Page 24 of Mountain Defender

“Oh, it’s perfect.” Pleasure brightens her gaze. “I can’t wait to cuddle up on the couch with the—” She stops. “Would it be okay if the dogs got up on the couch?”

“Of course. Whatever you want.”

More tension drains from her features. “Okay. So maybe I’ll take a quick shower, then a nap. And I know the doctor said not too much TV, but there’s this docuseries on Nat Geo that I’ve been wanting…” Her smile dips. “Sorry. I’m sure you’re ready to get going. I’ve taken up enough of your day already.”

“No.” My response is more forceful than intended. At Rory’s startled look, I amend, “I wasn’t going to leave you, Ror. Not when you just got out of the hospital. Not unless you… Well. I could text Winter or Lark, ask them to come over.”

“No, no.” She shakes her head, wincing as she does it. “That’s okay. They already did so much, getting the cabin all set. But don’t you have work to do?”

Actually, yes. I have a deadline coming up for some new flight simulator mods I’m supposed to test. And I’m supposed to be researching drones so GMG can buy one for remote surveillance.

That’s not including a more personal and pressing matter—my prosthetic, which I’ve been wearing for over twenty-four hours. I never wear it this long, and I badly need to give my leg a break. But I couldn’t exactly do that while protecting Rory in the hospital.

Ishouldgo home and take care of all of those things.

It would be fine. My house is literally a minute’s drive away.

But.

I don’t want to leave her.

“I was thinking,” I say slowly, sorting through my thoughts as I speak. “I could run home, grab a quick shower, and comeback with my laptop. So I can hang here and get some work done while you nap. Would that be okay with you?”

Rory stares at me. She swallows hard. Then she nods.

The relief in her eyes is almost my undoing.

“If you don’t mind,” she replies quietly, “I’d really like it if you’d stay.”

“Of course.” And before I can stop myself, I give her a quick hug. “I’d be happy to.”

CHAPTER 5

RORY

I can’t seehis face.

It’s just black, a yawning darkness broken by two gleaming orbs of white.

Hot breath comes in heavy puffs. Sour. Garlicky. A hint of fire stings my nose.

My heart is thundering. Skipping beats. Slamming against my chest in a frantic bid to escape.

Pressure—painful, punishing, cruel—holds me still, despite my struggles.

I’m kicking. Wriggling. Bucking. Nothing works.

I try to scream but nothing comes out.

My lungs beg for air.

Panicked thoughts whirl through my head, scattered and fractured.

Get away! Leave me alone! I need to do something!

Silent words I can’t give voice to. Desperate pleas that go unanswered.

Please! I don’t want to die.

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