Star Crossed Hurricane (8 page)

“Sawyer? I’m scared.”

Sawyer shrugged, tugging her across the broken floor. “I was scared the minute you made me climb in this place. I’m sure it’s haunted.”

She frowned at the back of his head, picking her way across the floor, her newest wound stinging and aching.
Awesome
. “That’s not why I’m scared.”

He grinned over his shoulder. “Then you’re braver than me.” He swung open what Savannah had thought was a closet door, because it was very thin and very small. Instead, it was the basement entrance she’d spent the last half hour looking for. “I don’t like basements. Or the dark.”

“It’s a good thing you’re cute, Sawyer. Otherwise,” she raised an eyebrow, considering him, “I’m not sure how well you’d do with the ladies.”

His jaw dropped and she smiled, sliding past him to take the lead. “Luckily, I have a flashlight app on my phone. We’re good until the battery dies.”

“You have your phone?”

She nodded, starting cautiously down the stairs. They were long, and she couldn’t even see the bottom. “Aaron’s, too.”

“Why the hell didn’t you call to let anyone know where we are?”

She stopped, holding her phone out to him. “There’s no service here.”

Behind them, the wall collapsed, and the entire house groaned, shifting weight. “We can talk about this later. Move!”

She whirled around, racing down the stairs, wondering if she was as stupid as horror movie girls, running down into the unknown instead of out and away. But there hadn’t been a clear, safe path outside, and then they would have to fight the elements. So she ran, leaping over broken stairs, as the house shrieked and caved behind them. “I’m not sure this is safer!” she yelled.

“It’s stable against the ground. It’s safer than being out in that storm.” She could barely hear him over the house and the howling wind. But she got the general idea, which meant run. Down the stairs as fast as she could go.

She realized, when she bashed her head on a low hanging board in the
exact
place she’d hit it earlier, that it was important to watch where she was going. The world spun, which, she thought crazily, was odd — who knew complete darkness could spin? Her legs gave way and she remembered screaming, right before she bounced down the stairs like a rag doll.

And ended in a lake.

She gasped, the cold water shocking her back to her senses far better than the tumble down the stairs did. “Savannah!” Sawyer landed next to her, the water splashing up over her head, into her mouth and eyes. And then he was scooping her up, cradling her against him. “Buttercup? Baby? Tell me you’re okay. Talk to me, sweetheart.” He was trembling, and his heart pounded so hard in his chest she could feel it against her arm.

He’s never called me Baby before.

“We’ve got to get out of here. The storm can’t be worse than this place.”

Now he thinks the storm is safer. He couldn’t have decided that before I fell?
If her head hadn’t hurt so bad, she would have rolled her eyes.

He turned to go up the stairs, still holding her tight. They made it up two steps. On the third, the staircase crumbled, falling sideways and collapsing into the water. Sawyer and Savannah went with it.

More boards, more banging, more injuries. She went under, Sawyer on top of her, and she stupidly tried to scream, but her mouth just filled with water. Her arms and legs thrashed as she fought her way to her feet.

Sawyer jerked her up, out of the water. She gasped and coughed, choking on stale water. Everything hurt. “Are you okay? Buttercup? Are you okay?” He bent down, brushing the back the hair plastered to her face.

She nodded, still coughing.

“Shit. You’re all bloody.”

“You—you’re not so—hot yourself,” she gasped between coughs.

Sawyer cracked the barest hint of a smile. Still holding her, he sloshed across the dark basement and set her on top of an old furnace, safely out of the water.

She could barely see him in the darkness, and the storm above was muted. It felt safe in this freezing basement full of water. The thought made her giggle.

He raised an eyebrow, clearly beginning to doubt her sanity.

“There’s light coming from somewhere. If we can find it…” He sloshed across the room, scanning the ceiling, until she couldn’t make him out in the shadows. Suddenly, the basement didn’t feel so safe anymore.

“I thought you said we couldn’t brave the storm.” Her head hurt. Her shoulder and elbow hurt. She felt like she’d been hit by a very angry truck. All she wanted was to go home. It was only, like, a forty-five minute run. Surely they could brave the storm for that long?

The storm is taking down an entire house. You really think you can handle it?

Oh yeah. Good point.

“It might be better to just stay in here until the storm passes…” Sawyer was muttering from the darkness. “But it’s damn cold.”

Aaron’s phone had been in her jeans pocket and hadn’t gotten as wet as hers. She pressed the
on
button and raised it up, relieved by the dim light. She could see Sawyer again, and a bit of the basement. “There’s a crack here… but it’s not big enough to get out of,” Sawyer said, poking at the ceiling.

“Hey.” Savannah jumped off the furnace and into the icy water. “There’s a door over here.”

“Good. We have to get out of here. The water’s rising.”

Well. That wasn’t alarming at all.

This house that she’d been so excited to see had turned into something from a horror movie. All that was missing was a man with a chainsaw and a creepy mask. Shivering, she shoved
that
thought out of her mind before she caused widespread panic.

She waded across the room, holding Aaron’s phone up to light her path. She heard Sawyer coming behind her, his much longer legs making easier progress than hers. “That’s a big door,” he said when they stopped in front of it.

Big was an understatement. It looked like it was made of metal, and it towered over Sawyer’s six-foot frame. “This doesn’t fit in this old house at all,” Savannah said, frowning. Except frowning moved the gash in her head, which stung and ached and complained. She quickly stopped with the frown. “This house… there’s not… this looks modern.”

“Maybe it was added later?” Sawyer traced the frame, looking for a way to open it.

“That’s weird. Sawyer.” She pointed. “There’s a latch.”

He straightened, grinning sheepishly. “Right.” Of course, the latch didn’t want to open. The door looked newer than the rest of the house, but the handle was rusted from disuse and humidity.

Sawyer grabbed a pipe half-floating against the wall and used it to scrape the rust off. He dropped the pipe back into the water and tugged again on the latch. “It won’t budge.”

“Wait. I have an idea.” Savannah grabbed the pipe again and shoved it in between the lever handles. “Smart girl,” Sawyer said, getting out of her way. Savannah threw all her weight against the pipe. Her shoulder and elbow screamed, and she gasped, dropping her tool. Whimpering like a kicked puppy, she cradled her arm.

“Let me help.” Sawyer took the pipe, stuck it into the latch, and pushed. His weight was considerably more than her weight, but she liked to think she loosened it a bit when it finally creaked and groaned, the metal screaming as it dragged across other metal. The door popped open, just an inch or so, but the water escaped through it like a drain, and the force slammed it shut again.

Sawyer swore. Savannah waded across the room, looking for something to help with. The best she could find was a rusted shovel. Fighting her way back to Sawyer, she tucked Aaron’s phone, their only source of light, into her bra to keep it out of the water and free up her hands.

The flooded basement, her many runs through the day, and her falls and bumps and bruises… suddenly, she was exhausted. “I’m getting really tired,” she murmured, holding a hand to her head. Sawyer glanced over, alarmed.

“Stay awake for me, baby. We’ll find you somewhere safe to lay down in a little bit, okay?”

Baby
.

She nodded and raised her shovel.

Again, Sawyer fought to pull the latch back. When he finally succeeded, she jammed the shovel in the gap, holding it open while the water rushed out. Sawyer wedged his shoulder in, then pushed, groaning, until Savannah could squeeze through. He followed and the door slammed behind them.

She found herself in a little ditch, slanted so that the escaped water rushed down toward a far wall. Of course, she tumbled along with it, because what fun would it be to go safely anywhere in this monster house. Sawyer, too, got caught and lost his balance. She could see a drop off, and pictured in her mind a huge waterfall and being flung to her death. She screamed as she went over… and landed on a metal grate about four feet down. Sawyer landed next to her, and using her cat-like reflexes, she grabbed his arm to keep him upright. They climbed up the embankment, out of the water, to dry land. Savannah thought briefly that it would be wonderful to kiss the dirt, but she was too tired and too sore to bend or kneel.

“What the hell is this place?” Sawyer breathed. She looked up at him, but his eyes were focused completely behind her. Turning slowly, she gasped.

It was an underground city.

“Holy creak.”

It was made of rough-hewn brick, pale white. The back walls looked to be carved out of the cave walls. A brick street ran down the middle of at least five little rooms on each side. “I can’t even… am I really seeing this?” Sawyer asked, but he didn’t wait for a response, wandering toward the street as if in a trance.

“
How
are we seeing this? Where’s the light coming from?” Savannah asked, following Sawyer but staring up at the ceiling. “This is a cave, I think. Insane.” There were shafts above them that let in light, but she couldn’t figure out why the rain didn’t get through, too. And it was so dark out. Why was there light?

“It looks safe here, Savvy. Why don’t you lay down for a while and rest? It’s gotta be past midnight.”

He didn’t have to tell her twice. Sawyer briefly glanced in all the little rooms around them to make sure they were alone and came back to the first one, guiding her inside. “Do you think they’re looking for us?” she asked, ducking through the small doorway. There was a burned spot in the corner, that she would guess was where cooking had been done at some point. Or maybe a fire for warmth. It was chilly in here, but probably not as cold as outside. Or the ice box basement they’d just escaped.

“Julian knows where I went. He probably went for help, but I don’t know if they can get here until the storm lets up. It’ll be okay, Buttercup. Let’s get some rest.”

“I guess the track meet tomorrow is probably out of the question, huh?” She watched Sawyer slide down to the floor, his back against the rock wall.

He raised his hands, motioning her over. “Come here.”

Suddenly she was again hyper-aware that they were completely alone. And for the moment, safe. If she hadn’t been so exhausted…

But she was. Exhausted and hurt and afraid. They couldn’t go back the way they’d come. She wasn’t sure there was even a way out. She collapsed next to him. He pulled her onto his lap, tucking her head under his chin. She curled around him, craving his warmth. Craving his touch.

“I think the storm will have canceled the track meet, anyway. We’ll probably head back to Utah as soon as it’s safe to travel.”

“Damn.” This was their last meet before regional. She wasn’t ready for track season to be over. Once it ended, they had finals and then the semester was over. Sawyer would go back to Texas. Laura would go back to Alaska and Kelly to Tennessee. Only she and Beckett would stay in Utah for the summer. The thought made her very sad.

“Did my little Buttercup just swear?” He chuckled, his hand running absently up and down her back in slow, lazy circles.

“I don’t—I don’t want everyone to leave.”

He sucked in a breath, and she was barely breathing herself. “You don’t want me to leave?” he asked quietly.

“No.” There. She’d said it. It wasn’t like he didn’t know she was in love with him. Everyone knew. Even, she suspected, Beckett.

“I—I don’t want to leave you, either.”

She bit her lip. “Because I’m hot?”

He chuckled. “You are hot. The hottest girl I’ve ever met.” He tugged gently on her soaked hair. “But that’s not why. Get some rest, Buttercup. We’ve got to find a way out of here.”

Her heart, which was attempting to pound right up her throat and into her mouth, slowly relaxed, settling back into its home in her rib cage. They weren’t going to have that conversation. He wasn’t going to let it happen. Part of her, a very small part, was relieved. But the rest of her was massively disappointed.

Until he started to sing. Slowly, keeping his voice low, he sang to her, stroking her hair, down her back, up her arm. “
I’d sell my soul to save you, shred my heart to have you. Look at me, wanting you. The one thing in this life I can’t have.”
He had a beautiful voice, deep and gravelly. She could have listened to him sing for the rest of her life. Instead, she fell asleep, his song the last thing she heard, winding its way through her brain and around her heart.

CHAPTER EIGHT

S
AWYER HAD NO IDEA WHAT TIME IT WAS
or how long he’d been laying there, immobile because Savannah was curled around his legs. Watching her sleep, watching the dim lights shimmer off her hair. Her eyelashes fluttered against her bruised cheek, and every so often she would whimper and slide even closer. His body was exhausted, his mind was exhausted, but he would not sleep. She’d been right; in a few short weeks, he’d be heading back to Texas. Yeah, he’d be back in a few months for fall semester, but things could change. He could lose her forever.

She’s not yours to lose.

The wind’s howl seemed to have died a little, although it was hard to hear anything so deep underground. This place seemed to have simultaneously saved them and trapped them.

He shifted, groaning. Instantly, she was awake; her eyes flew open and she sat up. “Are you okay? Did I sleep too long? Holy creak, you’ve been stuck sitting on this hard floor this whole time! I’m so sorry!” All that, in one breath.