Page 163 of Capturing You
He scanned the woods. His gaze landed on the bent birch that dipped over the entrance like a gateway.
He shifted that way, practically dragging Brooklynn behind him.
They reached the entrance. He pushed the vines aside. “Go, go.”
She slid inside, and he followed her down the steep slope into the heavy blackness.
Outside, the gunshots had stopped.
“They went this way,” one man shouted. That sounded like Niles.
“No, they were over here,” another said. Could be Bryce, but Forbes couldn’t be sure.
Had the men passed the cave entrance? Were they moving deeper into the woods?
He hoped so. Prayed so.
He and Brooklynn had gone maybe ten steps when he bumped into her. “Sorry.” His voice was barely a whisper. “You okay?”
“I don’t know where I’m going.”
He should’ve gone first. Not that he knew every turn and dip, but he was accustomed to this space. He knew what to expect. “Press against the side, and I’ll get in front of you.”
She did, and he squeezed into the narrow space between her and the wall.
He could feel her fear, her warmth, her so-vulnerable, so-precious flesh.
He should keep moving, get them farther into the cave, though if the men found them here, there would be no escape.
He pressed his hand to the cold stone behind her and leaned in. “I’m sorry.”
“None of this is your fault.”
That wasn’t true.
He should have sent Brooklynn away at the first sign of her snooping. He should have taken her to her cousin’s house, or to a friend’s house, or…anywhere far from him.
He just hadn’t wanted to. He’d wanted her near him. Even before he’d developed feelings for Brooklynn, he’d craved her lightness and optimism and hope. He’d needed her like dry earth needed rain.
Now, he needed her more than ever. Needed her to be safe to live her life and grow old and be happy. He’d make sure Brooklynn had that. No matter what, if it meant never finding his family’s killers. If it meant sacrificing himself, he’d do whatever it took to get Brooklynn out of this.
“Brooklynn, I lo?—”
“Don’t do that.” Her fingers covered his mouth. “There’ll be plenty of time for that later.”
Her palm found his whiskers, her fingers trailing through them to the back of his neck. “You got us here. We’re going to be okay.”
And there it was, her optimism, her hope.
He held her and whispered a prayer in her ear, asking God for their lives. For justice. For help.
And then he took her hand, and they continued deeper into the cave.
CHAPTERTHIRTY-THREE
Following Forbes, Brooklynn unlocked her phone and found the number Jon had sent. Whoever had answered her call to the FBI earlier had ended it. Maybe they'd been able to track the call. Maybe they’d sent help, but she couldn’t count on it.
“What are you doing?” Forbes whispered.
