After admitting what her brother did to her and seeing the raw pain in her eyes—the terror that one day he is going to catch up to her—the sadness that clings to her like a second skin makes so much more sense now.
She’s a wild animal that has entered survival mode and doesn’t know how to live any other way. And it’s drivingmefucking wild.Mi sta facendo uscire pazzo, porca miseria.
The rage I felt in that moment of her confession was blinding, and not for a single fucking second has it let up since. All I can think about is how to make her pain go away. The near-obsessive need to search down the fucker and bash his head in until there’s nothing left is all-consuming.
He’s still haunting her, and all I can feel is rage becauseshe’s fucking mine.
But that's the goddamn problem, isn't it? She's made it more than clear she doesn't actually want that. She will always bite the hand that feeds her because she's more comfortable being starved when it's all she's ever known.
I’m charging toward the front door, swinging it open, and storming toward the cave before I process what I’m doing and why. I just… need to talk to her. I've had enough of the fucking silence.
I’m so lost in my head that I don’t even remember walking to the cave or getting down into it. But I draw short, confused when I realize she’s not in here.
“Sawyer?” I call, my voice bouncing off the stone walls and echoing.
She doesn’t answer. Instantly, all my furious thoughts come to a screeching halt, and my mind goes deadly silent. Something is wrong.
I call her name again, louder and more urgently, except she still doesn’t answer. My eyes frantically search around the cave, my head swiveling in every direction.
My eyes bypass a tunnel far in the back of the cave and then quickly snap back to it. I beeline for it, continuing to call for her. It’s darker back here and curses spill from my mouth because I don’t have a goddamn flashlight to see properly.
“I swear to fucking God, you better be alive,” I spit, coming up to a cavern that drops down several feet.
I can't see anything from here, but I don't have any choice but to feel my way down. I take it as slow as I’m physically capable of, which isn't very slow when there's a little siren who could possibly be hurt.
“Sawyer!” I call again, just as I reach the bottom. No answer.
Sweat beads along my hairline, despite how much cooler it is down here. I plant my hands along the cave wall and feel my way through. A blue hue begins to form, making it easier to see. I come out to another opening, glowworms scattered across the ceiling.
There.
My gaze instantly finds her, laid out on the floor and unconscious.
My heart drops. “Motherfucker.”
I rush to her, feeling like my chest is caved in as I crouch down and gently lift her head, blood instantly coating my hand. Head wounds can bleed profusely regardless of the severity, but I need to get her to the lighthouse and assess the damage properly.
“Cazzo, che cazzo hai fatto?” I ramble, immediately feeling for a pulse. It’s strong, and she’s breathing, but I have no idea how long she’s been out for.
“Wake up,bella. Let me see those eyes.”
She doesn’t move, and my panic deepens.
There's a flashlight next to her fingertips, so I quickly grab it and switch it on.
“Sawyer, I need you to wake up,” I say, opening one of her eyelids and shining the light directly into it.
A groan filters from her mouth, and a moment later, she’s twisting her head out of my hold.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” I mutter, relief overcoming me when she mumbles, “What happened?”
“You fell. I need you to sit up so I can get us out of here,” I tell her, urging her up. She groans again but sits up.
“Come here, baby,” I whisper, gathering her tiny body against my chest. “I need you to hold on to me very tightly. Don’t let go.”
“Goddamn, I’m still not dead yet?” she whines, and Christ, I’m going to fucking spank her the second she recovers. “It feels like my head is splitting in half. Maybe I need to give it a few more seconds before the Lord takes me.”
Groaning, she slings her arms around my neck while I arrange her onto my back, her thighs coiled around my hips. She tightens them, crossing her feet while I stand.