36. Kabir
Chapter 36
Kabir
“Ease off the throttle,” Sione encourages.
I do as he instructs, and when I reduce our forward momentum and bring the vessel to a steady deceleration, he nods approvingly.
We’re in the middle of the lake, just the two of us. He’s teaching me to operate a water vehicle in preparation for my upcoming boating license exam.
Kylian offered to issue a license to me—apparently that’s something he’s able to do—but I insisted on learning for myself.
I’m the only individual within my cohort who doesn’t know how to operate a boat, and I’m tired of relying on the others when I want to leave the isle.
It’s imperative since we intend to stay at the Crusade Mansion for the remainder of the spring and plan to visit Lake Como this summer as well.
Plus, Captain has a nice ring to it. It’s a touch American, but still honorific and esteemed. I quite like the idea of having Hunter call me Captain on occasion. As long as we steer clear of the colloquial and seemingly facetious “Cap,” as Decker Crusade is often called.
“Shall we practice dropping anchor once more before heading back?” Sione asks.
I nod but am quickly distracted by a notification on my phone.
There’s the usual ping, but the set of vibrations that follow has me puzzled and eager to check the screen.
The blaring alarm that’s sounding off by the time I pull the device from my trousers, though, turns my blood cold and sends my blood pressure soaring to life-threatening metrics.
“It can’t be.”
I stare, bewildered, at the alert flashing harshly on the screen.
“What’s happened?” Sione steps up beside me, hovering over my shoulder as if proximity will provide enlightenment.
I don’t answer. I can’t.
All I can do is stare at the red light pulsing on the screen.
The internal tracker embedded in Hunter’s neck does more than provide geo-location. The rice-size device is equipped with a full bio-feedback panel and a fall alert function.
It wasn’t that I was concerned that she had an increased risk of falling. I chose the additional feature so I could be informed of other sudden drops or jumps, should the intrusive thoughts take hold of her and motivate her actions once more.
They never did, thank gods. I haven’t worried about her in that way for years.
In fact, I had all but forgotten the sudden fall feature existed.
Fumbling, I silence the alarm, intent on calling her. Or them. But I’m clumsy in my pursuit. I can’t act fast enough. Can’t get my hands to follow the orders my brain is giving. I scroll, curse, press the wrong icon, then curse again.
“Here.” Sione lifts the phone from my hand. “Who am I calling?”
My brain short-circuits. She was with Garrett and Levi. Which one is most likely with her now?
“Levi. Call Levi.”
Swiftly, he finds his number, clicks on his name, then turns on speakerphone.
It rings and rings. We hover and wait.
When his voicemail picks up, I’m struck with the urge to snatch the phone away from Sione and chuck it into the godforsaken lake.
I settle for taking a cleansing breath and calmly asking him to try again.
The call goes to voicemail once more.
“Call Hunter,” I demand.
Her voice fills the silence, asking us to leave a message.
“Try Garrett.” I look from the mansion on one side of the lake to the marina on the other. We’re precisely midrange, equidistant from both shores.
It isn’t until the fifth ring, when I’m certain it’s going to voicemail, that he picks up.
We’re met with no greeting.
Instead, there’s commotion.
Yelling.
Muffled voices and clambering footsteps.
Garrett is screaming at his father, his voice far away. “Dad, make sure they send two ambulances. We need two units.”
Sione freezes, his eyes shooting up to meet mine.
A pit opens up in my abdomen while we stand side by side, unable to do anything but wait until Garrett gets onto the line.
All we know is that pandemonium has erupted at his father’s house, and the resulting turmoil sounds to be of catastrophic consequences.
Finally, after literal minutes pass by with nothing more than screams, sobs, and soft murmurs punctuating the line, Garrett says, “I’m here.” Before we get a word in, he adds, “Wait. Hang on.” Then a muffled “I’m going in the ambulance.”
I fight back every impulse to demand his attention and hammer him with questions.
“Garrett. We’re here,” Sione reminds him. Where his tone is calm, a tumult of emotions rages inside me.
“Hunter fell down a flight of stairs. Or, more likely, Magnolia pushed her. She’s covered in lacerations and likely has several broken bones. She’s currently unconscious. She might have—she—fuck.”
A sob escapes him, interrupting his report.
“Where are you headed?” Sione presses.
“Lake Chapel General. Through the ER. Meet us there.” With that, the call drops.
Sione shifts his focus to me and searches my face. His expression is even, subdued. How the fuck can he be so serene?
I sink to my knees, agony and utter disdain crashing over me in undulating waves. The scream that escapes me can likely be heard for miles. Everyone. Everywhere.
Good. Let them hear me. Let them fucking know. I’m coming, and I have no more restraint, resolve, or sensibility left to temper the vengeful beast inside me. Someone will pay. I’ll make sure of it.
I scream until my vocal cords fray and my larynx collapses.
Only then do I rise, reclaim my phone, and ask Sione to take me back to the Crusade Mansion. I’m fully prepared to enact the plan I’ve been plotting for weeks.