Page 113 of Break My Fall

Meredith’s hands tightened on him, and the way her body shook behind him ... they were running out of time. Whetherher tremors were from cold, panic, or both, he had to get her out of here. Fast.

“I don’t care about the girl.” This came from a man who looked like he could bench-press a small car. “I care about those idiots on the dirt bikes. Who are they? And what are they doing here?”

“You’re gonna care when Johnstone finds out we lost her,” the third man—shorter, thinner, and with an accent that screamed “not from around here”—said. “I don’t care what’s happening as long as they don’t kill her in the crossfire.”

“She’s been out here a long time,” Bench Press said. “If we don’t find her soon, there may not be much left of her to take back.”

“The cop will protect her.” Tall Man waved a hand at the trees around them. “We’ll have to take him out.”

“Fine by me.” Skinny Dude spat out a string of curses. “We’ll bury him with the others. We’ll play it off that they took off after the wedding and never made it home.”

“No one will believe that.” Tall Man ducked as another stream of gunfire erupted to their right.

“No one will be able to prove different.” Bench Press pointed toward the river. “But we have to get out of here first.”

Gray strained to hear more, but the men moved off and disappeared from view.

Meredith’s body continued to tremble, but this time, he suspected it was more from fear than anything else.

An explosion ripped through the forest. If Meredith cried out, Gray couldn’t hear it. The tree they’d taken shelter in shook so hard Gray wondered if it would fall. He turned so he was pressing Meredith into the tree, his arms around her. She had her hands over her ears and her head tucked against his chest. The tree stopped shaking, but the ringing in his ears kept Gray from processing what was happening.

When he could hear again, the air filled with the sounds of men screaming in agony. Then shots. Two at a time. Then everything went quiet for twenty seconds before engines revved, and the dirt bikes sped away.

The silence left behind was more terrifying than the gun battle.

THIRTY-ONE

Meredith wasn’t as cold as she’d been before, and she was pretty sure that was a problem. Before the explosion, she’d zoned out several times. Then Gray would shift, or pinch her leg, or press an elbow into her side, and she’d refocus. After the second time he pinched her, she realized he was doing everything he could to keep her awake.

She’d been sitting on a branch a few feet off the ground. It was uncomfortable, but better than sitting on the wet ground. At some point, Gray had shifted so his feet were on the ground and he’d been holding on to her. Or maybe holding her in place so she didn’t fall? She wasn’t sure.

Her head spun. Gray pulled away slightly and looked at her. “We have to try to get home, Meredith. We can’t stay here any longer. Do you think you can walk?”

“Yes.” She had no idea if she could or not, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to try.

“Okay, here’s the plan. We keep following the river. We keep our eyes open. The gunfire will have brought Cal and Mo this way. Donovan and Brick too. We keep moving until we find some friendlies.”

“Gray? What are the chances—”

He stopped her question with a quick kiss. “We don’t think that way in battle. We can’t. Our friends are fine. Our family is fine. And we’ll see them soon. Okay?”

Having never been in a battle before, she decided to borrow his survival mechanism. Because if she thought too much about Cal or Mo lying somewhere nearby? Bodies torn apart? With two bullet holes for good measure?

She blinked back hot tears. “Okay.”

She climbed down from her perch, crawled out from under the branches Gray held for her, and followed him as he slowly made his way toward the river while still keeping them a good distance from it.

They’d walked for three minutes when they found the first body. Gray held up his hand. “Don’t look.” But it was too late. She’d already seen. The man on the ground was missing an arm, and the blood had turned the rainwater around him into a pink puddle.

Gray pulled his phone from his pocket and snapped a photo.

They kept walking. A minute later, another body was leaning against a tree, eyes wide. Gray took another photo.

The path he took must have been on the edge of the carnage because there weren’t any more bodies until they’d walked past the bend in the river.

What she saw sent Meredith to her knees, stomach heaving. Five bodies. Or, more precisely, what was left of them. Gray helped her up, and they kept moving.

They hadn’t seen a body for five full minutes when a man stepped in front of them.

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