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Of course he does.
“Are you hurt?” he whispers, leaning back and cupping my face, looking at me all over again. “Dess?”
“I’m alive. All thanks to you.”
“Don’t go soft on me now,” he whispers. “We still need to barricade this door before my damn arms fall off.” He switches his attention from me, searching for something not tied down or bolted he can use.
Eventually, he finds a long chain that spilled out of the storage chest and sets to work with Juan, wrapping it up tight.
The thunder grows more distant now, and the waves are more like the aftershocks of some tsunami, a shadow of the lethal danger they were.
I watch him the whole time, crossing the room to comfort Molly, trying to allow ample space while she shakes herself dry.
Capable, glorious, caring Shepherd Foster.
Molly whines and I let her lick the salt from my face.
I have no clue if it’s from tears or just water. I don’t care.
My chest heaves with emotion, more of it tangling up inside me with every passing minute.
We’re still breathing, though.
We’re alive and well as the darkness churns, an eternity passes, and soon, we’re plunged into a calm black night.
23
A Little Miracle (Shepherd)
The night is long and frigid and miserable as hell.
Yeah, the worst is over with the storm passing, but it’s no cakewalk as we struggle with the comms, checking our phones every few minutes for signals, holding our breath to see if another ship ever shows up to help.
I leave Dess to comfort Molly while Juan and I take turns manhandling the manual controls.
That was too fucking close.
Every time I close my eyes, I still see her being dragged out of that open door.
Almost gone forever.
And I know for certain what would’ve happened if I’d lost her.
I thought I knew before, but the fear that filled me then, the absolute terror of thinking I was watching her die, confirmed everything.
When the morning light breaks, everyone is exhausted from nothing but brief naps, yawning and rubbing bleary eyes.
We float into the sparkling sunrise, barely alive to tell the tale.
But wearealive.
Despite the odds, we made it.
Destiny unhooks her arms from the sleeping husky in her lap. Her eyes are wide and tired and she looks stiff, her wet clothes mostly dried into a clammy dampness if they’re anything like mine.
Yeah, fuck.
One glance from her is all it takes.
