Page 79 of Freeing Lark

But she wasn’t alone. And somehow, that made all the difference.

They climbed deeper into the forest, leaving the river—and the men searching for them—behind.

CHAPTER 24

Hoot had no idea how long they’d been moving. Twenty minutes. An hour. Long enough that the adrenaline had begun to wear off, and every step sent a fresh pulse of pain through his shoulder. With each step through the forest, more of his weight pressed onto Lark.

The storm made judging distance nearly impossible. Rain hammered the forest canopy, dripping from the leaves in steady streams. The ground was slick beneath his boots, roots and rocks hidden beneath layers of mud.

Lark stayed tucked against his good side, one arm wrapped firmly around his waist. She hadn’t complained once. That worried him more than if she had.

He glanced down at her. Her hair was plastered to her face. Her bare arms were covered in scratches from the brush, and the angry marks around her wrists stood out against her skin. She looked exhausted. But determined.

“You need to slow down,” she said. Hoot almost laughed. “You’re walking like you weren’t just shot.”

“It’s just walking.”

“You’re struggling for breath.”

“Technicality.”

She gave him a look. Even exhausted, she still had enough attitude to keep him from getting too comfortable. He liked that about her. Probably more than he should.

A distant shout drifted through the trees. Hoot stopped immediately. Lark froze beside him. They both listened. The next shout was closer. Hoot’s instincts snapped fully into place.

“Down.” He pulled her toward the nearest cluster of thick brush. They crouched beneath the dripping foliage, pressed close together. Lark’s breathing quickened. Hoot put a finger against his lips, she nodded.

The voices grew louder. “Check along the bank.”

“They couldn’t have gotten far.”

Hoot’s jaw tightened. They were still checking the riverbank for where they’d exited the water. Good. That meant they hadn’t found their trail. Yet.

He slowly scanned the woods. The forest was dense enough to conceal them, but their tracks would be another matter.

His eyes fell to the muddy ground at his feet. His boots had left obvious impressions. So had Lark’s. Damn. He’d been too focused on getting away from the river to think about covering their tracks.

Another voice carried through the rain. “Can’t see shit in this storm.”

“Shut it and keep looking.”

Hoot waited. Minutes passed, and finally, the voices began fading.

Lark exhaled. “What are we gonna do if they find us?”

Hoot didn’t answer immediately. Because the answer was simple. They couldn’t let that happen. He couldn’t let that happen.

He looked at her again. She was scared. He could see it now. She’d been brave on the island. Brave in the river. Brave while dragging his half-conscious ass onto shore.

But fear was catching up with her. As was exhaustion. He reached for her hand. “I’m going to get you out of this.”

Her fingers curled around his. “You promise?”

Hoot had made promises before. Some he’d kept. Some had ended with body bags. But this one came without hesitation. “Yes.”

She studied his face. Then nodded. “Okay.”

They moved again. Hoot forced himself to keep a steady pace despite the pain. After another stretch of woods, the terrain began rising. He recognized the ridge. The hunting cabin shouldn’t be much farther.