Chapter Twenty-Six Evie
Chapter Twenty-Six
Evie
I don’t think before I act.
I run, diving into the man-made lake where Chase just fell in. He was bound, his chair connected to a tension wire that snapped the moment I opened the door.
Cold water rushes around me, murky and dark, as my arms push fast, dragging through the water as I kick like hell. I’m swimming harder than I ever have, following the glimmer from the metal leg of the chair all the way down fifteen feet to the bottom.
This isn’t a real lake, just a fucking hole in the dirt. But we could still drown and die in this watery grave. Water whooshes around me, my eyes straining and stinging as air bubbles surround me, tickling my skin as I go deeper.
He hits the bottom, kicking up the dirt around it as he lands on his side, and I all but scream underwater.
Oh god. He can’t die like this.
My lungs are already starting their protest because I was already spent from running, but I won’t stop until I get him out.
I reach out, kicking the last couple of feet before I grab him. He’s struggling, his hair lifted off his face as we stare at each other, but I can’t lift him off the ground.
My face shifts around. I’m frantic, my lungs beginning to burn, as I swim around him, trying to pull the duct tape off his wrists.
Goddammit.
Screams that are caught in my throat warble underwater as my body twists because I can’t fucking get the tape off. Chase’s eyes stay locked to mine, and I shake my head, because he’s telling me to leave him.
I can’t. I won’t.
He motions with his head, but I don’t listen, still looking for a way to free him. But he does it again, and this time my eyes follow.
Oh my god.
His knife.
When I jumped in, I had it in my hand, but I must’ve let it go, and it followed me down. I swim to it quickly, kicking and turning my body, desperately wanting to take a breath before I reach for it, pulling it out of the dirt.
Burning seeps over my chest as I bring the blade to his wrists and cut through the tape like butter.
Chase’s arms rip from the chair, flying at his side as he frees the tape around his mouth. It twists, floating in the water next to us as I swim to his feet and cut there too.
We’re encased in dirty water, pushing against the ground, kicking and fighting, the knife abandoned again as we swim to the top.
But I feel like I’m not going to make it.
My arms begin to slow, my eyes locked on him above me. Chase looks down and reaches out, grabbing the back of my shirt and hauling me with him.
Water breaks and splashes around us as we breach the smooth surface. Sucking in sweet, blessed air. He’s gasping and coughing, as I do the same.
We’re alone, wading, my arms already sore as we stare at each other.
Because we’re alive.
Sobs begin to rumble my chest as I break. But it’s not sadness. It’s relief. I’m so fucking grateful that he’s okay. I got here in time.
Chase wraps a strong arm around my waist, keeping us both afloat as I hug him, my face in the crook of his neck. The tears won’t stop.
I feel him swimming us back to the edge, and I look up into his eyes.
“Missed you,” he whispers with a grin.
I kiss him, hearing him hiss because his lip’s split, but when I pull back, his hand cradles the back of my head, keeping me in place.
We sigh into each other, savoring the moment.
But it’s over too fast, because we’re still in danger. He pushes me up onto the dock first before I turn and lie on my stomach, reaching down to help him out as well.
Water’s dripping from us, pooling around our feet, and my clothes feel too heavy as we stand silently, the euphoria of our reunion wearing off.
“We have to get out of here,” I whisper.
He starts to say something, but there’s a creak outside, coming from the side of the building.
Shit.
I bring my finger to my lips to tell him to be quiet, but he’s already looking around for another way out. Except there’s only the door.
And that’s half opened, still swaying from bouncing off the wall. Another creak. Someone’s coming.
Our fifteen minutes are up.
I come close to Chase’s ear and whisper, “We need to get to the car. Goldie was hurt, but I think Noah will be waiting for us there. It’s Remus, Chase . . . he’s the one—”
Chase grabs my face, turning his quickly to stare into my eyes. “No . . . baby, it’s not. Evie . . .”
But before he can finish his sentence, the door slams against the wall, and a set of familiar eyes walks through the door.
Followed by another.
My own eyes are saucers, and it feels like the wind’s been knocked out of my tired lungs. “What . . . what are you doing?”
Derek and Devin stand together, smiling before they exchange a glance, Derek taking the lead.
“Surprise, Evie. Betcha didn’t see that coming.”