Chapter 37 #3
My body reacted before I could stop it: legs jerking, hands scrambling for purchase. The canoe rocked, overcorrected, and pitched me over the edge.
For a split second, I saw Dante’s face—wide-eyed, mouth open like he was about to warn me—and then there was only the shock of water, upheaval, and the sky vanishing above.
The cold hit me so hard my whole body convulsed. Water forced its way into my nose, my mouth. I kicked out, but my jeans and sweater tangled around my legs, anchoring me.
I felt the bottom of the canoe scrape my shoulder as I went under, thrashing, the world gone green-black and silent.
It was only a few seconds, but in that time I was sure I was going to die. The panic that had been a low static in my chest erupted, full force, into white noise.
I couldn’t tell which way was up, and the more I fought, the more the water seemed to pull at me. My lungs burned. My limbs went weak.
Strong arms closed around me. My face broke the surface, retching lake water and cold air in equal measure. Dante hauled me half into the canoe, his hands locked under my armpits, his shout thin and desperate.
For a moment, I hung suspended there, my head flung back, hair streaming brine and snot, the sky bleaching out everything but the sound of my own gasping.
I vomited once, then again, water and shame in equal parts.
Dante gripped my shoulders, his words a jumble of “You’re okay, you’re okay, you’re okay,” but I heard nothing past the drumbeat in my skull.
I clawed at the side of the canoe, nails raking the fiberglass, trying to hoist myself up, but my arms felt boneless, useless.
He wrangled me over the edge, collapsing both of us in a heap that nearly upended the boat for good. I laid on my back, shuddering, the world spinning too fast to focus.
Above me, Dante’s face was a mask of panic and relief, his mouth moving without making sense.
“Stay with me,” Dante said, slapping my cheek lightly. “You’re okay.”
I nodded, though my vision blurred in and out.
We drifted toward the dock in a limp spiral, water pooling around my hips and freezing me to the bone. Dante kept one steady arm hooked around my ribcage, all business now, the set of his jaw focused and scared.
I stared at the sky—blue and blank and infinite—and tried not to think about how close I’d come to slipping back under.
The canoe ground up against the dock, a scraping, helpless sound. I didn’t move. I couldn’t. Dante heaved himself out first, feet squelching in the cold sand, then turned and pulled me upright.
My arms and legs moved like someone else’s, boneless and shaking. Together, we half rolled, half crawled onto the splintered planks, me gasping and retching and him saying my name.
Suddenly, Caiden was there. I don’t know when he appeared, but he knelt in front of me, his eyes so wide the whites shone, his hands trembling as he tried to peel Dante’s arm from my shoulder.
“Get the fuck off her,” Caiden snapped, shoving Dante back with a force that surprised all of us.
Dante staggered. “I was helping her, she fell in—”
“She doesn’t need your help!” Caiden’s voice came out raw, strangled, like he’d torn a strip of himself to say it. He snatched my hands in his and pressed them to his chest, as if trying to restart my heart through sheer will.
His skin was fever-hot, every muscle rigid and trembling. “Amelia, I told you not to fucking do that.”
Dante, catching his balance, went defensive. “I had her. It was fine, then she freaked, man! I pulled her out—”
“Yeah, you pulled her out after you almost killed her!” Caiden yelled, his panicked voice slicing the air.
He dropped to his knees beside me, yanking off his hoodie and wrapping it around my shoulders, rough but careful, like he was afraid I’d shatter if he was too gentle.
“Jesus, Amelia, what were you thinking?”
I couldn’t answer. I was shivering too hard, my jaw locked, and my tongue numb. Instead, I let him pull me into his dry chest.
He held me so tightly I could feel his own pulse, a frantic drum, matching the panic still ringing in my veins.
Dante hovered, arms out, uncertain and seething. “She’s going to go into shock, you idiot. We need to get her inside. She needs dry clothes. Amelia, can you hear me?”
I weakly lifted my head. Caiden’s hand locked around the back of my skull, gentle but immovable. I wanted to say ‘thank you,’ but my teeth were clacking and the words just tangled up in my throat.
He muttered, “You’re okay, I got you, I’m not letting go.” I believed him. I hated myself for believing, but I did.
“Come on,” Dante said, voice flat. “Get her up. She can’t sit out here all day, or she’ll seize up.”
Caiden ignored him for a second longer, heat radiating off his skin like anger. When he finally did stand, he picked me up as if I weighed nothing, and stomped past Dante, who trailed behind, muttering curses under his breath.
Inside the cabin, Caiden set me on the old plaid couch, wrapping a wool blanket around my shoulders. He pushed my hair out of my eyes.
I saw Dante behind him, hovering near the kitchen, his jaw working side to side, hands pressed white-knuckled to the counter.
“Do you want tea?” Dante asked, his voice tight, already putting a kettle on the stove. “Blanket’s not enough, you need something hot.”
“She doesn’t want tea, she just needs to lie down,” Caiden shot back, louder than the small space required. He pulled my knees up and tucked the blanket in around my feet, then crouched in front of the couch so our faces were level. “You good? You breathing regular?”
I nodded, but the shiver wouldn’t stop. There was a rawness building at the back of my throat, the tears close, but I clenched my jaw and willed them in place. “I’m okay. It just… surprised me. I’m sorry. If I had stayed calm, I would’ve been okay.”
“Nothing to be sorry about,” Dante said, coming over with a mug already steaming. “You don’t have to drink it, just hold it. Warm your hands.”
Caiden glared at the mug as if it were some kind of insult. I watched the way his hands hovered, torn between snatching it away and letting Dante do what he wanted.
Finally, he pulled back and let Dante kneel next to me, their arms nearly touching as they both hovered at my sides.
I hated the way it made me feel, like a doll being fought over by two kids who wanted to prove who cared most.
But I also loved it, a little. The attention, the shared panic, the fact that for once I was being cared for, and I felt as if I mattered.
“Amelia, you’re freezing. You need to change,” Dante said, shooting a look at Caiden that was pure challenge.
“Fine,” Caiden snarled, like a wolf defending a carcass. “She’ll change. We don’t need a fucking doctor’s note.”
He peeled the blanket back and helped me up, his hands under my arms, far gentler than his words. My legs wobbled, and I sagged against him, the sodden denim of my jeans clinging to his bare forearms. He led me to the hallway and pointed at the bathroom. “You go. I’ll find you something dry.”
When I closed the door, I could hear them through the paper-thin wall, voices muffled but urgent.
“What’s your problem, man?” Dante hissed.
“My problem is you showing up and acting like you know what’s best,” Caiden spat back.
“Really, Caiden? If you’ve forgotten, I was the one who was there for her all those years ago. You were the one who terrified her on a daily basis. If there’s anybody she trusts, it would be me.”
Caiden made a defensive noise. “Things have changed. I don’t treat her like that anymore. She does trust me.”
I imagined Dante shaking his head the way he does. “Maybe you’re not so different, man. Sure, I’ve seen that you act nicer towards her, but there’s still that rage hidden beneath your softness. I just hope that dormant anger doesn’t explode onto her.”
I didn’t bother listening to the rest of the conversation. I tore my clothes off and turned on the shower water, twisting the knob to the hottest setting.
It was a time machine, the way the water burned red into my skin, the way I sat on the tile with my knees pulled to my chest, steam ghosting off my arms.
I let it scald the cold from my bones. The heat pulled the fear out of my skin, each droplet sliding down my body like a shedding.
I scrubbed at my arms, at my chest, at the hollow behind my knees until I was pink and raw, until the shivering stilled and my breath came steady again.
The sounds of the boys bickering outside shrank to a dull, wet buzz. I wanted to stay in here forever, but eventually the water went lukewarm, and I had to face the world again.
A soft knock, too careful to be Caiden’s, tapped the door. “Amelia? I left some dry clothes for you outside the door.”
Dante’s voice, gentle, unforced. I clutched the towel around me and opened the door a crack.
On the floor: black leggings pulled from my luggage, a huge blue hoodie, and thick wool socks. Probably his. I pulled them on, the sleeves flopping past my hands. It was a comfort, more than I’d admit aloud.
I stepped back into the hallway, hair dripping down my neck, and found both of them waiting. Caiden on the couch. Dante in the kitchen, retying the laces of his boots with measured precision. Neither looked at me directly at first.
I cleared my throat, not sure who I was apologizing to. “Sorry I ruined the canoe trip.”
Dante looked up, all easy warmth. “You didn’t ruin anything. I should’ve known better than to take us that far out.”
I heard Caiden mumble something underneath his breath, but I didn’t strain to hear what he said. I had an idea what he was mumbling about.
“I guess I still feel triggered when it comes to that. I thought I could do it, but every little noise and splash sent my nerves into overdrive.” The vulnerability in my voice tainted my tongue, I wished I didn’t sound so pathetic.
Dante’s face softened. “Amelia. It’s okay. No need to explain yourself. You’re safe and that’s what matters.”