Trees offered privacy and the birds chirped merrily in the branches, oblivious to the carnage that had taken place here just that morning. “Do not go out past that point,” he warned, indicating the tail end of the jutting eddy. “The current is deep and fast and will suck y’ in if y’ venture any farther.” She didn’t need to be told twice. She remembered those who’d fled into the river in the last moments before dawn. They’d been swept away in seconds. He left her and Ellie with a rough bar of soap that smelled wonderfully like him and made her insides tense into a tight, slick coil with the memory of her face pressed against his skin, breathing that scent in, losing herself in it. . . . Trying to ignore her rampant thoughts, Shealy jabbered nonsense at Ellie as she stripped them both and stepped into the pool. The water was as cold as he’d promised, but it felt blissful to wash the blood and stench from her hair and body. Ellie gave a distressed cry when the chill hit her, but then she, too, seemed to surrender to the numbing tingle.
