Chapter 41

41

Bodhi

Churning, hungry water yanked me below, trying valiantly to suffocate me in a murky death. My body was so cold that I was wracked with shivers as it attempted to heat itself. But all the shivers and icy temperature did was slow my coordination.

Still, I fought to the surface, the image of Emmett jumping off the bridge forever burned into my retinas.

Sputtering, I wrestled the water, not seeing the large branch barreling toward me until it was too late.

Scraaape.

The rough wet wood dragged across my cheek on its way past, taking a layer of skin with it.

“Goldilocks!” The voice sent a surge of adrenaline through me.

“Em-mett!”

“I’m here, Bodhi! Here!”

A wave crashed over my head, pushing me under and swirling me around. My limbs and clothes were tugged and pulled. One of my shoes was carried away completely.

Again, I found the surface, my lungs greedy for air. I was growing tired, the night catching up to me… My life catching up to me .

“Keep swimming,” Emmett called.

There was still so much space between us. Too much.

“I c-can’t.” I thrashed, vision starting to dim.

Tangled in the water’s grasp, I dipped below the surface, this time with no way of knowing which way was up. Overcome by anxiety, I gazed through the gloomy brown to find my sister’s bloated face staring back at me. Her hair floated out around her like snakes on Medusa’s head, and her eyes were wide and accusing. The floral dress she’d worn the last night of her life seemed too cheerful to be involved in a murder, but I learned the hard way that looks could be deceiving. Blood on her forehead dripped into her brow. I opened my mouth to ask her why the water didn’t wash it away but got a mouthful of gritty silt instead.

I coughed, air bubbling out around me, bursting right in front of my face. Still, Brynne floated there. Haunting me… always haunting me. Blaming me for her death.

“I’m sorry!” My scream was muffled by the water, but I knew she heard it anyway.

As I stared, she lifted her finger and pressed it to her lips. Shhhhh.

The water and her body faded away, and the pummeling current no longer assaulted me. Everything was blissfully still.

I was standing in the shadows of the pool at Pembrook, watching an unfolding scene. A scene I knew all too well. A scene my therapist constantly wanted me to imagine, but I never would.

It seemed that right now, though, my mind’s last wish before death stole all was for me to relive the night Brynne died.

I saw them arguing, watched their lips move, but couldn’t hear their words. I strained, leaned closer, but to no avail. Brynne yanked her wrist free from Lucas Cobalt’s grasp, and his eyes and nostrils flared.

Gone was the arrogant swimmer, and in his place was an angry man who didn’t like to be told no.

He pulled her back, and she shoved him.

He grabbed her and smashed their lips together.

She bit him, and he wrenched back, pressing the back of his hand against his lip.

She spit at his feet, my sister, the original brat, and the curtain of her hair fanned out around her as she rushed away.

Cobalt was bigger. Faster. He grabbed her arm, tugged her around, and raised his hand at the same time. He open-palm slapped her with enough force to send her flailing backward.

She slipped.

Fell.

The crack of her skull would forever haunt my nightmares.

Cobalt picked her up and tossed her into the pool. The water slowly seeped into her hair, her clothes…

The vision faded, and I was back in the river, my lungs on fire, vision hazy. I kicked toward the surface, but my legs were sluggish.

Try again.

I can’t. I’m tired. My sister is dead.

You can. I believe in you. The last words Emmett had said as I slipped under the water cut through everything else.

Emmett who literally jumped off a bridge to get to me. Emmett who was looking for me right now.

And just like that, I knew. I knew who I was, who I wanted to be.

A fighter.

No more giving up. No more licking my wounds and accepting defeat. Sure, I was a fuck-up, but I wasn’t the only one. If everyone else could start over, then I sure as fuck could too.

And I knew exactly what I wanted. Who I wanted.

The anxiety and trauma throwing punches and holding me under? I started swinging back. And all this water? Well, I was Elite.

I might not have been as conditioned as I once was, but I was still a swimmer and a fucking good one at that. All the training I’d told myself I’d forgotten clicked, and I started moving through the water, pulling myself to the surface, saving myself from drowning.

The second I was above, I searched for Em, finding him farther away than before.

“Em!” I yelled, dipping a little but pushing right back up. “Em!”

He didn’t look like he had before, his body moving with the current instead of against it.

He’s in trouble.

The distance between us might have been daunting, but the reward at the end was worth it. He was worth it.

Doubling down, I swam through the waves, letting the current push me closer until my fingertips met his skin. Grabbing his arm, I towed him in, pushing his face to the side and smacking his cheek.

“Em!” I panted. “Emmett!”

His lashes fluttered, but he didn’t open his eyes.

Reaching beneath the surface, I fumbled until I found what I knew would be around his neck and pulled it free.

My first attempt was weak, water spurting everywhere.

The second time, it was a little stronger, and the watery whistle blew.

His lashes lifted, and I let the whistle fall between us and covered his lips with mine, forcing air into his mouth.

He pulled back, wide-eyed and stunned. “Don’t give me your air! You need it more than me.”

A laugh bubbled up inside me alongside my swelling heart.

“I love you,” I confessed because I almost never got the chance.

He crushed our lips together, his beard abrasive against my icy skin and the lack of heat between us a mere afterthought.

A wave smacked into us, and he cursed, pulling back and turning his shoulders to block me from the worst. “We need to get the hell out of here.”

We worked together, both of us swimming to get to the bank. I collapsed partway out, landing in grass and mud but too tired to even cringe.

I lay on my back, body completely spent, as the chilly night air tried to peel my skin off my damn bones. My teeth started chattering, and then a heavy weight fell on top of me, not at all warm but a nice buffer for that skin-ripping wind.

“You are so getting a spanking for this.”

Laughter gurgled out of me, something that felt so foreign and probably inappropriate considering the entire situation, but I couldn’t hold it in.

“I mean it,” he groused. “Your ass is going to hurt for a week.”

“Yes, Daddy,” I whispered, turning my face toward his.

Our gazes met, never once looking away. I’d seen him many times, but I’d never seen him like this.

I’d never seen him through the eyes of a fighter instead of a victim. Turned out I loved him just as much through both.

“You swam out there,” he said, his voice gravelly as though his vocal cords were wrecked.

I nodded. “Those waves were gnarly.”

“Fought your trauma to help me fight mine.”

“We don’t have to fight alone anymore, Em. We have each other now.”

His eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot, his lips nearly colorless against his beard. Water dripped off his nose, and his Adam’s apple bobbed. “I’m never gonna let you go.”

I made a sound. “You made that clear when you leaped off a fucking bridge.”

Instead of laughing, he nodded solemnly. “There is nothing I won’t do for you, Goldilocks. I love you.”

“Stay where you are!” a loud voice boomed over some sort of microphone. “Help is on the way!”

Leaning around Em’s shoulder, I gazed up at the bridge, which was flickering with red and blue light and swarming with emergency responders.

“Looks like someone called the cops,” I said.

He scowled. “Probably the wanker who blasted his horn and made you fall.”

“Hey,” I said, forgetting once more about the outside world. “Lance really died by suicide?”

A haunted look passed through his eyes. “Jumped off that cursed fucking bridge.”

My eyes rounded.

“Never go on that bridge again,” he whispered.

As if him leaping off it hadn’t already meant so much, now it meant even more.

“Never,” I vowed. Then, “Em?”

“Hm?”

Laying my hand on his cheek, I said, “I wasn’t going to jump. I’m not suicidal. I never have been. Not even after Brynne was murdered. I might have been reckless, but I never wanted to die.”

Some of the tension around his eyes softened. “That’s good because I don’t want to live without you.”

“Raise your hand if you can hear me!” someone called from the top of the embankment.

Emmett immediately raised his hand.

“We’re coming down!”

I started to shift beneath him, planning on sitting up, but he caught my chin and held me still. “I meant what I said before. I love you. I’m done hiding it. My job and reputation be damned. It’s you and me now, Goldilocks. I’m all in. All the time.”

Maybe I shouldn’t have found it romantic that this man would give up so much to love me. That it seemed loving me would require it.

But damn, if I didn’t want to roll around in the knowledge that he was willing to give it all up to choose me.

“Everything?” I whispered.

“And then some.”

Two responders appeared, and Em rolled away.

“Him first,” he told them, pointing to me. “I’ll be fine as long as he’s okay.”