Page 32 of Swept for Forever
She made the noise fall away.
“Autumn, you okay?” I asked, needing her voice.
She shifted against me, her grip tightening in answer. “I’m okay,” she murmured. “Are you?”
“Never better.” The words burned coming out, but saying them gave me a second wind.
The brush thinned, and there was less drag, which helped. I locked my arms tighter around her legs and found the rhythm. Step. Adjust. Breathe. Again. And again. I wasn’t letting her fall.
Then, through the ache and the branches, she stirred.
“Hey, Dom?”
“Yeah?”
“You ever think about how weird this is?”
I huffed. “Which part? The part where you got shanked by a shrub, or the part where I somehow became your Uber?”
She snorted. “The fact that you found me.”
“Lulu found you.”
“Butyoufollowed her.”
“Good instincts,” I said, panting. Sweat slid down my temples, but I couldn’t even swipe it off.
“Or fate.”
I didn’t answer. I just grunted. But that hit like a hand on your back when you didn’t know you needed one.
We kept going.
By the final stretch, she was barely holding on. Her grip had slackened, and her head tipped into my shoulder.
Then I saw it, the road.
“Autumn,” I said, my breath sawing in and out, “we’re almost there.”
My spine screamed. My lungs were shredded, but I let out a laugh anyway, rough and cracked, the sound a man makes not just from surviving the fight but winning it.
The narrow road marked the edge of the village. Still and quiet.
I set my pack down, then Autumn, too. I lowered her onto the grass as gently as my shaking legs would allow.
And finally,finally, I let myself breathe. Air surged erratically, and I braced my hands on my thighs, my head dipping forward as I fought to steady it. In. Out. Again.
My ribs still ached, and my lungs barely caught up. But I hadn’t forgotten why we were here.
I pressed the water bottle to Autumn’s lips, tilting it carefully as she took quavering sips. Her fingers barely curled around it, too weak to hold it herself.
“Easy,” I murmured.
She slumped against me, heavier now. Maybe her bodyhad finally given up on pretending to be fine. Her skin was too warm, her breaths uneven.
Lulu settled beside her, tail flicking, her ears twitching at every sound.
“All right, Lu. Stay like that,” I said, easing my arm out from under Autumn. I let her lean into Lulu’s side. “Good dog. Stay.”
