Chapter 3
DEREK
“No!”
I shout a helpless denial as the car ahead of me tips even further over the bridge.
It would be horrifying on its own.
But Emily’s in it.
My Emily.
The woman I love. The woman I’m supposed to protect.
Except I didn’t. I let her go off on her own while I talked about nothing with a guy I hadn’t seen in close to ten years. And now—
Shit.
Shit.
With a hard wrench of the steering wheel, I pull onto the shoulder of the road and jam my foot on the brake. The tires squeal. The car rocks at the abrupt shift of motion.
Just ahead, maybe twenty feet away, the gray sedan I’ve been tracking for the last fifteen minutes dangles precariously over the river. The torn guardrail digs into the side of the car, stopping it—at least for now—from toppling over.
Somewhere behind me, the clamor of sirens swells. But it doesn’t overtake the thunderous beat of my heart.
My Emily is in there.
She needs me.
It repeats like a litany as I throw my car into park and fling open the door.
Emily is in there.
She needs me.
I race around to the trunk and rip it open with such force I’m surprised it doesn’t fly off. Then I snatch up the coil of tow rope tucked in the back; the one I’ve never used but always carry just in case.
Uncaring of the horns blasting and the frantic shouts all around me, I sprint towards the wounded sedan. With every step, terror builds. Gruesome scenarios inspired by the horrors I’ve seen come at me from all directions.
It’s hard to breathe past them.
Emily unconscious and bleeding out from a gunshot wound.
Emily’s body broken beyond repair.
Blood bubbling from her mouth from internal bleeding.
Her bright blue eyes dulling as death takes over.
It can’t be true, my heart insists. She has to be okay. She has to be.
But I know all too well how indiscriminate death can be.
It can take the best people while leaving the truly evil ones alone.
And Em…
She’s the best person I’ve ever known.
“Stay back!” someone yells. “The police are coming! Let them handle this!”
I pay the warning voice no heed. Instead, I run faster.
If I cared to waste my breath, I’d tell them that the woman I love is in there.
That, thanks to the investigative resources of Indy’s company, I was able to follow the signal of Emily’s phone to find her.
That I caught a glimpse of her distinctive hair above the passenger seat, so I know she has to be in there.
“As long as she’s got a phone or smartwatch on her,” Indy told me, “we can use GPS to find her location. Once we get a hit on it, we’ll loop you in with real-time updates. They should hopefully get you close enough to ID the car and notify the police.”
“I’m not waiting for the police,” I replied grimly. “Once I find Em, I’m getting her out of there myself.”
Indy didn’t try to convince me otherwise because he’d do the same. And he knows I have the skills to back up my claim.
Or at least I used to, before I lost my leg.
Pain flares as my jaw clenches.
I have to be enough to save her.
Unless you got here too late, a terrible, doubting voice reminds me. Unless she’s already gone. And all my training, the hours of physical therapy, and my skills as a combat medic will mean nothing.
No.
Ruthlessly, I slam the door shut on that train of thought.
What-ifs mean nothing, I remind myself. Speculation doesn’t help. Just get there, assess the scene, and figure out a way to get Em out of there. Everything else can come after that.
The cacophony of sound grows as I near the edge of the bridge. Worried voices buzz. Shouted warnings are heard and quickly dismissed. The rhythmic whoop of sirens approaches.
But nothing is louder than the frantic drumbeats echoing in my head.
I thought I knew fear before. If I’d been asked before today, I would have said the moment when the IED exploded was the most terrifying moment of my life.
Breathless, weightless, flying through the air, not knowing if I’d survive or if my parents would receive the dreaded notification that I’d been killed in action, I couldn’t have imagined anything more frightening than that.
But I hadn’t met Emily yet.
I didn’t know what it was like to love like this.
I had no idea of the paralyzing fear that comes with knowing the most important person in the world is in danger, and the impotent helplessness that comes with it.
Just as I reach the car, screeching tires sound from behind me. A strident, commanding voice calls out, “Back off! Stand clear! This is police business!”
No way.
Not when I’m so close.
Ignoring the orders of the police officers arriving on the scene, I carefully circle the gray sedan so I can peer inside it. It’s tricky, with the way it’s hanging at an angle, and I don’t want to do anything that could trigger it to move further.
“Em!” I shout as I try to get a better look inside. From my vantage point, all I can see is the back of the rear seat, with no sign of anyone inside. But that’s not possible. Someone had to be driving. And I saw Emily’s hair—
Unless you imagined it, the doubting voice interrupts. Unless you were only tracking her phone, and she’s someplace else entirely.
I’m not sure if that would be good news or bad right now. I wouldn’t know where she is, but at least she wouldn’t be in a car only minutes—seconds?—from falling into the Mohawk.
Choosing to believe she’s in there, I call loudly, “Em! It’s Derek! Don’t move. I’m going to get you out of there!”
As I begin to unwind the tow rope slung over my shoulder, I hold my breath in hopes of a response. Anything to tell me Em’s inside and able to talk to me.
“You can’t be here!” a man barks, and this time, I spare a quick glance over my shoulder at him. As I expected, it’s a police officer, glowering at me. “What are you doing?” he demands. “Back the fuck off. Now.”
“No,” I snap. “My girlfriend is in there.”
He blinks. The anger in his expression fades as it’s replaced by understanding. In a gentler tone, he says, “Look, man. I get it. You want to help her. But you’re not trained for this. Our rescue team is en route. Just hang tight, and let them do their job.”
Almost as if the car heard him and wants to prove him wrong, it tips forward with a groan of creaking metal.
My heart stalls.
Ice encases my lungs.
For a moment, I’m frozen. Helpless. All I can do is watch in breathless horror, praying the car won’t fall.
Please, I silently plead to anyone listening. Keep her safe. Just give me a few minutes, just a few, to get her out of there.
The metal car groans again.
Metal screeches as the guardrail drags against it.
“Fuck,” the officer mutters. “Ah, fuck. It’s going over.”
And for a moment, I think he’s right.
That I’m going to watch the car plummet into the water.
I even scan the river below, trying to figure out the depth and where the best place would be to jump in. I don’t have the proper tool to break the windows, but if I can get my prosthetic off, maybe I could use that to weaken the glass instead.
Then it stops.
Now hanging at a sixty-degree angle, it’s almost impossible to see inside it.
“Em!” I scream, feeling as close to panic as I’ve ever been. “Em!”
“Derek!”
At the sound of her voice, my legs go weak.
“Em!” Relief unlocks my muscles, and I rush to the nearest unbroken part of the guardrail, then start tying the tow rope to it.
My fingers fumble over the slick yellow rope at first, and I have to take a steadying breath before trying again. “Em! Don’t move!”
“I’m trying not to,” she calls back. She sounds scared. Tearful. But her voice is still strong, giving me hope she’s not terribly injured. “But… Derek. The car. You can’t be this close—”
“I’m getting you out,” I interrupt. “I promise.”
What if you can’t, that nagging, skeptical voice starts. What if—
Shut up, I tell it. I’m. Getting. Her. Out.
“Look, man. This isn’t safe. Just stop what you’re doing and back away.” It’s the officer again. This time, his tone is carefully pacifying, like he’s worried I might do something rash if he doesn’t stop me.
Which, if you consider tying myself to a guardrail with a tow rope and attempting a rescue from a car dangling half-off a bridge as rash, makes him right.
But it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve risked my life to help someone. And the reward is worth far more than the risk.
“I’m going,” I say, my voice brooking no argument. “Don’t try to stop me.”
With a final tug at the knot holding the rope to the guardrail, I take the other end and loop it around my waist. As I begin making another knot, I call out, “I’m coming down. Once I get to the passenger door—” I stop. “You’re in the passenger seat, right?”
There’s a beat of silence. Then Emily replies, “Yes. I’m still there. I put my seatbelt back on to keep from falling. I thought it might help.”
“That’s fine.” I give the knot at my waist a firm pull to make sure it’s solid. Then I walk to the edge of the bridge and look over it.
A flash of red-gold hair appears. Then a glimpse of a pale face. Relief wars with panic, because as much as I want to see Em, I don’t want her moving and endangering herself, either.
“Stay still,” I order, fear making my voice rough. “Just stay there, Em. Wait for me.”
As I begin to lower myself over the edge of the bridge, someone above says speculatively, “Did you see his leg? There’s no way he can do it. He’s going to kill himself.”
Another person replies, “Hopefully, he doesn’t knock the car into the water and kill everyone in it, too.”
I want to argue with them.
Tell them that I’ve spent hundreds—maybe thousands—of hours in the gym since my injury, making my body as strong as it possibly can be. That I’m not just some regular guy with a hero complex. That I used to be an Army Ranger, and I was trained to do things just like this.
But it doesn’t really matter what they think of me. It doesn’t matter if they think I’ll fail. All that matters is having Em in my arms again.
“Derek!” Emily calls out when I’m a few feet from her door. “Stop! You need to get Kylie first!”
Confusion slows my descent. “What?”