Rescued by the Captain (Winter Rescue)

3. Bria

3

brIA

My head pounds like someone took a jackhammer to my skull. If you told me I’d fallen head-first from a mountain top, I’d believe you. It takes everything in me not to howl in pain. Not because I want to punish myself, but there’s a piercing set of eyes staring at me.

I study the man. He’s buff, could swallow me in his muscles and he crouches on the floor. For a split second, I question if I’m in danger or comfort. His expression doesn’t look threatening. Although it’s hard not to be intimidated by a man whose features are so razor sharp, I fluster holding his gaze.

But I can't let my judgment get caught up in his attractiveness. Or… I can’t remember —ugh, but that’s not the focus right now. Glancing at his clothes, I see he’s wearing a uniform that’s stitched with SC Rescue Team on the breast pocket. Maybe he is here to help me after all. I push myself upright on the couch, smelling the cocoa that invites me for a sip. Oddly, I feel drawn towards the man, so much so that I pay no mind to the drink. He’s got the textbook-charming face, but I think there’s more to it than that. The way his thick eyebrows furrow in worry. It’s familiar.

Could it be that my father was a police officer?

Something from the past gives me an ounce of trust. I watch as he rises to his feet, removing his jacket that has already been unzipped. As the sleeves slide down his arms, I notice that his muscles are even bigger underneath. I also learn a new part of his identity — his name is Donte, emblazoned right where his jacket had been covered by his chest.

Donte . His lips are pulled in a straight line, so I can’t read his thoughts.

Why was he out in the woods?

Why did I need rescuing?

Who is he?

The air about him is mysterious. When his gaze lands on me, it burns through my skin —penetrates me, as if he has the power to wrench my every emotion to the surface.

After making a visual sweep of me from head to toe, his eyes lingering a bit longer once they reach my chest, he gets the mug and brings it to me. I sip dutifully and mostly out of need on the drink.

“I’m Donte, I work for the SC Rescue team,” he says. His voice is husky and commanding.

I perch the mug on my lap. I’ve learned one more fact about Donte. He can make a killer hot chocolate. “Thank you,” I reply. “Do you know who I am?”

His Adam’s apple bobs up and down his throat as he speaks. “No. There was nothing in the rental car that gave me your identity. Do you remember anything?”

“I think my dad was a police officer or fireman. I remember bright lights in my rearview mirror.”

“You did mumble black truck earlier.”

I bury my head in my hands, causing my drink to spill over. The chocolate is searing, but the pain is no match to the overwhelming nature of this situation.

“I remember nothing. Not where I’m from, what my name is, why I wound up here.” I sigh. I have nothing to rely on, yet so much to battle. How could I have gotten amnesia? Why me?

Donte sights my distress, and dives to my side to calm me. “Hey, hey, no worries. We’ll figure it out,” he whispers.

I shake my head, feeling the tears gather at my eyes. “But what if I can’t remember? What if I don’t ever remember?”

Donte pulls me into his warm embrace. I’m startled. His face and muscles make him look so hard on the exterior, but when I crash into his chest, he’s so gentle and soft. I feel that I can take my first breath of relief since waking up in this nightmare. I allow my tension to ease, melt into his piney musk as he rubs my back.

“It’s going to be okay,” he coos and my body relaxes just a hair.

But there’s a feeling that won’t go away.

A lump forms in my throat. “I hope so.”