Page 16 of Rescued by the Captain

This woman.

She’s mine and I’ll make sure that she’s safe.

These assholes are going down.

Bria

I lose count of how many times I nearly toppled into the snow, casting glances over my shoulder. It’s like every sound, every sight, and every smell is an enemy.

My head is loud with one thought, one face only. Donte. I want to know that he’s still alive, that he’ll make it to me.

It takes everything in me to not turn back. To end my constant hesitating. As much as I desire to be snug in his arms like we once were, my desire is too selfish to fulfill right now.

He told me to go because he knows that it’s the only way. I must keep my promise to him, no matter what. Follow the smoke, is a command that repeats in my head over and over.

Perhaps, it’s the last words I’ll be able to clutch dear from Donte.

A small home crops up in the distance. At first, I bat my eyelashes thinking that I’m imagining a silhouette in the dark. I’m used to seeing nothing but trees, the ashy plume, and glowing mounds of snow.

But there are other people in the woods. People who aren’t, I pray, out to slaughter me. I sprint up the porch, bang my fist on the door as I wipe the tears from my face. I realize they’ve long dried up. Before I was even ready to let go of the heartbreak, its remnants have been erased for me by the unforgiving elements.

A slit forms in the entrance. I see a lady peek through the door, her eyes blue like the morning sky.

I’m about to introduce myself when she tugs me in. The home is a near replica of the cabin— very antiquated with its paisley wallpaper and upholstered furniture, but more spacious. Not to mention, the floor doesn’t threaten to collapse under my feet while taking a step.

The woman pats the snow off my coat, her eyes frantic. “You’re Bria, aren’t you?” she asks. There’s a flicker of recognition in her eyes, and I’m surprised she appears to know me already.

“Yes, I’m here to—” I’m cut off by the barks of a large dog. A man with a scowl walks into the room, a Rottweiler tagging along at his side. The dog playfully wags his tongue at me, but glares at the door.

The woman’s expression turns serious. “My name is Izzy Winchester. That’s my husband, Redd.” She points over at the man.

Relief washes over me. If these people are teaming with us to help, then both Donte and I have better fighting chances. Maybe I can even ask if we can trek back in case he needs reinforcements.

Bang!

Everyone jolts at the sound of gunfire.

“Go low, stay away from the windows!” Mr. Winchester shouts, beckoning for us to be smart and limit visibility.

I crouch on instinct, following Izzy into the living room.

She flits a glance at me. “We’ve got to batten down the hatches. My husband is doing the front door, we’ll do the back.” When we fasten the latch over the back door and push furniture against it, she adds, “And, if our defenses give in… we’ll be ready for a fight. If we must.”

I place a palm on my forehead, almost to steady myself and make sure this is real. Chaos is raging at breakneck speed, and I feel that I can’t get a breath of air before a new threat is launched our way.

Izzy sits me on the couch. She fills me in on her past, and suddenly, the gaps in my memory begin to crystalize.

“I remember Violet Briggs… and the Briggs and Winchester feud,” I recount aloud.

Izzy smiles warmly. “Well, things change, dear. Violet married Luke Winchester.”

My eyebrows raise. “No way!”

Chuckling, Izzy waves my fascination away. “But enough about us. How about you?”

I grip the wrinkles in my pants. Creases that are spotted with Donte’s blood. “Well, obviously, things are a little rough right now.”

Izzy laughs. “Yes, I got that. But why?”

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