22. Chapter 22

twenty-two

Athena

T he look in Lucas’s eyes before the car left the road hit me just as hard as the water would three seconds later.

He had his back pressed hard against the seat and I realized at the last minute that he never actually took the time to buckle his seat belt. I reached toward him in a panic, but his stronger arm shoved hard against my shoulder, pushing my back firmly against the seat.

“I love y—” he began a second time.

No longer braced for impact, his words were abruptly cut off as the collision threw his chest hard against the steering wheel, his body lifting off the seat until the top of his head smacked into the windshield, leaving a large spider-webbing crack.

I barely had a chance to scream in horror before my breath caught with own pain as the seat belt caught me across the chest and sliced into my neck.

I moaned, feeling at my throat and rolling out my neck; the wound didn’t feel deep, but the cut was long and bleeding freely. Then my brain caught up with my body and remembered what was happening. I jerked my head to the side, looking at Lucas, whose body was lying on top of the steering wheel, unmoving, as our car slowly descended nose-first into the bay.

A shiver rocked my body, alerting me to the cold water at my ankles. I fought against panic, reaching for my seat belt, but it was locked in place while the water rose farther up my shins. I reached for the glove box, hoping for a knife or something, but couldn’t reach with the belt locked hard against my chest. I couldn’t reach my purse—hell, I couldn’t even see my purse—from where I was so I couldn’t get the small serrated folding knife I kept at the ready for situations exactly like this, but I could see Lucas’s keys in the ignition, complete with the little Swiss army knife dangling from the key ring. If I turned off the car I wouldn’t be able to roll down the windows to escape, but what was the point of trying to get out of the car if Lucas was unconscious and I was trapped? The water was already approaching my knees, quickly rising up my body as we angled ever downward.

I pulled the keys from the ignition, hurrying to unfold the knife. Would any of the blades be sharp enough to cut through the thick canvas of a seat belt?

The first two knifes were tiny and dull, but the third looked like it had been sharpened recently. I just couldn’t maneuver my body away from the knife far enough to get a good enough angle to cut a tear in the damn belt. I took a deep breath to stave off the panic, then opened the corkscrew to quickly drill through the seam on the edge of the belt, loosening the fibers enough for the blade to finish the job .

I was free just as the water reached my chest. I looked around. Now that I was free I had to figure out how to get us the hell out of the actual vehicle as fast as possible. With the downward tilt of the car, Lucas’s face was almost submerged, so I grabbed his shoulders, shoving him off the wheel and back into his seat, leaning his head against his window so he stayed propped up. The water was too high and too cold, but it would have to do for a few seconds.

I didn’t know if he was dead or not, but if he was alive I would not let him drown. Even if he was dead, I wouldn’t abandon his body in the ocean so his mother was left wondering if either of her kids would ever come home. I had to get out of the damn car and Lucas was coming with me, beating heart or no.

I quickly shrugged out of my blazer and turned my whole body in the water, moving more slowly than usual as I fought against the water resistance, and inspiration struck. I pressed the little button to free the head rest from the back of my seat, inspecting the thick metal bars sticking out of the bottom. It would have to do. I swam back a foot, doing my best to brace my feet and gather all the strength I had, then whipped the headrest, metal bars facing out, as hard as I could against the windshield, knowing it was already weak from Lucas smashing his head against it. I heard another distinct crack, but it didn’t break yet. I steadied my feet again, taking a couple extra seconds I didn’t have when my foot caught on the strap of my stupid purse—there it was—and swung again.

I felt the glass yield and dropped the head rest, reaching for Lucas with both hands as the water rushed in at us .

He was probably already dead, but I couldn’t let his mother grieve for another lost child, wondering if he’d ever return when she didn’t see his body in person.

I caught him by the collar of his shirt, but the current nearly forced the shirt off his body when I pulled against it, so I gripped his wrist tighter than I’d ever gripped anything in my life and hauled him through the broken windshield as the pressure equalized and the rush of water slowed. I managed to drag him onto the hood and finally had the space to unhook the damn purse wrapped around my ankle, putting my arm through the straps and bringing it up to my shoulder out of instinct. Then I did my best to wrap my arms around Lucas’s thick chest and pushed up with all the strength I had left in my legs against the hood. I felt the car drift farther down into the bay, but I also propelled our bodies upward—a good thing, too, since I was running out of air and Lucas had none.

I felt like I was dying, suffocating, until I finally breathed in air instead of water and felt the cold breeze against my face, freezing the icy water against my skin.

I gasped, but couldn’t give up the fight yet.

I tried the standard rescue swim, but Lucas’s body weight was too much for me to hold with one arm and paddle with the other. I couldn’t see how far we were from land, but it couldn’t be too bad, right? The car didn't go far before hitting the water.

I finally managed to float on my back, holding Lucas on his back across my torso so our semi-buoyant bodies together kept our heads above water. Once I felt I had the balancing act down, I just kicked like fucking crazy to propel us to shore. I couldn’t see it, but I could hear the commotion from too many bystanders and smell the fish being cooked in all the bayside restaurants more clearly than I could smell the fish in the water.

The top of Lucas’s head was a few inches below my chin and I could see the blood still falling from the wound on the side of his head, mostly masked by that stupid, perfect hair. If blood was flowing freely that was a good thing, right? Didn’t blood flow stop if someone was dead and their heart no longer beating?

In all this time I still hadn’t had a second to check if Lucas was breathing, and I was shivering too much from the cold water to feel if his chest moved as I held him.

The people were a lot louder, so we had to be close to shore. I could feel movement in the water near me, but I didn’t want to risk losing our balance and this position if my feet couldn’t touch the sand yet, so I just kept kicking with my legs until I felt a pair of strong hands grab hold of Lucas’s shoulders, heaving his body off mine.

As if his weight was the barrier, I could suddenly make out the individual voices in the crowd, gawking at the spectacle.

“Oh my God, is he dead?”

“What happened?”

“Georgie, has anyone called 911 yet? Call 911!”

I tentatively let my body weight drop, relieved to feel the ground below my feet. I stood, the water falling to my waist.

My vision started to blur as the adrenaline faded and shock began to take hold my body, but I grabbed hold of Lucas’s wrist as whoever came into the water to help us dragged him toward the shore, following alongside his still form.

“Is that man breathing? ”

“Is he dead? Can you see anything?” The water was down to my hips.

“What the hell were they doing?”

“I bet they were SoCal drivers from out of town. People down there can’t drive for shit.” My mid thighs.

“Idiots. I bet he wasn’t wearing a seat belt. I better not catch you without a seat belt on, James Lee Scott.” My knees.

“I know, Mom. If I didn’t get it before, I definitely get it now.” My shins.

Lucas was finally out of the water and I sunk down to my knees beside him, finally having the chance to feel for a heartbeat. I hesitated only a second, the fear of him being dead not as strong as the fear of him being dead and me not knowing.

I rested my head over his heart, arms wrapped around his waist, and held my breath.

One…Two…

His chest rose and fell. I gasped, then held my breath again.

One, two…He took another breath.

He was alive.

I let out a deep sob, feeling it rip from my chest all the way up my throat and releasing in a harsh cry.

He breathed again. Margaret Meedes wouldn’t need to lose another child.

My vision continued to swim, and the man at Lucas’ head who had helped me carry him out of the water kneeled in front of me, hands on my shoulders in a hard grip as I swayed on my knees.

The last thing I could see before everything went black was his bright green silk shirt and tattooed arms.