Page 155 of Swept for Forever
One look at her, and I was ready. “Hell yeah,” I replied.
She edged closer, her body fusing to mine. “Don’t let go,” she breathed.
Our arms locked tight.
And there was no margin for doubt.
The ledge crumbled beneath my boots as we pushed off and jumped.
The drop felt like forever, but I’d never felt closer to her. Her weight pressed into me, her breath caged tight.
For those few suspended seconds, the world blurred. There was nothing but the bare trust of someone betting everything on you. No courtroom. No safety net. Just gravity and her.
And if this were the end, I’d take it. Every damn second of it.
She held on with an unspoken plea,Don’t let go, and I didn’t plan to. Not until the river pulled us apart.
Cold slammed into my ribs, knifing through bruised muscle, and my breath tore from my lungs before I could even fight for it. Every part of me screamed—the cracked ribs, the battered shoulders, the fists Pickle had driven into my side. Water pressed down from all angles.
We kept sinking, down, down, deeper than I’d expected. I opened my eyes, my lungs already aching, and there she was! She was a few feet away, suspended in the dark blur, her hair waving.
I reached for her, my fingers scraping the current until I caught her arm. She was moving purposefully and pulling me with her, angling us sideways.
Jesus. This didn’t look like a river. This must’ve been a scour pool.
She’d known. How? I couldn’t tell you, but somehow, she’d planned for this.
I kicked harder, matching her rhythm. My lungs shrieked. Then, finally, light fractured above us. Otter tugged again, guiding me toward the bend where the depth shallowed.
But the victory didn’t last long. The crack of gunfire split the air behind us. They were reckless now, panicked, and there was no concern about what they’d hit. They didn’t hesitate to scrap their plan to make our deaths look like an accident.
We didn’t wait to see if they’d aim better the second time. We went under, our arms cutting the water.
The river pulled hard, the current relentless. But we let it.
Away. We had to get away. But as we slipped out of their line of fire, something colder and stronger rose beneath us.
The river had its own rules. And we were in its grip now.
My head went under before I even had a chance to think. Then it spat me back up into a fury of white foam and black water.
I kicked and fought. I didn’t know which way was forward or back, but I searched for her. Always for her.
“Otter!”
There was a flicker of movement a few feet ahead. She was swimming, fighting the current to stay within reach, strong and steady. Her legs kicked harder, wiping the distance between us.
The roar grew louder.
Nothing else thundered like that. It had to be a waterfall.
“Dom!” she screamed, her voice hoarse but alive.
I reached for her, but the river yanked us apart again as another drop loomed ahead. We twisted through it like leaves in a storm drain. Sharp rocks grazed my thigh, but I didn’t feel the cut, just the heat that bloomed after.
Then—
“The branch!” she exclaimed.
