There was a chance she was over-analyzing everything and he just meant he didn’t want her to get crushed to death under the stairwell she’d just proclaimed so beautiful.
He cleared his throat, rising to his feet, and held his hand out to pull her up. “We’re not safe here. Let’s see if there’s a basement or something that isn’t going to collapse around our heads.”
“Isn’t a basement the last place we want to be? The whole house will fall on us!” She struggled to her feet, staring in horror at the devastation around them. If fate had been against them just a bit, they would have been under that pile of rubble. She started to shake, suddenly more afraid than she had been their entire adventure, unsure where, even, to put one foot in front of another.
It had only taken her almost getting killed to put the right amount of fear in her. She wasn’t her brightest, at the moment. She stared around her, panicked.
Sawyer misread her terror as disappointment. “We’ll have to explore later, Buttercup. Can’t have you getting crushed if this place comes crashing down around our ears.”
Lest he think her a coward, she tucked her fear way down deep where she could pretend to ignore it. “Can’t have me getting crushed? But it’s perfectly fine for you?”
“If you’re crushed, I’d lose my reason for living.” He blinked, as if realizing what he’d said, and quickly added, “And plus, if you’re gone, who’s left to protect me?”
She returned his nervous smile, mentally picking up her broken heart pieces and taping them back together as she backed away from Sawyer. “Very true. Lead on, fearful knight. Find us a basement.”
“Don’t you mean fearless knight?” he asked, passing her, grabbing her hand and interlacing his fingers with hers. They’d held hands like that a thousand times, maybe a million, but never without Beckett breathing down their necks. It felt terrifying and wonderful and bad, all at the same time.
“I meant what I said,” she teased. At his scowl, she rearranged her face into one of perfect seriousness. “I think this must have been the parlor. The kitchen would be toward the back of the house.”
“And we are looking for the kitchen… why?” he asked, detouring around what had once been the staircase to the dark, mostly hidden hallway.
“Look at these sconces. They’re beautiful!” She stopped, tugging him to a stop with her, and rose up on her toes, trying to get a better look. She could feel those gray eyes on her, and her skin erupted in delicious shivers. She glanced at him, saw him hide a smile, and said, “Basements are usually entered through the kitchen. Are they not?”
“Not in Texas. Mine was entered through a bedroom.”
“Well that’s just weird. Come on.” He chuckled as she dragged him through the dark, emerging on the other side. “This is not a kitchen.”
“Nope.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I think this is the sun room.”
They explored in silence for several more minutes, the only thing louder than the storm bellowing outside was her heart hammering against her ribs. She was also astounded by the forgotten beauty of this massive house — once obviously grand and luxurious. But that took second on her attention ladder. First and foremost, as always, was Sawyer.
“So… what’s in your dream house?” she asked as they wandered through dust and broken floorboards. Outside, lightning continually lit up the sky, seeming to strike right outside the windows, and with every growl of thunder, she half-expected the rest of the house to fall in on them. They didn’t get storms like this in Utah, at least not that she’d ever seen.
“Funny you ask — it’s actually very similar to yours.” He was watching out the window, too, his brow creased with concern, but his voice was calm — no hint of worry or fear.
He must have forgotten about the zombies.
“Log cabin on a lake. Fireplace in my bedroom. No one for miles and miles but the woman I love.”
Heaven. He has just described heaven. And she would sell her soul to be that woman. Stifling a lovesick sigh, she stumbled through the side door and found her way to the kitchen.
“Right at the back, like you thought,” Sawyer said. “Smart girl.” And he winked like it didn’t send her knees crashing into her toes or her breath catching in her throat.
“I—I am a smart girl. Look for a basement entrance.”
“It might be outside. If it is, we’re stuck in here.” They both risked a look again through the windows, but there was zero visibility beyond the furious storm. She wondered if it was possible to drown in the rain. It wasn’t something she wanted to find out with personal experimentation.
“Agreed.” Reluctantly, she let go of his hand so they could search the kitchen. The floors were once hardwood, but now they were rotting. Her foot sank through one, of course, because she hadn’t made it clear just how very accident-prone she was yet this evening. She screeched as the sharp edges dug into her ankle, sounding very much like an angry harpy eagle.
Sawyer was instantly by her side. “Are you okay?” he asked, dropping to his knees so he could break back the board and free her foot. “You’re bleeding. We’ll probably have to get you a tetanus shot. And you’re lucky this isn’t my favorite shirt, or I’d let that blood ruin your running shoes.” Savannah watched him, intrigued. He rambled and talked very fast when he was stressed.
She pulled a face. “You’re very kind, Sawyer.”
He nodded, sliding his hand up her calf, checking for more injuries.
Oh holy snowballs. I’m going to melt right here on this spot.
His hand lingered, gentle fingers stroking down her skin. “I think you’re okay,” he said softly.
She bit her lip and nodded, staring down at him. Please kiss me. Please kiss me. Please kiss me.
Clearing his throat, he sat back on his heels, tearing more shirt. “You’ll notice that I have yet to get even one injury, and you now have two. Remember this the next time you’re trying to call me klutzy.”
“Will do. However, I’d like to point out that you cut yourself on the broken window.” She clenched her fingers at her side, lest they gain control and run themselves through his hair.
“You okay?” he asked, ignoring her pathetic attempts at evening the wound score as he stood, hands on her hips to steady her as she took tentative steps forward.
“Yeah, I think so.” Plaster rained down on them as the walls moaned and creaked. “This is seriously not the greatest place to be trapped in a hurricane.”
“Agreed. Let’s find that door.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
LIGHTNING SHOT THROUGH THE SKY, thunder following immediately after. The house shrieked like Death itself was at the door. Savannah threw up her hands to protect her head as plaster rained down on them. “I think the house is going to fall in on us. We’re going to have to brave the storm, Sawyer. The basement won’t be safe if the whole house collapses.”
Sawyer shook his head, pointing vaguely at the cracked kitchen window. “You don’t understand how hurricanes work, Buttercup. There’s flooding out there. Mudslides. It’s dangerous. Haven’t you ever had a massive storm in Utah?”
She shrugged. “It’s Utah. We have the world’s worst weather for fifteen minutes, then we get the sun back for at least a half hour before another storm hits.”
He raised an eyebrow. “That’s normal? I thought you guys were just having a really weird year.”
She smiled, shaking her head. “Nope. It’s normal.”
Thunder shook the house again, and the already crumbling walls cracked. Some fell, others looked dangerously close. “What do we do?” she asked, unconsciously edging closer to Sawyer. He took her hand, running his thumb over her palm. It was only now occurring to her that they were in a very dangerous situation. She’d been so busy fawning all over the old house and the hot guy she was trapped there with, she’d completely overlooked the threat that they could be seriously injured. Or even killed. Holy creak.
“Sawyer? I’m scared.”
Sawyer shrugged, tugging her across the broken floor. “I was scared the minute you made me climb in this place. I’m sure it’s haunted.”
She frowned at the back of his head, picking her way across the floor, her newest wound stinging and aching. Awesome. “That’s not why I’m scared.”
He grinned over his shoulder. “Then you’re braver than me.” He swung open what Savannah had thought was a closet door, because it was very thin and very small. Instead, it was the basement entrance she’d spent the last half hour looking for. “I don’t like basements. Or the dark.”
“It’s a good thing you’re cute, Sawyer. Otherwise,” she raised an eyebrow, considering him, “I’m not sure how well you’d do with the ladies.”
His jaw dropped and she smiled, sliding past him to take the lead. “Luckily, I have a flashlight app on my phone. We’re good until the battery dies.”
“You have your phone?”
She nodded, starting cautiously down the stairs. They were long, and she couldn’t even see the bottom. “Aaron’s, too.”
“Why the hell didn’t you call to let anyone know where we are?”
She stopped, holding her phone out to him. “There’s no service here.”
Behind them, the wall collapsed, and the entire house groaned, shifting weight. “We can talk about this later. Move!”
She whirled around, racing down the stairs, wondering if she was as stupid as horror movie girls, running down into the unknown instead of out and away. But there hadn’t been a clear, safe path outside, and then they would have to fight the elements. So she ran, leaping over broken stairs, as the house shrieked and caved behind them. “I’m not sure this is safer!” she yelled.
“It’s stable against the ground. It’s safer than being out in that storm.” She could barely hear him over the house and the howling wind. But she got the general idea, which meant run. Down the stairs as fast as she could go.
She realized, when she bashed her head on a low hanging board in the exact place she’d hit it earlier, that it was important to watch where she was going. The world spun, which, she thought crazily, was odd — who knew complete darkness could spin? Her legs gave way and she remembered screaming, right before she bounced down the stairs like a rag doll.
And ended in a lake.
She gasped, the cold water shocking her back to her senses far better than the tumble down the stairs did. “Savannah!” Sawyer landed next to her, the water splashing up over her head, into her mouth and eyes. And then he was scooping her up, cradling her against him. “Buttercup? Baby? Tell me you’re okay. Talk to me, sweetheart.” He was trembling, and his heart pounded so hard in his chest she could feel it against her arm.
He’s never called me Baby before.
“We’ve got to get out of here. The storm can’t be worse than this place.”
Now he thinks the storm is safer. He couldn’t have decided that before I fell? If her head hadn’t hurt so bad, she would have rolled her eyes.
He turned to go up the stairs, still holding her tight. They made it up two steps. On the third, the staircase crumbled, falling sideways and collapsing into the water. Sawyer and Savannah went with it.
More boards, more banging, more injuries. She went under, Sawyer on top of her, and she stupidly tried to scream, but her mouth just filled with water. Her arms and legs thrashed as she fought her way to her feet.
Sawyer jerked her up, out of the water. She gasped and coughed, choking on stale water. Everything hurt. “Are you okay? Buttercup? Are you okay?” He bent down, brushing the back the hair plastered to her face.
She nodded, still coughing.
“Shit. You’re all bloody.”
“You—you’re not so—hot yourself,” she gasped between coughs.
Sawyer cracked the barest hint of a smile. Still holding her, he sloshed across the dark basement and set her on top of an old furnace, safely out of the water.
She could barely see him in the darkness, and the storm above was muted. It felt safe in this freezing basement full of water. The thought made her giggle.
He raised an eyebrow, clearly beginning to doubt her sanity.
“There’s light coming from somewhere. If we can find it…” He sloshed across the room, scanning the ceiling, until she couldn’t make him out in the shadows. Suddenly, the basement didn’t feel so safe anymore.
“I thought you said we couldn’t brave the storm.” Her head hurt. Her shoulder and elbow hurt. She felt like she’d been hit by a very angry truck. All she wanted was to go home. It was only, like, a forty-five minute run. Surely they could brave the storm for that long?
The storm is taking down an entire house. You really think you can handle it?
Oh yeah. Good point.
“It might be better to just stay in here until the storm passes…” Sawyer was muttering from the darkness. “But it’s damn cold.”
Aaron’s phone had been in her jeans pocket and hadn’t gotten as wet as hers. She pressed the on button and raised it up, relieved by the dim light. She could see Sawyer again, and a bit of the basement. “There’s a crack here… but it’s not big enough to get out of,” Sawyer said, poking at the ceiling.
“Hey.” Savannah jumped off the furnace and into the icy water. “There’s a door over here.”
“Good. We have to get out of here. The water’s rising.”
Well. That wasn’t alarming at all.
This house that she’d been so excited to see had turned into something from a horror movie. All that was missing was a man with a chainsaw and a creepy mask. Shivering, she shoved that thought out of her mind before she caused widespread panic.
She waded across the room, holding Aaron’s phone up to light her path. She heard Sawyer coming behind her, his much longer legs making easier progress than hers. “That’s a big door,” he said when they stopped in front of it.
Big was an understatement. It looked like it was made of metal, and it towered over Sawyer’s six-foot frame. “This doesn’t fit in this old house at all,” Savannah said, frowning. Except frowning moved the gash in her head, which stung and ached and complained. She quickly stopped with the frown. “This house… there’s not… this looks modern.”
“Maybe it was added later?” Sawyer traced the frame, looking for a way to open it.
“That’s weird. Sawyer.” She pointed. “There’s a latch.”
He straightened, grinning sheepishly. “Right.” Of course, the latch didn’t want to open. The door looked newer than the rest of the house, but the handle was rusted from disuse and humidity.
Sawyer grabbed a pipe half-floating against the wall and used it to scrape the rust off. He dropped the pipe back into the water and tugged again on the latch. “It won’t budge.”
“Wait. I have an idea.” Savannah grabbed the pipe again and shoved it in between the lever handles. “Smart girl,” Sawyer said, getting out of her way. Savannah threw all her weight against the pipe. Her shoulder and elbow screamed, and she gasped, dropping her tool. Whimpering like a kicked puppy, she cradled her arm.
“Let me help.” Sawyer took the pipe, stuck it into the latch, and pushed. His weight was considerably more than her weight, but she liked to think she loosened it a bit when it finally creaked and groaned, the metal screaming as it dragged across other metal. The door popped open, just an inch or so, but the water escaped through it like a drain, and the force slammed it shut again.
Sawyer swore. Savannah waded across the room, looking for something to help with. The best she could find was a rusted shovel. Fighting her way back to Sawyer, she tucked Aaron’s phone, their only source of light, into her bra to keep it out of the water and free up her hands.
The flooded basement, her many runs through the day, and her falls and bumps and bruises… suddenly, she was exhausted. “I’m getting really tired,” she murmured, holding a hand to her head. Sawyer glanced over, alarmed.
“Stay awake for me, baby. We’ll find you somewhere safe to lay down in a li
ttle bit, okay?”
Baby.
She nodded and raised her shovel.
Again, Sawyer fought to pull the latch back. When he finally succeeded, she jammed the shovel in the gap, holding it open while the water rushed out. Sawyer wedged his shoulder in, then pushed, groaning, until Savannah could squeeze through. He followed and the door slammed behind them.
She found herself in a little ditch, slanted so that the escaped water rushed down toward a far wall. Of course, she tumbled along with it, because what fun would it be to go safely anywhere in this monster house. Sawyer, too, got caught and lost his balance. She could see a drop off, and pictured in her mind a huge waterfall and being flung to her death. She screamed as she went over… and landed on a metal grate about four feet down. Sawyer landed next to her, and using her cat-like reflexes, she grabbed his arm to keep him upright. They climbed up the embankment, out of the water, to dry land. Savannah thought briefly that it would be wonderful to kiss the dirt, but she was too tired and too sore to bend or kneel.
“What the hell is this place?” Sawyer breathed. She looked up at him, but his eyes were focused completely behind her. Turning slowly, she gasped.
It was an underground city.
“Holy creak.”
It was made of rough-hewn brick, pale white. The back walls looked to be carved out of the cave walls. A brick street ran down the middle of at least five little rooms on each side. “I can’t even… am I really seeing this?” Sawyer asked, but he didn’t wait for a response, wandering toward the street as if in a trance.
“How are we seeing this? Where’s the light coming from?” Savannah asked, following Sawyer but staring up at the ceiling. “This is a cave, I think. Insane.” There were shafts above them that let in light, but she couldn’t figure out why the rain didn’t get through, too. And it was so dark out. Why was there light?
“It looks safe here, Savvy. Why don’t you lay down for a while and rest? It’s gotta be past midnight.”
He didn’t have to tell her twice. Sawyer briefly glanced in all the little rooms around them to make sure they were alone and came back to the first one, guiding her inside. “Do you think they’re looking for us?” she asked, ducking through the small doorway. There was a burned spot in the corner, that she would guess was where cooking had been done at some point. Or maybe a fire for warmth. It was chilly in here, but probably not as cold as outside. Or the ice box basement they’d just escaped.
Star Crossed Hurricane Page 6
