If I’d had more faith in you…if I hadn’t been such a jackass, you wouldn’t have suffered…you wouldn’t have come out here alone.
I hang in there for a while, but my arms are starting to tire. Mother Nature doesn’t give a damn that I want to live, that I want to save Elizabeth with everything I have. I retighten my grip, my muscles burning and straining. I didn’t come this far just to let go at the last minute.
I raise my face to the stormy sky. “I’m going to live through this. You hear? I’m going to make things right with Elizabeth even if I have to swim through a sea of molten lava! I’m not letting some weather rip it all away!”
Gritting my teeth, I start to process the scene around me. The waves are still rough, but they’re slowly becoming smaller and less vicious. The water isn’t cold, so that’s a plus. No hypothermia—yet—although Elizabeth is too cold for my peace of mind.
My phone presses against my thigh, but it’s probably dead after taking such an extended dunk in salt water. The only hope left is Antoine. Hopefully he’ll realize that I’ve been gone too long and come searching.
As soon as I think it, I vaguely see a tall figure moving along the beach. I can’t make out who it is—my vision’s just okay without my contacts, but I don’t think it’s the asshole who tried to kidnap Elizabeth. This person’s gait is too brisk, too fresh.
The other guy yells something. I think it’s my name. Or maybe I’m hallucinating. Who gives a shit either way as long as he can see me?
“Help! Over here!”
Holding on to Elizabeth and the rock, I yell, salt in my mouth and my throat raw, praying he hears me over the storm. The other guy waves, broad strokes of his arm in the driving rain.
I give a shuddering prayer of thanks to whatever being watching over me and Elizabeth when lifeguards and paramedics arrive on the scene soon after. If they think we’re idiots for being in the water, they don’t show it. I make sure they take Elizabeth first.
They take us efficiently into an ambulance and wrap me in a blanket. I’m like a mannequin, letting them do whatever they need, but I maintain watch on Elizabeth. She looks so small and frail on the gurney.
“Is she going to be okay?” I ask.
“We’re going to take care of her, don’t worry,” one of the paramedics says. “Let’s make sure you’re okay.”
Suddenly it hits me: Elizabeth and I are safe. And with that realization, all the aches and pains start radiating through my muscles. My feet and ankles are so damn sore and stinging that I can’t help but wince.
“We’ll need to get those cleaned and treated,” the same paramedic says, gesturing at the cuts and scrapes.
“Her first.”
“We can take care of both of you.”
I shake my head, hugging myself and clenching my arms hard with shaking hands. The paramedics are just doing their job, but if they don’t make sure she’s okay now, I’m going to do something really stupid—like start yelling at them for wasting their time. I exhale long and hard. “Her first. I can wait.”
Antoine finds me as the paramedics look Elizabeth over. “Damn. So that really was you. I thought I was imagining it when I saw you bobbing up and down. Good thing I had a GPS app on your phone.”
I shoot him an incredulous look. “You put a spy app on my phone?”
“Not a spy app. It’s for when you get kidnapped or disappear or something. It worked out well, because without it, I might’ve not realized you were here…well, out in the water around here. The tracker showed this was the last spot you were in before your phone went out.” He glances in Elizabeth’s direction. “So she got swept up or something?”
I shake my head. “No. Some asshole dragged her out there.”
“Jesus.” He runs his fingers through his hair. “Did you at least get a good look so the cops can find him?”
My gut goes tight, and a familiar mix of anger, fear and frustration judders through me. Closing my eyes, I shake my head. “No. I lost my contacts in the storm. He seemed a bit familiar…but that’s it.”
“Somebody you know is after Elizabeth?” Antoine raises both eyebrows.
“I don’t know. Maybe. Maybe not. Hard to say. All I know for certain is that he isn’t local, and he was single-mindedly focused on her. Kinda like the creepy psycho who sent her the puppy package.”
Antoine curses.
“Probably the same guy.” I clench and unclench my hands, wishing the fucker were in front of me so I could turn him into a lifelong quadriplegic. “What are the odds that she has two determined creeps after her?”
“If what you’re saying is true, this is no ordinary psycho. He came all the way here to get her.”
“I know.”