Page 88 of Freeing Lark

Lark smiled against his mouth. Then he suddenly stopped. His head turned. “Wait.”

She listened. At first, she heard nothing but rain. Then⁠—

Engines.

Lark sat up. “Cormac?” He was already trying to move. She scrambled to her feet. “Who is it?”

“Don’t know.” The relaxed warmth vanished from his face. Military instincts took over, and he pointed to the far side of the room. “Kitchen. Corner.” She obeyed, crouching near the cabinets.

With his knife gripped in his good hand, Cormac tried to sit higher, but pain flashed across his face. He couldn’t move quickly. Couldn’t fight. If the men from the island had found them, they were in trouble.

Lark’s heart pounded. Neither of them relaxed until Cormac’s phone pinged. He glanced down, and the tension drained from his shoulders. “My team.”

A few seconds later, voices sounded outside. The cabin door opened. “Hoot!” A broad-shouldered man entered first, followed by several others.

“Well, look at this,” another voice said. “Hoot takes an unexpected vacation and doesn’t even invite us.”

Cormac groaned. “Shut up, Eggs.”

The man laughed. “What? If you wanted some alone time with your girl, I’m sure Flint would’ve given you leave.”

“Fuck you,” Cormac uttered, the words lacking any genuine malice.

As the men entered the cabin, Spark immediately went to Hoot, placing a hefty bag by the couch and then rummaging through it. Evidently, he was the team’s medic. He immediately went to work.

Within minutes, Cormac had been examined, his wound cleaned and dressed properly, pain medication administered, and an IV started.

“You’re lucky,” Spark told him.

“Feel lucky.”

“You’re alive.”

“Still working on that.”

Eventually, they prepared to move him. Two men brought in a flat rescue board. Cormac looked offended. “Absolutely not.”

Spark raised an eyebrow. “You’re not walking.”

“I can walk.”

“You can barely sit upright.”

“I’ve walked with worse.”

An older man stepped forward. Lark hadn’t met him yet. He was clearly the leader, and they addressed him as Flint.

“Get over it, Hoot.”

Cormac glared. Flint didn’t blink. Cormac sighed. “Fine.”

The team carefully transferred him onto the board. Once he was secure, Cormac’s attention immediately shifted to Lark. “Her.”

“I’m fine,” she insisted.

Spark looked at him. “She says she’s fine.”

“She’s not.” Lark opened her mouth to retort, but Cormac’s finger shot out, silencing her. “Her wrists.”