18. Chapter 18
Lorenz
“Where are you?” Beau asked. It was his professional voice. Not his off-duty voice.
“On our way home. Still on the bridge.”
Beau sighed in relief. “I’m on my way, but it’ll take me longer to get there. There’s been an accident in the pond up above Floria. Two boys were playing, one of them fell through the ice.”
Shit.
There should have been a warning not to get anywhere near the thinning ice.
“I’m on my way,” Lorenz said. “I’ll let you know when I’m in place.”
He hung up the call, not needing to say anything to Charlie.
“I’ll come with you,” she said. “I can help.”
Lorenz knew better than to argue. He recognized when Charlie had made up her mind about something. He gave a single, sharp nod. From the trunk, he took out a climbing rope and his first-aid kit. It was all he had.
“Careful with the rocks,” he said.
He wished he had a flashlight with him, and that he was wearing better shoes, but he’d dressed for dinner, not for a night-time rescue.
“I know where the pond is,” Charlie panted, jogging behind him. “Run ahead. I’ll follow.”
Lorenz nodded and sped up. A few minutes later, the small body of water appeared behind the trees. At first, he couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary.
A mistake.
A prank.
It happened, once in a while. Here, it was the best possible news.
Then he saw movement at the far end of the pond. There was a small, dark figure on the ice, crouched low on his knees, one arm stretched forward. In his other hand, he clutched a cell phone. Thank goodness he’d had the sense to make the emergency call.
“Aidez-moi ! Il est tombé !”
Help me! He fell!
Lorenz checked behind him to find Charlie there. She’d kept up with him.
“We’re here to help. Crawl away from the hole,” Lorenz called out, in French. The last thing he wanted was for this boy to end up in the water as well. “That’s right. On your belly, if you can. Don’t stand up.”
“Stay here, Charlie,” Lorenz said, stepping onto the ice, which crackled dangerously.
“I’m not staying here,” Charlie cut in. “I’m a lot lighter. Let me go get him.”
Lorenz shook his head. “No way.”
No fucking way.
The small boy reached the edge of the pond, still on his hands and knees, the ice creaking ominously beneath even his light weight. Lorenz pulled him quickly to safety, holding him by the collar of his jacket. “Mon frère,” the boy hiccuped.
Eager to keep him away from the ice, Lorenz sent him to the edge of the path to keep an eye out for the rest of the PGHM team.
He focused his eyes on the small hands clawing at the edge of the ice.
He stepped forward. One step, and nothing happened. Then, a second step. At the third step, a loud crack split the surface under his boot.
He stilled.
Too heavy.
“Let me go, Lorenz,” Charlie said, behind him.
“That’s not happening, Charlie. Stay where you are. Stay with the other boy.”
Shit.
There was no way the ice was going to hold him, but he couldn’t risk Charlie’s safety.
He scanned the shoreline desperately. At the edge of the pond, two thick tree stumps caught his eye. If he could rig an anchor around one of them—
Movement on the ice caught his attention. He spun.
Charlie was already on the ice. He watched, his heart in his throat, as she lowered herself onto her stomach, spreading her weight on the icy surface.
“Charlie!” His voice came out sharper than he’d intended.
She looked back only briefly, fear and determination warring in her eyes.
“I’m lighter.”
Then she moved.
Lorenz swore under his breath. Every instinct demanded that he drag her back to shore.
He forced himself to focus.
“On your stomach. Move slowly,” he cautioned. “And you stop the second I tell you.”
Inch by inch, she gained on the ice. In response, the ice creaked in protest, a low groan that set Lorenz’s teeth on edge.
Charlie
Never in her life had she felt this afraid.
This wasn’t who she was. She didn’t take risks. She didn’t—
Get a grip.
A part of her wished she hadn’t insisted on going on the ice. Lorenz knew what he was doing. She didn’t.
But he was heavier. There was no way he would have made it this far. And if he went under, there was no way she could help him—or the boy.
This is the only way.
Her legs felt like blocks of ice inside her jeans, but it wasn’t the cold that made her shake. It was pure, unadulterated fear.
She stretched her arms forward and kept moving, because if she stopped now, she wouldn’t be able to convince herself to move again.
She moved a knee up against her hip, sliding forward. The surface beneath her creaked.
Don’t think about it.
The boy.
Think about the boy.
She could see him clearly now. Dark hair plastered to his pale forehead, looking impossibly small. As she watched, one of his hands slipped, and most of his body disappeared inside the black, jagged hole.
“Don’t let go. I’m almost there,” she said, speaking in English, because every bit of French had fled her mind.
She did the only thing she could—she kept crawling forward, on her belly.
“You’re doing great, Charlie,” Lorenz said from somewhere behind her.
The boy whimpered. She was close—so close that she could see his teeth chattering.
“I’m almost there. Look at me ... regarde-moi,” she begged. Finally, a word in French.
The boy’s eyes lifted to hers.
Good.
His fingers scraped against the ice.
“Don’t try to climb out,” she said, the words coming out in English again. Hopefully, he understood. “Just hold on.”
His fingers slipped.
Charlie’s heart slammed against her ribs. He was going to go under any second. And if he did, what would she do? Did she have it in her to dive in after him? Into that dark hole …
She kept crawling.
“Charlie,” Lorenz said, his voice louder now, or so it seemed to her. “Stop there.”
She froze, but he was too far away; he couldn’t see what she could—that the boy was losing his grip. That he was going to go under.
“I can reach him,” she whispered.
The boy was less than an arms-length away. But here the ice here looked thinner—duller, veined with pale cracks. Charlie stretched out her arm. So close.
Icy water seeped up, soaking her sleeves, biting into her skin.
She gritted her teeth and stretched further. The tip of her fingers finally brushed the boy’s skin.
Just a little more.
She slid forward. The ice creaked—was that sound louder?
Her hand wrapped around the boy’s shockingly cold wrist.
“I’ve got you,” she said through clenched teeth. “I’m not letting go.”
No matter what, she would not let go.
She pulled.
The ice cracked.
“Charlie …” Lorenz warned.
Charlie didn’t stop pulling. The boy’s upper body came out of the water, his weight dragging at her arms, much heavier than she’d expected. She gritted her teeth and kept going.
Exhilaration filled her. Almost there. For a second, she was sure they were going to make it.
Then the ice dipped.
There was no crack this time—no warning—just a sickening give beneath her chest.
No.
“Charlie!” Lorenz yelled.
Charlie felt herself slide inexorably forward. The boy screamed as his body plunged back into the water.
“I’m not letting go,” she cried.
The cold swallowed her, crushing the air from her lungs, the shock brutal.
“I’m here, Charlie,” a voice said from behind. Lorenz. He was on his belly, inching towards them.
“How—“
“Take the rope,” he said, throwing something toward her. It landed on the ice beside her, close enough that she could reach it—if only she had three arms.
“I can’t. I can’t let go,” she said. The boy’s head was still out of the water, but lolling forward. He was in no shape to hold on to anything at this point. If she let go of him now, he’d simply go under.
“Let go with one hand, Charlie. I need you to grab the rope and slip it under your arms.”
“I can’t.”
“You can,” he insisted, steady, unyielding. “Listen to me, we do this together.”
Together.
She eyed the rope. It wasn’t far away. But the boy was so heavy … and her fingers had long gone numb. Before she could second-guess herself, she gripped the boy’s hands tightly in her left hand and reached out with her right.
Her frozen fingers closed around the rope.
“Slip it under your arms,” Lorenz said.
“Shouldn’t I wrap it around the boy?” Charlie asked.
“We don’t have time, Charlie. You hold on to him. I will pull you both in. I promise.”
She slipped the loop over her head and pulled one arm through. Then the second arm, in what felt like a superhuman effort. She tugged until the rope settled beneath her armpits, snug across her back.
The ice cracked again, and then she was fully immersed in the water.
The shock of it squeezed her lungs. She’d thought it was cold outside, but that was nothing compared to this.
She held on to the boy, then looked down at her wrist—she couldn’t feel the rope anymore. Had she lost it? No, it was there.
“Hold on to him!” Lorenz cried.
She held. Her body was jerked backward—hard. Water rushed past, then air, and then she was back on the crackling ice.
Lorenz’s muscles strained, his neck taut with the effort. Behind him, someone’s muffled voice. It took Charlie a moment to understand somebody else must be pulling on Lorenz’s legs.
In a matter of seconds, she and the boy were clear of the water. Lorenz kept pulling them backward until they were at the edge of the pond.
Safe.
The wind hit her then. It cut straight through the wet fabric clinging to her body, a different type of cold, but no less shocking than the water had been. No less painful.
Her body seized.
Charlie whimpered.
“Hold on, honey. Hold on.”
“Take the boy,” she begged.
“I’ve got him,” another voice answered.
Charlie rolled to her side, her body instinctively curling up into a ball, trying to conserve heat, to disappear into itself.
“Here,” Lorenz said. Something soft and warm wrapped around her shoulders. Lorenz rubbed her shoulders, her back, her belly, forcing heat back into her skin.
“Shouldn’t you be taking my clothes off? And yours too?” she asked. She’d read that, somewhere. In a novel, probably.
Lorenz let out a strained laugh. “Good. You’re still cracking jokes.” Then, quieter, closer, “Hold on to me, okay?”
She tried. Her frozen arms wrapped around his neck. He lifted her in one smooth, easy move.
Charlie hummed at the sudden warmth, pressing her body into his heat.
“You’re so much better than the blanket,” she said, burrowing closer against his chest.
“Stay with me, Charlie,” he whispered into her ear.
“Your heart’s beating fast,” she answered sleepily.
“You scared the life out of me,” he replied. “You have to stay awake, Charlie.”
“I’m awake. How is he?”
“The boy’s going to be okay,” Ry said. Charlie sighed in relief.
“That’s thanks to you, Charlie,” somebody else said.
Charlie raised her head. “It was a team effort.”
Lorenz just held her closer.
“The ambulance is taking him and his brother to the hospital.”
“I want Charlie to go, too,” Lorenz said immediately.
“Go where?” She was pretty sure she didn’t need a hospital.
“You wanted to get on that ice, and you got on that ice. But this is non-negotiable, honey. You’re getting checked out.”
“I wouldn’t fight him on this, if I were you,” Ry said.
Charlie sighed, exasperated, then shivered. “Fine. But I’m not going in an ambulance,” she said.
Lorenz opened his mouth, as if to argue, but Ry interceded. “I can drive you both.”
Minutes later, she was in the back of the car, wrapped in blankets, her body still trembling in waves she couldn’t control.
Through the window, she watched Lorenz moving around, speaking to someone. His shirt, soaked, clung to his hard frame, outlining the muscles in his shoulders, his arms. He didn’t seem to notice the cold.
I’ve got you.
Charlie felt a warm tingle. She’d never doubted he’d get her out. No matter what.