ChapterNine
Sunny sucked in a breath of loamy air, her arms and legs numb and heavy. She needed to move. This guy was on her, would kill her any second.
Blinking to clear the pain pounding in her head, she punched at the dark shadow coming to her. Why was it so dark? He grabbed her hands, and she jerked away.
“Sunny, it’s me, Davis,” the shadow whispered so low she almost couldn’t hear it over the loud ringing in her ears, but that made little sense.
She shook her head.
It was a ploy.
He was trying to trick her.
As he reached for something off to the side, she bunched to explode. She wouldn’t go down, dazed like an idiot. He moved his hand up to his face, shining the small flashlight on him. Davis Fields’s handsome face had a dark, scruffy beard hiding his dimples. His hair had grown longer since last fall, but his dark, storm-gray eyes pierced her the same. Every muscle relaxed on a whooshed sob.
“Davis?”
How was he here?
This had to be a dream. She reached out to him to see if he was real. The touch of his fingers on hers shattered the last of her fight, and she launched herself into his arms.
He was here.
She wasn’t alone.
She was safe.
“Shh, Firefly. We’re not out of danger yet.” His calm whisper of his nickname for her against her ear brought all her walls back up.
He might be here with her now, but he hadn’t called like he said he would. Hadn’t responded to her texts after she’d left Kentucky. He’d well and truly ghosted her, so throwing herself at the man just proved her pathetic nature.
Granted, she’d just witnessed her friend’s murder, been chased by men bent on killing her, and fought harder than she’d ever fought before in her life. So, hugging the man who had probably just saved her was simply gratitude.
Lingering in the hug?
Pure, selfish desire.
Which she needed to squash.
She pushed away from him. “What’s going on? Where are we?”
When his hands smoothed up her back, her insides warmed like a Care Bear, from the old VHS tapes her mom had let them watch growing up, when they did that belly shine thing. Nope. She couldn’t let those buzzing, warm feelings happen, not with Davis.
Not again.
She sat back and pulled her knees into her chest. The flash of hurt on Davis’s face was quick, but she still caught it. Too bad if her pulling away hurt him. She dashed her fingers over her cheeks, wiping away the last of the tears. If they weren’t safe, she had to stay alert.
He tipped his head to the side and turned to peer out a bunch of roots crisscrossing over the opening. She did a quick assessment of their surroundings, wondering how he found this tight alcove, and crawled up beside him. At the base of the hill, the two men who had killed Justin and chased her talked while they walked back and forth along the decayed leaves left from last fall. The shooter twirled her handkerchief around his finger as he paced.
She touched her neck. How had the thing even fallen off? She glared at Davis’s profile. How had he subdued her? She cringed at the headache pounding on her left temple and turned back to the men below. She’d get answers from Davis later. What mattered at that moment was if the men found their trail.
The shooter glanced up, and she held her breath. What would they do if the men climbed the hill? She hated not knowing what the terrain and their situation was.
The other man shouted, tearing the shooter’s gaze from finding their hiding spot. They both studied the leaves, the shooter’s friend pointing at what he thought was a trail. The shooter nodded and tipped his head the way his friend pointed. After scanning the hillside, then his back trail, the shooter followed his friend into the willows.
Sunny exhaled and scampered away from the roots until her back pressed to the dirt wall of the overhang. They had bought some time. Should they move now or wait? She ran her shaking hands through her hair, cringing when dirt sprinkled her face.
“What the heck are you doing here, Sunny?” Davis turned a quarter of a turn, his face creased in anger.