There was nothing but silence and he clenched his jaw in frustration. How the hell did you communicate with your mind? How did he even know if he was able to talk to her the same way she’d just spoken to him? He didn’t even know if she was cognizant of the fact that he’d picked up on those desperate thoughts.
His teammates’ faces came into view as he neared the edge. Their expressions were tense as they hauled him the remaining distance. Diego pushed forward while Decker and Browning held tight to the rope and he took Grace from Rio’s grasp.
Free of her weight, Rio hoisted himself over the side and he rolled to his feet. Terrence let out a light huff, his only indication of the toll the rescue had taken on him. Rio quickly untied the rope and issued orders for his men to dispose of the bodies and then to be prepared to bug out.
They were in the middle of nowhere, no backup, no helo, their vehicles at least two miles away.
He strode to where Diego had laid Grace carefully on the ground and he dropped to his knees beside her.
He pushed the hair out of her face with gentle fingers and frowned at the deep shadows under her eyes, the paleness of her features, and the deep lines of fatigue etched into her forehead. Her expression was grim even in unconsciousness.
Not knowing what possessed him, he found himself leaning down to press his lips to her forehead.
You don’t give up, Grace. You’re safe now. I won’t hurt you and I won’t allow anyone else to do so either. I’m going to take you home.
SUNLIGHT warmed her face, though she was in the grip of a pervasive chill that was bone deep. It hurt to shiver and yet she couldn’t do anything else.
It was as if there were weights pressing over her eyelids, preventing them from opening. Or perhaps she simply lacked the strength to do the simplest tasks anymore.
Pain crept over her, through her, puzzling her with its intensity. It was new. Fresh. And then she remembered falling over the side, sure that death had finally come to claim her.
A soft moan escaped before she could call it back and she chastised herself for that momentary loss of control. Such a lapse could get her killed.
Grace. Grace.
It took her a moment to realize that the person calling her name wasn’t saying it aloud but in her mind. She recoiled, wanting nothing to do with the distant voice. And then she was surrounded by strength. Warmth. It flooded into her veins so comforting that it shook her to her core.
“Grace.”
This time it was said aloud. A deep, rough, slightly accented voice. Just a hint of another world, one she couldn’t place.
“Wake up, Grace. Let me see those gorgeous baby blues.”
Her brow wrinkled and she tried to process her surroundings. She was afraid to open her eyes. Afraid that she’d be right back in the hands of monsters, forced to do their bidding. The mere thought made her want to weep. She wasn’t strong enough to endure more.
A gentle hand stroked over her cheek and carefully pushed away her hair, tucking it over her ear. Such warmth and tenderness. It was like rain to a sun-parched desert. She soaked it up, desperate for any comfort.
It took everything she had to conquer her fear and open her eyes. Sunlight stabbed through her vision, momentarily blinding her.
“That’s it,” the man said in a low voice. “Come back to me, Grace. I need you to wake up so we can figure out how badly you’re hurt.”
At the mere mention of injuries, pain screamed through her body. Her eyes flew open and her lips parted. Her breath rushed out, her chest jerking violently with the effort.
Fear nearly paralyzed her when her gaze met with the dark eyes of a man staring intently at her. She let out a cry and tried to bolt, not even realizing that he was still holding her.
She tumbled to the ground, landing with a thud that knocked the breath from her and sent agony tearing through her body again.
The man above her cursed vehemently and he immediately knelt beside her, running those big hands over her fragile body.
“Damn it, Grace, I’m not going to hurt you.”