Page 39 of The Heat is On
No, Skye!
But if March killed him now, Rio had no doubt the man would make good on his words about Skye. Rio kept his mouth shut.
Let the smile drift across March's face with impunity.
“Let me go, Skye. He’s not going to kill me.” Yet.
Skye loosened her hold, and Rio turned in her arms. He pressed a hard kiss on Skye’s head, his hands on her shoulders.
Skye gave his hand a squeeze, then let go and marched past Archer, who stood at the side of the trail.
Rio glared at Darryl, who swallowed and stepped out in front of Skye. Rio really should stop hoping the guy bled to death. March walked behind them all.
He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.
Funny that part of the psalm flickered into his mind as they tromped in silence through the forest, following the scant deer trail. But maybe…
What if he was here not just to bring down Buttles but to save Skye?
God, I know I haven’t done much to honor You… I’ve let the darkness inside, justified it. Told myself that it didn’t matter. But…if You brought me here to save Skye, then please…help me.
Rio didn’t know if God could even hear him anymore, but he was leaning hard into hope.
The air began to cool as they descended into a valley, along a ridge, and he made out the hush of running water in the distance. Rio pushed away the shaggy brush of a pine tree and quickened his pace, nearly up to Skye.
“When I tell you—”
“No.” She glanced over her shoulder, her aqua-gray eyes hard. “Not without you.”
He drew a breath. Nice. Now she had it in her head that she was actually keeping her word to March.
Hardly.
“I have a plan—”
“I know.” She offered him a smile, so much faith in it he felt ill. “But it’d better not include me running without you.”
His mouth tightened into a line.
They descended the ridge, and the river came into view. A frothy, fast-running swath of mountain runoff maybe fifteen feet wide that carved out the canyon. Deep enough that he couldn’t see the bottom and littered with boulders and jammed logs. Walls of granite cordoned it on both sides.
In the distance, a wooden hanging bridge—made of cable and sturdy slats, most likely the handiwork of the Forest Service—spanned the two sides.
They crossed a well-trod, wide path, and it occurred to Rio that they were nearing civilization, a constructed hiking trail. Maybe a campground.
Darryl emerged from the forest and stepped out onto the bridge. It wobbled under his feet, but he gripped the rail and started across.
Skye hesitated, watching. “Get going!” March said and pushed past Rio.
He’d taken off his orange prisoner shirt, leaving only the T-shirt underneath. He put a hand to Skye’s back. “Go!”
“Leave me alone!”
Rio started for her, but Archer grabbed his arm.
Rio rounded on him but froze at the look on Archer’s face.
Archer nodded toward Skye. “When I tell you…run.”