Page 45 of The Triple Play

I exhale in a rush. Snatching up the radio, I jam my feet into my boots and step outside, taking care to close the door softly behind me.

The rain stopped sometime overnight. Everything is still soaking wet, and the sky is still grey and it’s just barely light. It must still be early.

Tucking the radio in my back pocket, I hurry to the outhouse first, cursing the fact that I came out here without a shirt or a jacket. It’s fucking cold.

I’m on my way back to the cabin when the radio beeps in my pocket. I pull it out and stop under the shelter of the overhang at the door, hoping it provides some refuge from the cold. I could go inside, but in case Foxxy and Liv are still sleeping, I don’t want to wake them up. Besides, it’s not exactly any warmer in there, and won’t be until we get the fire going.

The only place warm is in bed with Olivia.

And something tells me that’s not where I need to be right now.

“HQ to team lead,” a voice calls through the radio.

“Morning, HQ,” I reply, then cough to clear my throat. I sound tired, my voice rough with lack of sleep.

“Voss. We’ve got a crew headed into the park now to assess the road damage and try to get you out. How’s the subject?” Armstrong wastes no time with small talk. It’s strange to hear him refer to Olivia as a subject when she’s so much more than that.

“Stable. Her ankle is definitely sprained, and I’m not sure she’ll be able to hike out on it. Is there a chance of aerial support now that the rain has let up?”

“If we can’t get a vehicle up to you, then yes, I’ll call in the military boys for an airlift. But they’ve been pretty busy, so no promises on when that would happen. How are your supplies?”

I try to recall what the food situation is but come up blank. Erring on the side of caution, I reply, “Not great. We could manage for another day if we had to, though.”

“Got it. Well, keep the radio nearby, our guys should be on scene where you left the truck within an hour or so. I’ll keep you updated. Be ready to evac if they can get through.”

“Will do. Thank you.” My voice is clipped as I sign off. Reality is smacking me in the face, and I’m not ready for it.

If we only have a couple of hours, I don’t have long before I need to get Foxxy and Olivia up and moving.

Heading back inside the cabin, there’s still no sound of life from upstairs. I’m still careful not to make too much noise as I get a fire going in the woodstove, but moments later, the sound of Trip’s feet landing on the floor filters down, and then he’s hopping down the stairs.

It’s remarkable how well he gets around with only three legs. His whole back end wiggles back and forth as he wags his tail and comes over to me before stretching his one front leg out and yawning.

“Hey, buddy,” I whisper, bending down to scratch his head. “Are they still asleep?”

The quiet snuffle-sneeze he makes seems to confirm that. I go to the door and let him out, this time remembering to grab my jacket on the way. Leaning against the doorframe, I watch him beeline to a tree and squat down. Guess lifting one leg is a bit too much to ask. He sniffs around for another minute or two before trotting back over and ducking past me inside. He hops right up on the threadbare couch and curls up in a ball.

Shaking my head as I muffle my laugh, I move to the kitchen area and start some water boiling. I need coffee.

Sometime later, Trip’s head lifts from my lap when we hear the bed creaking upstairs. There’s a low murmur of Foxxy’s voice, and a soft reply from Liv. I don’t bother trying to hide my smile. There’s no one here to see it except the dog, and he’s not going to judge me for wanting something I can’t have.

Because there’s no way Olivia would want me—want both of us—in reality. What was it Foxxy said? What happens at the cabin stays at the cabin.

A few minutes pass, then I see Foxxy coming down the stairs backward, his hands stretched out in front for Olivia, who for some insane reason is trying to get down the stairs herself.

“What are you doing?” I bark, leaping off the couch.

Liv’s concentrating, her tongue tucked in the corner of her lips. I’d think it was adorable if I wasn’t freaking out about her ankle.

I don’t think I take in a full breath until she’s at the bottom of the stairs and looks up at me triumphantly. “See? Better.”

I rake my fingers through my hair. “Jesus, Liv. Why didn’t you let Foxxy help you?”

She folds her arms across her chest and limps over, coming to stand right in front of me so close, I could lean in and kiss her. Which I almost do.

But I don’t.

“Because my ankle feels better. And if we’re going to get out of here, I need to be able to move around by myself, right?”