Lindsay starts shaking her head. “I won’t be able to come back from this. I’ll be arrested. I want to hurt her. I want to make her hurt like I hurt. I want her dead.” Her tears increase, flooding my fears as her words repeat.
“You don’t,” I tell her. “You don’t want to live with that. You don’t want someone else to hurt. You haven’t done anything that you can’t come back from. Let’s keep it that way, okay? Let’s just take a deep breath, and put the gun down.”
She looks from me to Raegan. “How do I know this isn’t a trap?”
“Because he’s the most honest person you’ll ever meet,” Rae says. “And because I love them, both of them, and they won’t do anything to hurt you or me.”
Lindsay looks haunted and defeated—a concoction that scares me more than the anger that had been so visible because one doesn’t see reason or the potential loss when they already feel like they’ve lost everything. She moves, time slowing like so many movies have portrayed, like you know the moment is coming, allowing you to memorize every detail so you can appreciate it all one final time.
Raegan’s face falls, her arms dropping to her sides as she recognizes the same reality—my reality. Raegan screams, the sound masked by the gun firing.
41
Raegan
I slam into her, my weight taking her down easily. We fall fast and hard, her head hitting the lamppost, the sound eerily like that of a melon cracking and making my stomach churn before my knees and hands hit the slick wooden dock. The gun clangs against the boards near me. I reach for it, losing my grip as I do, my chest hitting the dock and knocking the air out of me before her legs slip from mine, and there’s a loud splash.
My attention shoots to Lincoln who’s crouched, his eyes impossibly wide. “Are you okay?” he asks, moving to stand.
I nod, my heart beating so fast, I’m dizzy. “I’m fine. Are you okay?”
He nods, climbing to his knees and then his feet.
“We have to help her.” I tear my attention away from Lincoln, though my entire body wants to reach for him, feel his heat, the security of his touch, the assurance of his kiss.
“She tried to shoot us,” Pax says, moving to Lincoln when I take too long.
“I know, but it’s his fault, not hers.” I glance back at the dark water, knowing she’s sinking farther into the depths with each second.
“Raegan!” Lincoln yells. “Don’t.”
I glance at him. “I won’t leave you. I promise. But, I can’t let her die. Our dad did this to her.”
Lincoln starts toward me. “If you jump in there, you’re crazy.”
I grin. It feels reckless and irrational, similar to my mood. “Fifteen seconds,” I tell him. “Also, I love you, too,” I say, and then I jump.
The contrast of the cold water flooding every inch of my body has my thoughts flashing back to that night I jumped in to save Blue. I feel imaginary tugs on my clothes, making my heart pound in my chest with fear as I thrash my arms to rid the invisible attack I know is only in my mind.
The water laps at my skin, a silent countdown in my head, echoing the dangers of being under for too long as I dive down, praying I have some chance to catch up with her.
I kick and push the water, swimming so deep I can barely see, my eyes burning with the tiny debris floating around and the salt.
Then, my hand brushes against something soft, making me cringe. Nightmares of the stories people have told for centuries about monsters that lurk in the depths of the Pacific make me nearly suck in a breath of the icy salt water, but then I feel the warmth of skin and fabric. I wrap my arms around her, everything weighing me down: my clothes, her, her clothes. I kick and push, clutching her dead weight as the time starts to speed up. Then, warm hands tap my arm, and through the dark and murky water, I see Lincoln, and beside him is Pax, here for me like he’s always been there for me. Lincoln grabs my hand, and Paxton takes her weight before shoving me upward. I follow Lincoln, kicking as my lungs start to burn, and my muscles start to ache. I clear the surface with a gasp, my breaths coming out in fast bursts as I suck in the night air, rain falling across my hair and face as I look for Lincoln.
He swims toward me, his hair pushed back, and his eyes still wild and wide. “Are you okay?” He cups my face, his eyes following the path of his fingers as he traces over me.
I nod, still shivering. “Are you okay? Did she hit you?” I ask, scouring the details of his face and expression.
Lincoln leans forward, his lips crashing against mine in a clumsy and cold kiss. “She missed. She hit the water.” He kisses me again, gentler this time. “God, you scared me.”
Tears pool in my eyes, but before I can answer, Pax surfaces several feet away, Lindsay still in his arms as he heaves a deep breath.
I tread water, attempting to ascertain the best way to help get her out, my arms and legs cutting through the water, the freezing temperatures feeling so different than they had that night with Blue, the fear inside of me nearly forgotten as the same comfort the ocean’s always provided returns. There’s no way I should have been able to reach Lindsay, not with how long it took me to dive in and the lack of visibility. The ocean helped me, I know it did, and I don’t question the how or why, I simply revel in the fact that my purpose and place feels renewed.
“I can’t tell if she’s breathing,” Pax says.
“We need to get her out.”
Lincoln appears beside me. “Let’s get her to the ladder. I’ll climb out, and I can pull her up. Time’s not going to be our friend.”
Lights start twisting in the air as we swim toward the dock, and then I hear Poppy yelling my name, and a man arguing with her to stay back. A police officer appears, shining his flashlight on us and blinding me. Then another officer appears, this one shorter.
“What’s going on?” the shorter officer asks.
Paxton shakes his head, all of us speechless for a moment as we digest the last few moments. Then, Dad appears, his brow furrowed, and his beard gone. “Raegan. Paxton.” He places a hand on his chest, his head tipping skyward, making my emotions feel weighted with a constant train of conflicting thoughts. “Thank God you’re both all right.” He looks at us and then Lindsay. “Is she okay?”
“I don’t think she’s breathing,” I tell him.
The officers each take a knee, helping to lift Lindsay out of the water before we follow, climbing up the rickety ladder.
The second our feet are on the dock, I catch sight of an officer doing chest compressions on Lindsay while another officer lays a blanket over her legs. A frantic chain of words are spoken, and then I see Dad. He hovers over her, watching and listening as intently as we do.
Responsibility and fear press on my lungs as I wait with bated breath. It’s a confounding and overwhelming sense of emotions that pass through me as I watch Lindsay lying there, knowing it was my dad and their list of broken promises and lies that led to this moment. And though I know I didn’t intentionally hurt her, I’m already thinking about how I could have done something—anything—differently so it didn’t end like this.