Chapter 45 Dom
DOM
The moment Spears dragged me toward the front of the lodge, I knew I had twenty, maybe thirty seconds, max.
They were planning to move me to somewhere with a signal, somewhere I could be forced to make the call they needed.
“Let’s go,” Spears barked. Pickle gripped my arm from behind.
They thought they had me. They thought I was done.
But they didn’t count on me still breathing—for her.
The second they shoved me into the back seat of Pickle’s car, I rolled, slammed the opposite door open, and bolted.
Spears, slow to react from the far side, lunged too late.
Pickle moved, but not faster than me. Outside, he might’ve been quick for his size. In a car, though? Big men didn’t pivot well, and I’d already clocked that weakness.
I sprinted for the lodge like hell itself snapped at my heels. I hit the porch, ripped the door open, and slammed it behind me.
A heavy console table stood nearby, so I dragged it over and slammed it against the door. Wood shrieked against wood. Then I shoved a chair under the knob, wedging it tight. It was not foolproof, but it might buy us enough time.
The handle rattled.
Once.
Twice.
Harder.
I didn’t wait. I took the stairs two at a time, my boots hammering against the worn boards.
The guard in the basement barely looked up before I was on him. After dealing with that ogre, this was nothing. I slammed a fist into his throat and drove a knee into his gut. He folded. He had a sloppy stance and poor instincts. Lucky me.
I dropped down to Autumn.
“Baby, you okay?” I asked, needing her voice. Her wrists were raw, her face pale, but her eyes…God, her eyes. They burned into mine like a stronghold. I hadn’t been this close to her in what felt like forever.
“Dom—” she croaked.
Glass shattered overhead, upstairs. Spears and Pickle weren’t far behind, and it was just a matter of time now.
She wriggled hard.
“Shh,” I said, brushing her cheek. Then I stepped back. I wouldn’t have time to set her free. Not yet.
I’d seen that the guard had a gun, and I was counting on it. I pulled it from his belt and braced for the fight, shielding Autumn with my body, the weapon steady in my hand.
But the boots never came. Instead, a different sound echoed down the hall—heavy scraping and something being dragged across the door.
They weren’t coming in.
They were trapping us in.
Smoke poured in from under the door in thin fingers.
“Shit!” I lunged for the handle. It was useless. Steel door and old lodge construction. It wasn’t budging.
“Dom!” Autumn gasped, twisting against the rope.
I was already there, slicing through the binds with the guard’s knife. My hands shook from adrenaline, rage, and raw terror. Meanwhile, smoke thickened fast, scraping our lungs raw.
“We have to move!” I rasped, hauling her upright.
She pointed up, coughing. “That window!”
It was high, small, and barely wide enough for a body. But it was all we had.
I boosted myself onto a crate and pried the latch with the butt of the gun. Cold air punched through the smoke.
Hope.
“Come on!” I hooked an arm around Autumn’s waist.
She didn’t wait, and I heaved her up toward the opening. She fought her own weight, bracing on my shoulder and scrabbling through. Her boots disappeared.
My turn.
It was tighter than a rabbit trap, and my shoulders barely fit. Smoke clawed after me as I muscled through.
Freedom hit me like a slap.
Oh, fuck!
The ledge we were standing on was barely wide enough for two feet side-by-side. Ten feet below was a river, its surface dark.
I pressed my back to the wall, my heart hammering in my ribs.
Otter stood solid beside me.
“Dom,” she said.
I glanced at her. She was too calm, too brave. My girl.
“You tell me you know what we’re doing,” I ground out.
She grinned—hell, she actually grinned—and grabbed my shirt. “Do you trust me, Dom?”
One look at her, and I was ready. “Hell yeah,” I replied.
She edged closer, her body fusing to mine. “Don’t let go,” she breathed.
Our arms locked tight.
And there was no margin for doubt.
The ledge crumbled beneath my boots as we pushed off and jumped.
The drop felt like forever, but I’d never felt closer to her. Her weight pressed into me, her breath caged tight.
For those few suspended seconds, the world blurred. There was nothing but the bare trust of someone betting everything on you. No courtroom. No safety net. Just gravity and her.
And if this were the end, I’d take it. Every damn second of it.
She held on with an unspoken plea, Don’t let go, and I didn’t plan to. Not until the river pulled us apart.
Cold slammed into my ribs, knifing through bruised muscle, and my breath tore from my lungs before I could even fight for it. Every part of me screamed—the cracked ribs, the battered shoulders, the fists Pickle had driven into my side. Water pressed down from all angles.
We kept sinking, down, down, deeper than I’d expected. I opened my eyes, my lungs already aching, and there she was! She was a few feet away, suspended in the dark blur, her hair waving.
I reached for her, my fingers scraping the current until I caught her arm. She was moving purposefully and pulling me with her, angling us sideways.
Jesus. This didn’t look like a river. This must’ve been a scour pool.
She’d known. How? I couldn’t tell you, but somehow, she’d planned for this.
I kicked harder, matching her rhythm. My lungs shrieked. Then, finally, light fractured above us. Otter tugged again, guiding me toward the bend where the depth shallowed.
But the victory didn’t last long. The crack of gunfire split the air behind us. They were reckless now, panicked, and there was no concern about what they’d hit. They didn’t hesitate to scrap their plan to make our deaths look like an accident.
We didn’t wait to see if they’d aim better the second time. We went under, our arms cutting the water.
The river pulled hard, the current relentless. But we let it.
Away. We had to get away. But as we slipped out of their line of fire, something colder and stronger rose beneath us.
The river had its own rules. And we were in its grip now.
My head went under before I even had a chance to think. Then it spat me back up into a fury of white foam and black water.
I kicked and fought. I didn’t know which way was forward or back, but I searched for her. Always for her.
“Otter!”
There was a flicker of movement a few feet ahead. She was swimming, fighting the current to stay within reach, strong and steady. Her legs kicked harder, wiping the distance between us.
The roar grew louder.
Nothing else thundered like that. It had to be a waterfall.
“Dom!” she screamed, her voice hoarse but alive.
I reached for her, but the river yanked us apart again as another drop loomed ahead. We twisted through it like leaves in a storm drain. Sharp rocks grazed my thigh, but I didn’t feel the cut, just the heat that bloomed after.
Then—
“The branch!” she exclaimed.
I turned my head. The sun beat down. But through the glare, up on the right, I spotted a thick branch drooping low over the riverbank.
She swam first, fighting the pull of the current while I pushed with everything I had left. We were so close.
Autumn stretched her arm, reaching for the branch.
She missed.
We were swept past.
“No—no no no!” she gasped, turning back to look at me.
I was struggling now, my limbs numb, my head underwater again. When I came up, I was coughing up water and choking on panic.
The river didn’t pull, it tore.
A scream of water and foam, dragging us through sharp bends and sudden drops with no mercy, no direction. I couldn’t feel the bruises anymore. Couldn’t tell which way was up. Just the roar in my ears as I fought to stay above the surface.
I twisted mid-current, searching for her.
She went under and came back up with a curse. I was close enough now to see the panic in her eyes and the sheer fight in every stroke.
“Dom!” she gasped. “We’ve got to—”
“There!” I shouted, pointing past her. There was another bend. Another branch.
It was lower.
But not by much.
I looked at her, then at it.
She didn’t have to say a word. I already knew. We were only going to get one more shot at this.
We kicked toward it, the roar behind us deafening. I clenched my jaw, every inch of me aching, battered, and near breaking.
It came into view. It was a rough bark with twisting limbs. Just close enough.
Without thinking, I surged forward, cupped her waist with both hands, and shoved her upward with everything I had left.
She caught the branch mid-motion and wrapped her arms tight around it. Her legs swung out over the water as the branch groaned, threatening to give. Then, she climbed, fast and desperate.
I reached for the same branch, but it was slippery, narrow, and cracking under her weight. My fingers barely took hold of the end.
It bent.
I dangled there, my feet skimming the current as I held on by instinct alone.
“Dom!” Her voice broke. “Grab higher…climb… please!”
But I couldn’t. The branch was going to snap.
And if I tried?
We’d both go under.
I looked up. She was crying and trembling, still holding on.
“Dom, don’t you dare—” Her voice cracked.
“I love you, Autumn,” I said. And I meant it with every busted rib and broken breath I had left.
Then I let go.