Max Dread
I hummed with each compression. A rhythm I couldn’t forget. Even in my sleep.
“Landon?” Kingston’s voice rang out from beyond the cave. “Quinn, are you in here?”
“Kingston!” Quinn cried out. “Down here!”
He came into view a second later. Dropping into the cavern, he ran to the edge.
As he slid down, Quinn’s hands shook harder.
And I just kept going.
“Kingston!” She sobbed as he appeared. “Kingston, he—”
Blue-gray eyes stricken with fear, he raced over to her, but he didn’t make it far before he froze.
His gaze fell on Landon. “No.”
Quinn’s voice broke. “Kingston, he’s not breathing. He—”
And I didn’t know what I’d been expecting.
The same fucking mask he always wore? The impassive, shuttered King I believed he was? Unbothered at the sight? Unwilling to shed a tear over death? Even for a fallen Knight.
Not even for his best friend.
Had I thought that would be his reaction?
Yeah, I didn’t get things right every time.
But had I been expecting what Kingston did next?
Not in a million years.
Tearing off his jacket, Kingston rushed forward to meet us—to get to him.
He ripped the cuffs off his shirt as he pushed them up his forearms. And he went straight to where Quinn sat beside Landon’s head.
She moved aside to make room for him. She didn’t fight him. Even though her hands never left Landon’s body. Even though I could feel it—her desperation to save him—radiating off her in waves.
She came to my side, shuffling over on her knees as the King dropped to his.
Beside his best friend’s head, his features hardened.
“No, you do not get to do this,” he growled, his voice fierce but broken.
Kingston glanced at me, his eyes assessing what I was doing, and I obeyed the order he didn’t give. I paused, sitting back on my heels, and he jumped in.
He took Landon’s face in his hands, sealing their lips together and exhaling—fighting to breathe life—into his best friend’s lungs. Head tilted back. Chin lifted.
Two breaths.
Controlled. Precise.
As if he’d done it a million times.
As if he knew exactly what he had to do.
Even if nothing had prepared us for something like this.
Not even experiencing it with Bill all those years ago. Definitely not the CPR course I took afterward, so I could make sure Diane never had that look on her face again.
The one I now saw on Quinn’s.
Kingston released Landon’s face, sliding to his side as I pressed my fingers into his neck. He resumed the compressions on his chest, acting out the script we’d been taught at different times.
Two rounds.
Then a pulse check.
Sure I’d felt the weak thrum of a pulse, I pressed harder.
But I couldn’t find it. I didn’t know if it was just my hope, or Kingston’s, rebounding through my fingertips.
I stared at him as he fought to save him, like there was only one way this could end. As he moved diligently. Unwilling to stop until he reached the only acceptable outcome.
And if there was a way to bring someone back from the brink of death by sheer force of will, only Kingston could have done it.
He pumped his arms, forced the beat of Landon’s heart, as if his own life depended on it.
And for the first time, I saw him—saw them—clearly.
“You do not get to do this.” Kingston’s voice cracked again before he cleared his throat. Forcing strength into every word, he spoke with each thrust of his arms. “You will not.”
Quinn shuddered beside me, her hands covering her mouth and teeth chattering from the cold of her wet clothes.
Or fear.
“Do you hear me?” Kingston never took his eyes off Landon’s face. “You do not—” His voice broke. “You don’t get to do this. We haven’t—You do not get to leave me like this.”
She choked back a sob. “Kingston…”
“No.” But he wasn’t speaking to her. “No. I forbid it.”
I wrapped my arms around Quinn’s shoulders, holding her as we watched. As time went on and nothing changed.
“He needs—”
But before I could finish, Kingston was already moving. He lifted Landon’s chin. He tilted his head back, breathing for him again.
One breath.
Long and slow.
Then another. Chest wall rising high with the force of air rushing in, before falling again.
Kingston pulled back, jumping to return to his chest.
But a choking, gurgling sound filled the cave.
Water rushing out.
And their collective cry of relief that followed as Landon moved for the first time since I’d pulled him from it.
He coughed, his lungs fighting to expel the rest.
Kingston rolled him onto his side, keeping his airway clear. He held his head steady.
Quinn rubbed his back, quiet sobs breaking free from her throat even as she fought to swallow them.
And I knelt, frozen, watching them from a distance.
When Landon’s cough subsided, Kingston pressed his head to his Knight’s shoulder. A choked sob broke free from his throat, so filled with relief, it constricted my chest.
With tears in his eyes, he stared into Landon’s, his smile bright with hope.
Landon’s body shook. “Kingston…?”
“You’re alright,” Kingston breathed, awe and relief potent in every word. “You’re alright now.”
Quinn dropped her head, resting it beside theirs as her tears fell freely. Her small fingers clenched Landon’s shirt. Kingston’s hand came over hers, and they stayed that way for a minute, reveling in being together. Alive.
And I watched them from the outside.
For the first time, sure, I wanted to be a part of it.
All of it.
Together, they slowly eased Landon onto his back, and I reached forward to help. Quinn sat up beside me and leaned into my body. Pulling me into their fold without saying a word.
But a gasp echoed in the cavern.
And the happiness on Kingston’s face morphed into horror as Landon’s eyes rolled back in his head.
“Landon?” Kingston pressed his head closer. “Landon!”
He didn’t say anything.
“No!” Quinn screamed. She grabbed Landon’s body while I held onto her. “Landon, no!”
Kingston’s fingers dug into his neck, hunting for a pulse. He rose quickly off his heels, but his brow furrowed. He pressed down harder.
I placed my fingers over Landon’s artery on the other side, feeling the erratic, thready pulse beneath his icy skin. And I stared at Kingston.
Eyes wide, his gaze was torn between his best friend’s face and his chest. He froze.
Unsure what to do next.
Because Landon’s heart was beating on its own.
But it was wrong—the rhythm, unsteady. We needed more than what we had now to understand how to save him.
Compressions—they couldn’t help him.
So, if there had been a way to bring someone back from the brink of death by sheer force of will, I believed Kingston would have done it.
But he couldn’t.
Because nothing had prepared him for something like this.He couldn’t save him. Not alone.
But life had prepared me.
I raised my fist.
Thumping it down hard, I hit a spot right over Landon’s heart. Like I’d seen one other time. In one final, desperate attempt to save a life—to jolt an unsteady rhythm just enough that it would normalize.
Silence filled the cave.
The seconds after lasted for an eternity.
Quinn stared at me in shock over what I’d done.
Kingston blinked through his, unable to tear his eyes from Landon, hands poised to restart compressions.
I placed two fingers on Landon’s neck, nodding to Kingston when his pulse thrummed beneath them.
Weak and thready, but it was there.
Then we heard it.
A sound none of us would forget.
A tight, pained gasp.
Landon opened his eyes. First meeting Kingston’s blue-gray, filling with tears, and then hers, shining with relief.
Her soft cry filled the cavern. She bent toward him, Kingston’s tightened his grip on Landon’s arm, and their bodies shook. I witnessed their fear shift to joy.
Then, love.
And it changed everything.
But, too quickly, it all faded away.
His pulse slowed beneath my fingertips.
I pressed down harder, staring at the back of her head, unable to imagine telling her we hadn’t saved him.
That it hadn’t been enough.
As his eyes fell shut, he whispered, “I’m yours.”
Then, Landon Scott—my sworn enemy, his Golden Boy, and her White Knight—exhaled a quiet, shaky breath.
And went back into the dark.