Page 95 of Chasing Paradise

“No,” I said when Wick started toward the hole in the cave.

“It’s this or die,” he said. “I’ll go first.”

Then, throwing his pack through, he climbed into the claustrophobic hole and started to move through.

My stomach twisted, my palms sweated, and I felt dizzy with how hard my pulse was pounding in my ears.

“Violet, now,” Wick yelled from the hole.

He was right.

The shooting had stopped.

Footsteps were approaching.

It was the only choice.

With a whimper, I pushed my pack through, then climbed in, the cave gritty on my hands and legs as the hole narrowed and I had to wiggle on my belly instead of crawl.

My chest was tight.

Even gasping for breath, I couldn’t breathe.

Then a hand closed around my foot and pulled.

A scream I couldn’t have known I was capable of escaped me.

“Vi!” Wick reached into the hole from wherever he was, grabbing my wrists, and dragging me with every bit of strength in his body.

My body rushed forward.

And behind my feet, rocks crumbled, falling on my back as I was pulled through.

“Shit,” Wick hissed as more, larger rocks started to fall.

And more.

I was half-crushed by them as Wick desperately tried to pull me into the alcove he’d found.

“No,” I gasped as, once I was pulled free, more and more rocks fell.

The cave itself rumbled as the cave-in continued.

Little by little, the rush of the waterfall silenced. The light disappeared.

“No,” I cried, breaking free from Wick and trying to pull the rocks out of the hole.

“Duchess, no,” Wick said, grabbing me around the waist and pulling me back. “You could make it worse.”

“Worse? Worse than this? We’re trapped!”

“Yes, worse. We could be crushed. And die slowly from injuries.”

“Might be better than dying of dehydration or, like, lack of oxygen. Oh, God. I can’t breathe.”

“Hey, okay, look at me,” Wick demanded, framing my face, forcing my face up. “Breathe with me.”

He sucked in a deep breath, and I tried to do the same. Failed. Then tried again.

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