Chapter 7 #4
Her thighs burned, but she kept pace. Her breath steady. Controlled.
Thirty minutes later they came to the narrow wash. A dry riverbed now swollen with runoff. Chocolate brown. Churning. The opposite bank was only about ten feet away. But the water was moving fast.
Noah dropped his pack, then grabbed a sizable stick and walked to the water’s edge. He poked at the ground under the water—testing depth, checking for holes. The water swallowed Noah from the knees down, tugging at him. But he didn’t even sway.
He made his way back. “Should be easy enough, but it’s swift and the current is strong. Lose your footing and you’ll be fifty feet downstream before you can blink.”
He paused. Met Meg’s eyes. “Meg, you’re lightest—it’ll hit you harder.”
Meg stepped forward. Chin up. “I can handle it.”
Could she?
Noah shook his head, his tone firm but kind. “Not worth the risk.”
Liam lifted Noah’s pack from the ground, slung it over his own shoulder. “I’ll take this. You carry her.”
“If I remember right”—Teague tilted his head, grinning—“you lost your pack in your last river crossing. Maybe I should carry it.”
Liam rolled his eyes. “Hilarious. You take Meg’s. And let’s get this done. It’s all bringing back bad memories.”
Bad memories. Nimue. The Bratva. Another wash. Another desperate crossing.
Noah nodded, turned to Meg. “Climb on my back. I’ll get you across.”
Meg hesitated, pride warring with practicality.
The water churned, brown and relentless.
She wasn’t weak. She’d kept up this far. Hadn’t complained. But Noah was right. Compared to the guys, she was small. And if the current swept her off her feet, then this would turn into a rescue.
She met his gaze—steady and calm. Patient.
She nodded. Acceptance. Trust.
She handed her bag to Teague and climbed onto Noah’s back, her arms looping around his shoulders, her legs tucked against his sides. His warmth cut through the chill of her wet clothes.
Noah adjusted his grip under her knees. Stepped into the wash. The water hit his shins. Then his calves. Rising. But he moved steadily, testing each step.
Teague and Liam followed.
“You okay back there?” Noah’s voice was low over the water’s roar.
“Yeah.” Meg’s chin was near his ear. “This is the warmest I’ve been in an hour.”
He chuckled, the sound vibrating through his back. “Any anxiety?”
Her chest was calm, her breathing even. No tightness. No racing heart. She trusted Noah. His strength. His careful steps.
“No.” Her voice was soft, surprised. “I’m okay.”
“Good to hear.” He shifted her weight slightly.
Her throat tightened. Not with panic but with something warmer. Softer. Noah’s belief in her, his calm presence, grounded her. Made her feel capable instead of broken.
For the first time in months, she felt in control. Not waiting for the next wave of anxiety.
Maybe she was getting past it. Like she had years ago with therapy.
Maybe this place, these people, weren’t breaking her but building her back up.
They reached the opposite bank. Noah set her down gently, his hands steadying her shoulders.
Teague and Liam climbed out, shaking water from their gear.
Within minutes they were back on the path. And in another thirty minutes they’d made it to the cave. The entrance loomed ahead, a jagged black opening in the canyon wall. Dark. Hungry.
Meg’s breath caught.
The warmth left her.
The darkness. The tight walls. Lydia’s chest stilling. It all flooded back. Sharp and vivid. Like it was happening again.
“You good?” Noah’s hand brushed her arm.
“I was wrong.” Meg swallowed. Her eyes fixed on the entrance. “I don’t know if I can go in there.”
Teague glanced back, his expression softening. “We’ve got you, Meg. One step at a time. If you don’t want to go where…ya know.”
Where Lydia died.
“Yeah, no rush.” Liam adjusted his pack, voice gentle. “We’ll check the entrance first, make sure it’s stable.”
Of course they thought this was just about Lydia.
But Noah knew. Saw deeper.
Noah turned her to face him, his eyes locking with hers. “You don’t have to go in there—”
She started to speak.
He lifted his hand, stopping her. “You don’t have to. But if you want to, I’ll be with you every step.”
Meg nodded, her hands trembling as she gripped her bag.
The cave’s darkness seemed to stare back.
But Noah’s steady presence anchored her. His hand on her arm. His body between her and the entrance.
Just like in the river. Just like on the trail. Just like always.
She wasn’t alone. He knew her secrets. And he was still here. Still standing beside her. Still believing she could do this.
Her rock. Her anchor.
Then why couldn’t she make her feet move? Why was her body frozen? She sat on a nearby boulder. Head between her knees.
Perfect.
She’d come all this way—hiked for hours, crossed a wash on Noah’s back, pushed through every fear—just to stay outside and hold a rock down. This was exactly why going to Pennsylvania was the right move. This was proof she didn’t belong here.
Now she had to admit to Noah that she was too weak to go in. Too broken to be fixed.
The failure was complete.