Page 204 of Ride the Sky

I’m here.

I have you.

Finally, Tripp clumsily turns and sets Fallon on the floor. Close enough to my cage that I can reach her. He glares at me as he shuts the door of her cage and disappears upstairs.

I wait a long second, hearing footsteps upstairs. The slam of the front door.

He’s gone. Fucking piece of shit.

“Fallon,” I gasp. I drop to my knees and crawl across to her. I thread my arm through one of the slotted diamonds and hold her wrist between my finger and thumb. Her pulse is thready and hammering. But she’s alive.

I exhale a shaky breath of relief. “Thank Christ.”

We have to get out of here.

I have to getherout of here.

One singular focus. Save Fallon.

My eyes lock on the keyring left behind by Tripp.

“Fucking idiot.” Groaning, I stretch my arm through the diamond hole, but they’re just out of reach. I turn my gaze to Fallon. My heart drops at the paleness of her face, the unsteady rise and fall of her chest.

“Wake up, Trouble,” I whisper. “Wake up so I can get you outta here.”

The sun is low. Late evening. Outside, the sky has a slow dying glow that would normally be quitting time on the ranch. Porch time with Fallon.

By now, we’ve almost been gone twenty-four hours. No doubt my brothers have a search party out on us. One thing’s damn sure, no one ever saw this coming.

I never liked Tripp, always knew he had the hots for Fallon, but to think he had this twisted shit inside him…

It’s fucked.

It terrifies me. If we’ll get out of this. If Fallon will blame herself.

We won’t walk away the same. But I’ll make sure she walks away. I’m her protector. She’s my girl. And over my dead fucking body will Tripp hurt her.

A soft moan pushes its way from Fallon’s throat.

Adrenaline floods my system. I scramble up, rip around and crawl toward her. “Baby? Fallon?”

I keep my eyes on hers. And after what feels like an eternity, those gorgeous hazel eyes finally flutter open.

I almost fucking lose it right then and there.

“Wyatt?” Fallon rasps. She’s ashen, her eyes rimmed with dark circles. Who knows what kind of drug he gave her.

“Easy,” I tell her as she groans. “He drugged you.”

“No shit.” Slowly, she sits up, her eyes swimming. “Oh,” she whispers, clutching at her head. “Fuck.”

Guilt crests over me. “Baby, I’m sorry.”

Her beautiful face clouds with anguished emotion. “This is not on you, Wyatt. Never.”

“We’re getting out of here.”

“How?”

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