Page 75 of Survive the Night
“Right.” She handed him the lead rope after Otto closed the outhouse—fake outhouse—door. “I forgot that they’re usually roomies.”
They walked in silence for a few moments before Otto asked, “What happened?”
“They blew up your house,” she said, her stomach twisting as she remembered the black skeleton enveloped by orange and red flames. “I’m sorry.”
Otto didn’t respond for several moments, and Sarah felt tears sting her eyes. It had been such a beautiful house. Finally, he spoke, his voice rough. “You saved them all.”
“I couldn’t get to the chickens.” Sarah bit her lip. “I probably should’ve gone outside and at least let them out, but I was scared Aaron’s men hadn’t left or were waiting right outside the barn to grab me.”
“No, they’re safest in their coop,” Otto assured her. “There’s plenty of food and the waterer’s heated, so they’ll be fine for a few days while we get all this”—he waved a hand, encompassing the entire horrible situation in one gesture—“under control.”
“I’m sorry,” she said again. “This is my fault. If I hadn’t come here—”
Otto put a hand on the back of her neck, and she went silent. “It’s not your fault,” he said. “And I’m very glad you came here.”
“You are?” She just couldn’t believe that, even with the reassuring weight of his hand on her. “Everything’s on fire, and your house is gone.”
“Sarah.” He stopped by the big workshop door and turned toward her. “Buildings and mountain passes can be rebuilt. As long as you’re safe, I’m grateful.”
She blinked, overwhelmed. “Oh.”
Otto gave her that slow smile again and opened the door. It rattled as it went up, making Sarah jump. Otto turned on a small flashlight and led Bean into the shop. After hesitating in the entrance for a brief moment, Bean plodded after him. Poor guy, Sarah thought as she walked in behind them, Xena right next to her. Bean must be even more exhausted than she was. Hortense followed them in. Grabbing the hanging rope, Sarah lowered the door.
It was too loud, seeming to ring through the night, and it made her cringe. She breathed out in relief once it was down. The shop was rough, with a dirt floor and unfinished walls. Just a workbench on one wall changed it from a “shed” to a “workshop,” but it would work for Bean and Hortense. As Theo had predicted, there was a small stack of alfalfa hay bales stacked against one wall. Hortense immediately walked over and helped herself to a bite.
Grabbing an empty bucket, Sarah brought it to the spigot next to the workbench and filled it with water. Xena followed, getting a drink as it flowed in. Otto unclipped the lead rope from Bean’s halter and opened one of the hay bales, cutting the twine holding it together before pocketing his knife.
Sarah moved the full bucket over by the hay and then stepped away as both Bean and Hortense crowded in to drink. Xena waited until the other two had finished before taking her second turn at the bucket. Leaning her shoulder against the wall, Sarah watched them, feeling both exhausted and triumphant. She’d gotten all the animals to Otto safely. Now they just needed to save the town from her brother.
“I wish they could join us in the bunker where it’s warmer,” she said as Otto walked over to her.
“They’d hate it down there.” He gave her a small, tired smile. “Horses and goats like it colder than we do. As long as they have protection from the elements and hay in front of them, they’ll be happy.”
With that worry soothed, Sarah’s thoughts jumped back to their messed-up situation. “What’s the plan?”
Otto pulled off his gloves and rubbed a hand over his face. “Still need to come up with one.”
Sarah couldn’t resist. She took his bare hand in hers. “We’ll figure it out. You’re safe. The rest is easy.”
His smile was tired but still gorgeous. “That’s exactly what I was thinking. You’re safe. That’s all that matters.” He hesitated, watching her intently. “I really do love you.”
The words sent a warm thrill through her. It was one thing for him to say it in the heat of the moment, right after he’d realized that she was alive and unhurt. For him to tell her now, in the relative safety of the workshop, meant that he hadn’t said it merely because emotions were running high. The way he looked at her, his gaze steady and unwavering, erased all doubts. He meant what he said.
Squeezing his hand, she looked back at him, trying to project that same confidence. So much of her life had been about hiding what she felt, about presenting a calm front, pretending that the ever-present danger and fear didn’t bother her. Now, she wanted to do the opposite. She wanted Otto to see how she felt, to believe her as she believed him.
“I love you, too.”
Otto smiled, and she knew that it had worked. He’d seen that she meant the words with everything inside her.
Leaning down, he kissed her lightly. She caught the back of his head and held him there, needing more than just a peck. She hadn’t been sure if she would ever see him again, hadn’t known if he was even alive. A simple, gentle kiss was not nearly enough.
Otto seemed to agree. He intensified the kiss, pressing more firmly against her as his lips parted. She met his tongue with hers, and he groaned deep in his chest. Otto kissed her harder, deeper, almost wildly, as if he needed to dive into her or he would die. Sarah knew she felt that way. Kissing him wasn’t just something she wanted. She needed it, needed him, with a bone-deep instinct that made her clutch his hand and the back of his head, desperate for him not to pull away.
His arm wrapped around her, tugging her close, their joined hands locked between their bodies. Their kisses grew frantic. Even though she now knew Otto was alive, all of her earlier fears, all the shocks and horrors she’d encountered welled up inside her, pressing to get out. He was the only one who could make her feel like everything would turn out okay, despite the terrible things that had happened.
She couldn’t get close enough to him, but she didn’t want to let go of his hand in order to clutch him more tightly to her. From the way he was holding her, she knew he felt the same way. The workshop, the animals, the snowstorm, the whole nightmare of a night faded, and there was only Otto—his huge, hard body and his amazingly gentle hands. Too soon, he pulled away, breathing hard.
“We should get into the bunker,” he said, his voice rough and reluctant.
