, and?—

“Oh fuck,” I quietly gasp, at first reaching toward Dash but then letting my hand come back down, unsure of what to do.

“What?” he asks, panic widening his pupils as he looks between us frantically. “What? Why did you gasp? Why did you say that?”

I level my hands in front of him, stepping nearer, attempting to calm him with a steady, controlled gaze. “Okay, just relax, but?—”

His eyes turn to saucers. “What?” The question is shaky.

“There is…” I glance at his shoulder where a decomposing finger rests, stuck to a clump of… Jesus Christ. I don’t know what that crap is. Guts? No, guts would dry out. That finger looks like it must've found a wet, shady spot in that well because it still looks human. The other burlap bag, open with its contents scattered from the fall, seems to be mostly bones and critters.

I motion to his shoulder. He rears back in a wince just as I say, “There’s a finger on your shoulder.”

Then all hell breaks loose.

CHAPTER

TWENTY-ONE

HE GAVE ME A HEART BONER, DAMN IT.

Dash

“What the fuck? Get it off me!Get it the fuck off me!” I shout, violently swiping at my shoulder, my gloved hand moving over the rotted finger over and over. “Oh god, it’s stuck!” I scream.

“Calm down—” Juniper starts, but I can’t calm down.

The stench of that death cave is burned into my nostrils, and the feel of that dead finger beneath my palm is freaking me out. “Get it the fuck off!” I shout, swiping a few more times before reaching for my shirt, tearing it off over my head.

Only, in my panic, I forget I’m wearing a baseball hat, so my shirt gets stuck over my head, the putrid finger squishes against my cheek, all rotten and disgusting.

“Pull my shirt off!” I scream, flailing my arms as I completely and utterly freak the fuck out. There is a rotten wormy finger touching my face, and the more my brain circles that fact, the harder I lean into freak-out mode. Sterling reaches into the balled-up shirt, yanking off my hat. He pulls again and rips my shirt clean off, taking the finger with it. Only, he yanks so hard and I’m so unsteady on my feet, I crash into him, sending him heels overhead, backward down the small hill leading to the creek.

Instinctually, I reach for him, but because I’ve been freaking the fuck out for the last thirty seconds, I’m not careful and I lose control of my footing. As I slide and twist down the hillside, Sterling does the same and in a split second, I’m on top of him in the water, both of us fully submerged.

He pops his head up without thrashing, and I do the same. We’re able to stand at this part of the creek, thank fuck, so we do, the water circling right below our pecs. Sterling’s taller, so a little more of him peeks out of the water.

He’s coughing, rubbing the back of his head and heavy drops of water plunk from his clothed, drenched elbow to the surface of the creek.

Finally, we both catch our breaths. I blink at him wearing a lopsided smile. “I may have slightly overreacted about the finger.”

His chuckle warms me from the inside out, even though the creek water has my nipples hard enough to cut glass.

“You think?” he asks, surveying the hillside we just slid down. A moment later, Juniper appears at the top. When she spots us, her hands come to her chest with relief.

“Jesus,” she breathes from about forty feet up. “Are you guys okay?”

Sterling lifts a hand from the water and waves her back. “We’re okay, sweetheart. Stay up there. We’re climbing out.” He faces me again. “You okay?”

I nod. “Yeah.”

He looks up at where Juniper waits then back to me, a slight smirk on his lips. “Don’t you deal with this stuff as a cop sometimes?”

I snort and send a splash of water to his face. “I moved to Bluebell so I wouldn’t see shit like that. I mean, small, Hallmark towns don’t have a lot of murder, you know?”

He nods. “True.” He wades toward the edge of the creek, using the strength in his powerful quads to climb out. I follow in his steps, but find myself slipping on the silt, falling back into the creek. He laughs, outstretching a hand to me. “C’mon.”

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