Echoes Between Us - McGarry, Katie Page 0,51

strong, and when I look up, solid blue eyes bore into mine. “Hang on to me.”

Sawyer has me by my right wrist and snakes his other arm around my waist. I swing my arm around his neck and clutch him. Carrying my weight, Sawyer vertically rolls us against the rock to place me against the ledge with him prone to the edge. His arm, a steel belt, keeps me securely to him. Our bodies are pressed tight, and I’m surrounded by his warmth.

“Are you okay?” Sawyer asks.

Am I? My skin burns from the slide, but the pain is bearable.

“Veronica,” Sawyer says softly, his breath against my ear. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” My eyes widen with how far we fell, and by the knowledge that in order for Sawyer to be here he had to have fallen, too … or jumped after me.

Sawyer releases my wrist, and I flatten myself against the rock wall. All I can see is me falling down another fifteen feet into the dark water. Around us, shadows edge forward as we lose the last of the gray daylight.

Sawyer scans the area and there’s nothing but a rock ledge on either side of us. On the other side of the river, there’s a sloped clearing. Too bad we aren’t over there. I think of the two teens, of their car hurtling down this cliff, and I think of what it must have been like to hit the river, to struggle to breathe, to only take in water and for the last thing they saw to be the murky blackness. I’m not scared of dying, but I don’t want to die this way.

A comforting touch on my shoulder and Sawyer brushes his fingers lightly along my arm. Pleasing goose bumps form, and I shiver.

“We’re okay.” He misreads my reaction. It’s shocking how in control and calm he sounds. “I’ve been in worse positions than this.”

My head snaps up. “You’ve what?”

“Do you have your cell?” he asks as if I haven’t spoken.

My hand goes for my back pocket and my fingers twitch. It’s up top and not with me. Now, I panic. “This is bad, this is—”

“We’re fine. I could swim my way out of this, but you don’t swim, and that’s easily a fifteen-foot drop into deep water. I’ve heard about this river and it doesn’t run shallow for another couple of miles. How’s your upper body strength?”

For the first time in my life, I wish I would have done a chin-up.

Reading my expression, Sawyer tilts his head then rubs my arm again as if saying my lack of strength doesn’t bother him. He tests the area near where we fell and the dirt gives. Pebbles and earth plummet down the side then start to rain on me. My blood pumps wildly as my arms shoot up to cover my head. I’m going to be knocked down by a boulder and drown.

Heat and solid warmth as Sawyer wraps his body around mine, gathering me into his chest. He uses his shoulders and head as a shield. I take in a deep breath, and I’m consumed with his scent. It’s a comforting combination of a pool and a sweet, dark smell. I keep breathing slowly in and out as I listen to the pebbles and rocks continue to slip and slide and bounce down the rock wall.

When the downfall halts, Sawyer straightens and I’m confused by how unfazed he is, whereas I feel as if I could literally vibrate out of my skin. Sawyer stares down at me, not blinking, and the reality of our situation is written plainly all over his face: we have to jump. “There’s no going up.”

Fear dries my mouth out. Death, I’m not afraid of. Dying by drowning—I’ll admit—scares the crap out of me. “I told you, I can’t swim.”

“But I can. In fact, it’s about the only thing I’m good at, besides math. If we jump, I’ll hold your hand, and I won’t let go when we hit the water. I’ll help you reach the surface. Once we do, I’m going to have to let you go for a second and then I’m going to come up behind you. I’ll put an arm underneath your arms and then you’ll need to trust me enough to let go of your body to float. I’ll get us to the other side, okay?”

“No.”

“We’re on a deserted road at nightfall with no cell phones. Give me our other options, and I’ll give those a try.”

My eyes flit from