Chapter 3 #2
“Kylie,” she repeats. “She’s in the backseat. You need to get her out. Then come back for me.”
As soon as I had confirmation that Emily was in the front, my attention’s been focused on that. Oh, and the man still slumped over the deflated airbag in the driver’s seat, but honestly, considering he’s likely the one who took Em, I don’t give a shit about him.
But the back seat? I never considered that someone could be sitting there, too.
As I turn my focus to the back of the car, a wan face peers back at me.
Shit.
It’s a kid.
And that makes things a lot more complicated.
Selfishly, I want to get Emily out first.
But Em will never stand for that. When it comes to kids, she’d do anything for them. And I know damn well that if I try to rescue Em, she’ll refuse to go unless I take the little girl before her.
The girl—Kylie, I’m assuming—looks back at me with eyes wide with fear. She’s clearly been crying, and her chin is wobbling from the effort of holding back tears. She starts to reach towards the door handle, and Emily cries, “Stop!”
Kylie freezes with her hand outstretched.
The car shifts.
My heart leaps to my throat.
“Don’t move!” I shout.
My attention shifts to the front of the car, where Emily has her head turned to watch me. Tears are sliding down her cheeks, and there’s an acceptance in her gaze that makes me feel cold all over.
She doesn’t think she’ll get out of this, I realize. She doesn’t think there’s time to rescue them both. And she’s prepared to sacrifice herself so the little girl survives.
No way, I vow. I haven’t come this far to lose her now.
But the car is perilously balanced, and getting one of them out will be tricky enough. Now to open two doors and get both of them out…
Hesitating, I spin possibilities through my head.
Do I attempt two separate rescues? Or both at the same time?
Is it riskier to open one door or two? If I go with one door, should I have Em crawl into the backseat? Or Kylie into the front?
Car doors slam from the road above. A siren rises before abruptly cutting off. Then the officer who first approached me calls down, “The rescue team got held up by an accident. They’re still ten minutes out. We’re working on getting a guy down to help you.”
If I thought the position of the sedan were stable, I might be tempted to wait. But my gut is telling me time is short, and if I don’t do something right now, it might be too late.
With another quick look at the car, I make a decision.
I’ll open the back door and pull Kylie out first. Use the long end of the rope to tie her to me. Then I’ll have Emily crawl into the back and get her out from there. And hopefully the shifting weight in the car won’t make it fall before then.
And the man in the driver’s seat? He can wait for whoever’s coming down to help me.
“Okay,” I shout so Emily and Kylie can hear me. “I’m opening the back door. I’ll take Kylie out first. Em, as soon as I get Kylie, you’re going to climb into the back seat. Do you think you can do that?”
Under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t doubt it. Emily’s in great shape, and she’d be able to hoist her weight easily. But what if she’s hurt? What if she’s got broken ribs, and moving punctures a lung? What if—
“If you’re hurt,” I add quickly, “we can figure something else out.”
“I can do it,” she replies. “I’m not hurt. Just get Kylie out. I’ll make it work.”
Shit, I hate this. I don’t want Em to make it work. I want to make it work for her.
But times a wasting, as my grandfather loved to say, and I need to get moving. Bite the bullet, using another of his favorite phrases, and be the protector Em needs me to be.
So I take a deep, bracing breath, and I grab hold of the rear door handle. Then I carefully lift it and give the door an experimental tug while holding my breath.
It could be jammed from the impact of the crash. Or the slight movement could be all it takes to send the car into the river.
Or it could open, which it does.
At the movement, the car jerks forward, causing Emily and Kylie to yelp in fear.
My heart stops.
Please, I beg silently. I just need a little more time.
“Emily,” Kylie whimpers. “I’m scared.”
“It’s okay, honey,” Emily replies. “Derek’s going to get us out of here.” Her gaze meets mine, so filled with love it brings a sting of tears to my eyes. “Derek’s a hero. A real one.”
I can hear the collective intake of breath from the bystanders above as the car shifts a few inches further.
Then it stops.
Everyone sighs with relief.
“You’ll have to unbuckle your seatbelt,” I tell Kylie as I hold out my hand. “Try to use your legs to brace yourself, so you don’t fall. Then I want you to inch your way to me. Don’t rush. Nice and slow.”
Kylie looks at me solemnly. “You’ll hang on to me?”
“I will,” I tell her. “I promise.”
She has no reason to believe me. I’m just some random guy who showed up on what’s probably the worst day of her life. But she knows Emily trusts me, and I hope that’s enough.
It takes her close to a minute to get close enough for me to grab her hand.
Just as I’m wrapping my fingers around hers, the car lurches again.
A lightning-fast glimpse of Emily’s face shows she’s biting her lip so hard it’s bleeding.
Urgency has me saying, “Start moving, Em. I’m going to tie Kylie to me. By the time you’re close, I’ll be ready for you.”
“Tie me to you?” Kylie asks, her voice pitching up. “Does that mean you’re going to let me go?”
“I have to have my hands free for Emily,” I tell her. As I wrap the long end of the rope around Kylie’s waist, I add, “The rope is secure. You’re not going anywhere.”
Without waiting for her to respond, I quickly bind the two of us together, with Kylie tucked safely at my side.
Her arms and legs come around me like a koala’s, and she buries her face into my shirt.
If the situation were different, I’d take more time to reassure her.
But right now, my focus needs to be on rescuing Em.
Em, who’s miraculously made it into the backseat without causing the car to move again.
Still. She’s not close enough. Not yet.
“You can do it,” I tell her. “You’ve got it, Em. You’re almost there.”
“I’m trying,” she replies. Her voice wobbles a little. “I don’t want to fall.”
“I know. Just a little further.”
It feels like an eternity, waiting for Emily to reach me.
I desperately want to lunge forward to snatch her out of the car. Screw caution. Just get her the fuck out of there. But logic stops me. It reminds me that such a move could be deadly, not just for Emily, but for all three of us.
So I wait. And wait.
Until finally—
Her hand is inches from mine.
I stretch forward, willing the distance to close.
Almost there.
Almost.
And then I have her.
As soon as my hand is wrapped around hers, I lift her out of the car and clasp her one-armed to my chest. She’s trembling all over, and her breath comes in quick bursts against my neck.
“Derek,” she whispers. Her voice is scratchy from crying. “You came.”
Emotion surges, so overwhelming I can’t speak for a second. Instead, I just press my lips to the top of her head, comforting myself by the silken feel of her hair and its soft, vanilla scent. Then I reply roughly, “I’ll always come for you, Em.”
Then I grab hold of the rope with the hand not holding on to her, and using my legs and arm, I start pulling the three of us up.
It’s not an easy feat, lifting the weight of two adults and a child while dangling from a rope.
But all the hours at the gym, coupled with sheer determination, are enough to make it work.
I make it work. Because Emily’s done enough.
Hands are waiting for us as soon as we clear the edge of the bridge, hauling the three of us up and over. My legs want to collapse from the sheer relief of it; of having Em back with me after nearly losing her.
One of the officers unties the rope around my waist and pulls Kylie aside. “My dad,” she sobs. “He’s still in there. He’s not a bad person. He’s just sick. And he needs help.”
Back on solid ground, I have both arms free to hug Emily close to me. She’s still shaking and crying softly. But she lifts her face from my neck to look at the officer helping Kylie. “Her dad took us,” she explains quietly. “But he didn’t hurt her. Just… if you can get him out…”
“We’ll get your dad out,” the officer assures Kylie. “There’s a guy heading down right now. He’ll get him.” He pats her shoulder. “How about we get you checked out, okay? There’s an ambulance right over there.”
“Can we call my mom?” Kylie asks. “She must be so worried. I was supposed to call her after the 5K. I promised I would. And Coach Carol. She’s going to be so mad. I wasn’t supposed to go anywhere without telling her.”
“Your mom’s already on the way,” the officer replies. “I’m sure she’ll be here any minute.”
As he starts to lead Kylie away, she tugs away and turns back to Emily. Chin wobbling, she says, “Thank you. For trying to stop my dad. And staying with me. And—” She looks at me. “For bringing your hero here to rescue us.”
Emily meets Kylie’s gaze and gives her a small smile. “Of course, honey. I’m just glad you’re okay.”
Then, as we watch Kylie head off with the officer, Em looks back at me. Tears swim in her eyes. “You really are a hero,” she says. “And I’m so proud of you.”