The boat drifted off . . .
He went for it, wading into the murky waters until he was chest-deep before I could say another word. He closed in on the boat, threw his flashlight ahead of him, and scrambled to climb into it, shoving the oar aside.
I pivoted fast, grabbed Anya’s hand, and pulled her behind the towering trees.
“Dad,” she cried out.
His arms reached over the edge as he stretched to pull himself up and into it. The boat rocked against the weight of him.
A splash came from something unseen.
“Help him,” she said on a sob.
I sprinted to the edge, but Anya caught my hand and held me back, gesturing to that swirl in the water to our left.
That churning now calm.
“Jesus.” My glare snapping back to where Glassman was chest-deep. “Get out! Get out of there!”
Glassman reached for one of the gold bars, his face contorted into triumph. The boat tipped as he pulled on the side of it to clamber up—capsizing it.
He surfaced, this time trying to climb onto the upside-down boat, struggling to make it.
Glancing at Anya, I turned my focus back on the man who was frantically trying to pull himself out of the water while his hands kept slipping off the base.
And then he wasn’t there.
There was splashing. Violent thrashing. Water circling.
Grabbing Anya, I turned her the other way, not allowing her to see the horror of it.
Not that far away, a heron watched on with cold indifference, uniquely mastered by nature.
Gliding my flashlight over the swamp, those grey murky waters, I stared at the ripples expanding and then calming.
A circle of bubbles lifted to the surface.
A gator.
An eerie stillness followed.
The upside-down boat drifted into the darkness.
A chorus continued as though the creatures didn’t even care.
Anya leaned against me, and I wrapped my arm around her, pulling her close and closer still, knowing the swamp had taken him.
Anya
Drenched in terror, I clung to Cassius as we stood on the bank looking out at the surface of the water, glassy and now still.
I didn’t know how to feel and didn’t know what to think anymore as my eyes scanned the surface of the green water.
Unsure of these feelings. The loss heavy even as his cruelty left shadows within me. He’d planned on letting me die—ironically at the hands of the man who stood beside me.
The man who’d ended up saving me instead.
“It was quick, right?” I asked, even now conflicted at the horror of that kind of death.
“It was, Anya.”
Even after all Stephen had done, my heart searched for understanding.
“Where are they?” I whispered.
Cassius grimaced in pain.
And I then realized. “You were shot? Are you okay?”
Pressing his hand to his side, he reassured me. “Flesh wound. A graze, really.”
“Let me see.” I tugged at his shirt and pulled it up. By some miracle, the bullet had left only a superficial wound. “We need to get you to a hospital.”
He frowned. “I’m fine, I’m more concerned about you.”
“Cassius, you have to tell me where they are.”
“Stop.” He stepped into me, his arm reaching out, his fingers touching my jaw and tipping my face up. “They’re fine. I’ll take you to them, but first I need to do this.”
He cupped my face, and his lips touched mine. He breathed life back into me with a brutal kiss. Like he thought he would never kiss me again.
Against my mouth, he whispered, “I love you. I love you so fucking much it scares me. I thought—”
I stopped him with my own mouth then. There was no need to talk about what-ifs. We had both lived through this and had survived because of each other.
His arms wrapped tight around me, and we lost ourselves in this embrace for a moment. Our kiss spoke of all the pain we had been through but had come out stronger, having endured this together.
“I love you too,” I responded against his lips. After our mouths pulled apart, my eyes stung a bit but I felt a surge of so much emotion for this man standing in front of me. “I am unequivocally in love with you Cassius.”
Neither of us moved for a beat, letting the moment wash over us. Then, when we were sure this was real, Cassius pulled back. “I know what you need.”
“To see Archie.”
“He’s at the house.”
Relief washed over me that he was safe.
“And the others,” he whispered.
Words stuck on my tongue as the reality set in. I was going to meet the real Anya. The real Archie. I was going to see them.
“If they are back in the world,” I whispered, pushing the fears out of my mouth, “who does that make me?”
“It makes you Anya. It makes you mine. It makes you the strongest woman I know.”
Interlocking our fingers, we walked back the way we’d come, nudging the moss out of our way.