Claimed by Her Web Master (Web Master #3) (10 page)

W
hen I set
out on this damned hike, I had no idea it could go so terribly wrong.

As I walked along the trail, I barely noticed nature’s beauty that surrounded me. My mind raced with thoughts of Quentin and what he had done—basically kidnapping me and holding me for two days. His behavior should have disgusted me. But instead it made me feel special, flattered to be the object of his desire. I knew that was sick, but maybe it was because I’d spent so long trying to get his attention, to win his love, to get him to make a commitment to me. Now that he was interested in being a permanent part of my life it seemed ironic and unfair that it was too late.

Timing had never been my strong suit.

A part of me wanted to rush into Quentin’s arms, put that ring on my finger, and never take it off. There were moments when I dared to dream of what it would be like for us to be married and to raise our child together.

But then that reasonable voice in the back of my head pops up and reminds me of all the pain that man has caused me—all the lies he’s told. I know I can’t trust him, and a marriage without trust is doomed to fail. What kind of life could we build together when the foundation is built not on rock, but on sand, able to be washed away at a moment’s notice?

These were the things I was thinking about when, instead of paying attention to where I was going and my footing, I slipped on some volcanic rock and started sliding down the side of the mountain. My left foot caught on something and I heard a snap as my ankle turned at an awkward angle. I remember thinking, “My ankle doesn’t go that way.”

By the time I fell to the ground with a loud, sickening thud, I landed in a ravine about twenty feet below the path.

I lay there for a minute, trying to catch my breath. The impact knocked the wind out of me and it took me some time to recover. Everything from my head to my toes hurt, but my ankle screamed the loudest. But before I could assess my injuries I wondered if my baby was okay. I couldn’t find any signs anything was wrong with him or her, but I was still worried. Next I tried to assess my injuries. As I’d fallen the rocks I’d fallen down had scraped my skin all over. Most of the cuts were more like scrapes or road rash, but there were a few on my legs that were bleeding.

Besides the searing pain in my left ankle, I couldn’t help but notice how my foot flopped to the side at a disturbing angle that made me want to vomit, though I guess that could have been the morning sickness. I found I couldn’t move my foot or my ankle by myself, and when I reached out to touch it the pain was so intense I almost lost consciousness.

“Damn!” I screamed into the air.

But there was no one around to hear me.

Surveying the rest of the damage, I noted a few scrapes all along my forearms and one on my cheek. Those rocks had done quite a number on me. My hand caressed my belly, and I prayed that my baby was okay. There was still no bleeding or any other signs of a miscarriage, at least not yet.

I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket only to find that I had zero bars—no coverage. No way to call for help.

I dragged myself on my rear end over toward the side of the mountain and rested my back against the rocky side of the cliff. Hopefully someone would come along soon, but I knew I needed to remain calm for the baby’s sake. I was afraid that if I panicked I might put my child in danger.

A few hours had passed and I could tell no one was coming. That was when I started to worry about it getting dark. I had to try to get back to the hotel, so I made an effort to stand. Holy crap! I almost passed out from the pain as I accidentally put weight on my bad ankle. I immediately fell back onto the ground.

There was no way I was getting out of this ravine by myself.

Trying to hold back tears, I hugged my arms around myself and watched helplessly as the sun went down. My anxiety level started to climb once that orange ball went south of the horizon, and I prayed there were no predators in the tropical jungle where I lay.

As it became dark the loss of the sun made it cooler, and I hunched over into a ball to stay warm. It amazed me that it could be cool at night even in Hawaii where you always thought of the weather as being so warm. Fortunately I didn’t think I would suffer from exposure, but every noise made me jump. I don’t think I closed my eyes for longer than a minute the whole night. I kept imagining the creeks and groans of the forest were a black jaguar coming to eat me for dinner. Numerous times I thought I heard footsteps and I froze in terror. Then after a while I’d realize it was nothing, and I cried over my foolishness.

I had been taught better than to get myself into this situation. I knew to always hike with a buddy, someone who could go for help if needed. But I’d been so lost in my own world, consumed by the drama of my life that I simply forgot basic safety protocols.

By the time dawn broke my thirst was extreme. I was torn between dragging myself to find some water and staying where I was, which was close to the path where I’d fallen and where someone might find me.

I wouldn’t know where to find water. Surely someone would come down the path sometime today. Whereas if I went looking for water I might never find it, and I might never be found either. What if I went looking for water and got lost to where I couldn’t find my way back here? Considering those things, plus how much it hurt to even move, I made the choice to stay where I was. My lips had begun to crack and my parched mouth made my tongue feel twice the size it usually did. My stomach rumbled, but I tried not to think of it. The throbbing pain in my ankle made that easier, since it fought for the majority of my attention and won.

My ankle and my baby were the two things at the forefront of my mind. I constantly prayed for God to spare my baby, promising Him that if He would, I would never go anywhere without a buddy again.

“I swear, dear Lord,” I prayed. “If you will please let my baby live, I promise that I will not attempt to go into new wild territories on my own again. I will trust in Your judgment and have You guide me in the way You see fit.” I was a lapsed Episcopalian, but in times of desperation I tended to turn back to the faith of my upbringing.

When the sun came out I dozed a little. I think I was exhausted from the night before, and the hazy morning and bright sunshine lulled me into a semi-wakeful state. I don’t know how long I had been lying there when I heard a voice calling my name.

“Sophie!”

At first I thought it was God talking back to me, but as it grew louder and more insistent I recognized that voice—it was Quentin.

“Quentin,” I managed weakly.

“Sophie! Sophie?” His voice was louder now. He sounded almost above me.

“Quentin! I’m down here!” And then I saw his face peering over the ledge where I’d fallen, and I’d never been so happy to see anyone in my entire life.

“Oh my God, Sophie. What happened to you?”

“I slipped and fell. I think I broke my ankle.”

“Okay. Let me figure out how to get down there. I’m here now. Everything’s going to be fine.”

A sense of relief flowed through me.

I believed him. Now that he was here, I was going to be okay. He would find a way to get me out of here.

He disappeared for a few minutes, and I called out for him, “Quentin?!”

But he didn’t answer. I looked around frantically and started to panic. Where had he gone? Had I imagined him? Maybe I was hallucinating.

To my great relief, I heard a rustling to my other side, and Quentin appeared, pushing some vines out of his way. I held out my arms to him, and he leaned over and hugged me tight.

“You have no idea how worried I’ve been about you.”

“I’ve been worried about me too.” I laughed.

“Let me see that leg.”

I sat still as he maneuvered my leg and when he tried to straighten my ankle I groaned in pain, gritting my teeth as hard as I could, trying not to scream.

“If you can’t walk at all we need to get some help,” he said. Tears welled up in my eyes and as much as I tried to hold back my hysteria I gripped his shoulders tightly and said, “Please, Quentin, please—you can’t leave me here!”

A
s I ran
down the path, I worried I would miss her so I tried hard to listen for a few minutes after each time I called for her.

“Sophie!” I waited.

Nothing.

I’d been walking for about ten minutes, and I wondered how far I would have to go before I found her.

What if someone had taken her? The idea struck terror in my heart, and I reassured myself she had just gotten lost or perhaps hit her head or something. I couldn’t imagine my life if I never saw her again. So many people had been taken from me. So many people I cared about, who cared about me—gone.
Please, God, do not add Sophie to that list.

And the baby. Thoughts of my unborn child gave me a renewed sense of urgency. “Sophie!” I called louder.

The sun had come out and was warming things up. It was starting to get hot. I took a small sip of water and kept going. The path was practically deserted. I only saw one couple and they were going the opposite direction. I asked them if they’d seen Sophie. I described her to them, but they said they hadn’t seen anyone on their hike. My brain insisted on remaining optimistic, but my heart was starting to sink. I hoped Kate had been able to round up more help for the search because I wasn’t having much luck.

“Sophie!” I’d gotten so used to not hearing a response that when I heard a muffled sound I was surprised. “Sophie?”

“Down here!” I couldn’t believe it. But as I peered down over the side of the path I could see her. She was leaning up against a rock, legs stretched out in front of her. She looked good and banged up, but she was there and she was alive.

“Oh my God! Sophie are you okay?”

“No, I’ve hurt my ankle pretty bad. I think it’s broken. Quentin, I’m so glad you’re here.”

“I’ll be down in a minute. I have to find another way to get down to you.” It looks like she had slipped over the side of the path and fallen down some pretty jagged rocks, the volcanic kind that are sharp as glass. It was a miracle she was in one piece.

On the other side of the trail, there was a place I could scale down the side to the same ravine, only it wasn’t as steep. It took me a few minutes, but I was able to locate Sophie. When I reached her she was extremely happy to see me. She would have probably been happy to see anyone, but I still reveled in her smile. If I could be her hero, then goddammit I was going to be.

“Oh thank God you’re here, Quentin. I was afraid no one would find me and that I might die of thirst out here.”

“Don’t worry. I’m here now. Here, drink some water, and then we’ll try to get you to a doctor so he can look at that ankle of yours. What the hell happened?”

She gulped down the entire bottle of water before she answered. “I wasn’t watching where I was going, and I slipped.”

Her ankle was a grisly scene. The angle it rested at made me flinch. It was broken all right, and there was no way she was going to be able to put any weight on it.

Carrying her was going to be tricky. My cell phone had no coverage, and I had no idea how long it would be before a search and rescue team arrived. I was going to have to find a way to get her back up on the path and evacuate her from this trail. I needed to get her to a hospital and fast. I noticed that she was shivering, and I worried that the pain from her ankle might have put her into shock.

“Besides your ankle, does it hurt anywhere else?” I asked, praying she hadn’t sustained any internal injuries.

“Only these scrapes and scratches. Some of them are pretty bad, but I think that’s it.”

I nodded. “Hand me your belt,” I said as I removed mine. I was going to have to improvise.

Her hands shook as she attempted to unthread her belt from her waist.

“Here, let me help you.” I finished removing her belt, and I attached them together, devising a makeshift sling for her legs. I wouldn’t be able to carry her in my arms the whole way, so I asked her to ride on my back. With her legs looped into the belt I was able to hold her securely and she wouldn’t get as tired trying to hold her legs around my waist, especially the bad one. As we tried getting her onto my back we bumped her leg once and she screamed, but after that minor accident we were able to arrange it to where I could carry her, and she wouldn’t have to put any weight on her leg.

It was slow going. Every step had to be taken with great purpose, for I was not only carrying the girl I loved, but also our child. As I wiped the sweat from my brow, I wondered if it was from the physical exertion or the pressure I was feeling. Sophie’s skin was hot to the touch, and I was pretty sure she had a fever. I wasn’t sure what was wrong with her besides the broken ankle, but I had enough experience with bad outcomes to be concerned. It took me a long time to get up the ravine because I didn’t want to take any steps that might possibly cause us to fall. Once, my foot slid under some loose rocks, and Sophie clung tighter to me, whimpering in my ear.

Once we got back up to the trail, I carried her for another five minutes before I pulled out my phone to see if we had coverage.

One bar.

I pressed the number to call Kate.

“Hello?” Thank God.

“It’s me. I found her. Her ankle is broken. Meet me in the parking lot with my car so I can take her to the hospital.”

“Are you sure? You don’t want me to call an ambulance?”

“No. It will be faster if I just take her.”

“Roger that. See you in a few, boss.”

“Who was that?” Sophie asked.

“My assistant, Kate.”

“You brought your assistant with you to Hawaii?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Just when I think I know you, you prove me wrong. You’re a mystery, Mr. Andrews.”

Hardly. “We’ll be back to the hotel in a few minutes. Kate will be bringing the car around, and I’ll take you to the hospital.”

“All right. Hey, how did you find me anyway?”

“Shhh,” I cautioned her. “We can talk about that later. Save your strength now.”

“But …”

“Think of the baby.” It was manipulative, but I wasn’t about to have that conversation right now.

By the time we got to the parking lot, I was huffing and puffing. Sophie probably only weighed a buck twenty, but carrying her for that long had my shirt wringing wet with sweat, and I was glad to be able to set her down. But I waited until we found the car first.

There it was—my white generic rent-a-car. Kate hopped out of it and ran toward us.

“What can I do?” she asked.

“Help me get her in the back seat.”

“Ten-four.” Kate opened the back door of the sedan.

“Sophie, I’m going to slowly lower you to where you’re sitting in the back seat. Kate’s going to help, all right?”

“Mmhmm.” She sounded out of it, so I moved even faster. She needed to get to a hospital quickly.

I bent backward at an impossibly uncomfortable angle so that she could plop onto the seat.

“Got her,” Kate said.

Slowly, I unhooked the belt-harness and turned to help Sophie get her leg into the car without hurting her ankle any more than necessary.

Sophie winced as we settled her into place with her foot up on the seat next to her, and I noticed her pallor had morphed so that she appeared two shades paler than she had been when I found her. Maybe moving her had made her worse. I shouldn’t have moved her. Maybe I should I have waited for a stretcher. Fuck!

Then I remembered the panic in her eyes when she begged me not to leave her.

I could second-guess myself all day long, but it wouldn’t change the decisions I’d already made. It was time to drive her to the hospital and get her treated. “You’re going to be okay,” I told her before kissing her on the forehead and climbing behind the wheel. She nodded, but seemed out of it.

“Can you go with us, Kate? Help her if she needs it on the way there?”

“Sure, boss. But I’ll sit in the front so she doesn’t have to move that leg again.” Kate made a face at me that told me how bad she thought Sophie’s leg looked. I was glad Sophie couldn’t see her, and I ignored it.

“Thanks, y’all,” Sophie said and laid her head on her arm. “Do you have any more water? Or any food?”

“Yeah,” Kate said and started to hand back a bottle of water.

“No, don’t,” I said and I could feel both women staring daggers into me.

“She’s not in severe dehydration right now. As soon as she gets to the hospital you know they are going to give her an IV with fluids, and then they’re probably going to do surgery on her ankle. They never want you to have eaten or drank anything before surgery.”

“You can be such a shit sometimes. Kate—it is Kate, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“If I only promise to take a sip, can I please have some water? My throat is so dry. My lips are so cracked.” I could hear the sob bubbling up at the back of her throat. Damn, I didn’t mean to be a complete asshole, I was just trying to be smart.

Kate shot me a dirty look, and suddenly “boss” was the bad guy. “Yes, you may.” Kate handed Sophie the water with her other hand so the exchange took place out of my reach.

Fucking women.

Kate riffled through her purse. “I’ve got some ChapStick, too.”

“Oh my God—thank you!” It sounded like Sophie was going to cry again. Between the trauma of her ordeal, possible shock, and her hormones, my poor girl was having a terrible time. I wasn’t sure what to do, so I shifted my focus to navigation and let the two of them bond over lip balm.

Fortunately, traffic was light and there were convenient blue signs marked with an “H” everywhere for hospital, not to mention the car was equipped with a navigation system that did an above-average job of telling me how to get there.

As soon as we arrived I parked as close to the Emergency Room Entrance as possible, scooped Sophie into my arms, and rushed inside. Kate would have to fend for herself.

“Sir, do you need a wheelchair?” A nurse asked.

“Yes. Something to keep her leg still. I think her ankle is broken.” I held Sophie close to my chest. She clung to my neck and I cherished feeling her heart beating next to mine. I knew I was about to have to let her go, and a part of me wanted to hold her forever.

The nurse nodded. “Looks like it.”

You didn’t have to be a doctor or have an x-ray machine to see that the angle of her foot indicated a severe injury.

An orderly brought a wheelchair over, and I reluctantly deposited Sophie in it.