Page 86 of Love Bound

No.

It can’t be.

Claire.

Nic's suit jacket flaps in the tight wind and in one fluid movement I reach over, grabbing the pistol from his shoulder holster as Bryce raises his own weapon. The boat suddenly slaps against a wave and lifts.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Bryce fires and misses, just as Miller lets Claire go and she slips under the waves.

With both hands on the handle, I site him, I site that fucker, wait for the next rise, compute the trajectory with my gut, lower my aim, and fire.

He goes over, right after her.

Within five long seconds, Nic navigates within a dozen feet of where they went under. I slam the revolver on the bench seat and dive into the water, launching almost vertically to reclaim the space between us.

As the icy water hits, I see her under me—floating, eyes open, no bubbles trailing—and then her arm flinches. I grab her, hauling her up with one arm.

When I break the surface, there's another splash and Bryce is right next to me. I catch her from behind and squeeze hard, in a kind of Heimlich move, and water shoots from her mouth.

I hear Nic on the radio, calling for assistance.

She's limp, lifeless, her eyes glassy.

"Claire, no. No, no, no, no, no," I say as Bryce breaks the plastic on the BVM and hands it to me.

Nic's in the water now. He and Bryce lock arms and make a human gurney for her. I put my head to her chest and can’t hear a thing. It’s too noisy.

I clamp the BVM to her face and pump hard.

Her chest rises—a good sign.

I count to five. Squeeze again.

And again.

Over and over.

I see her small pale face under the mask, her blonde hair plastered to her head, her arms floating uselessly. A sob so deep inside me starts welling. If I lose her I will die. I know I will die.

She is not Allison. But Allison will never be Claire. I love Claire with everything I am and everything I will be.

Water sirens wail in the background somewhere, their lonely song finding us standing in the water. It's a low-slung coast guard response boat and medics are jumping out. Nic shouts to them and points to Miller's body floating off to the side somewhere.

I am seeing all this, yet not. The periphery is real and necessary but all that’s important is her chest rising and falling, over and over.

Come on, Claire. Please.

Please. Fight this.

Tears sting my eyes and my legs are numb from the cold. Her skin is turning blue. We have to get her out of the water.

Men and women are shouting at me and Bryce yells too, to let go, so they can get her on a floating gurney and then to the coast guard vessel.

"I'm coming with!" I shout. At least I think it’s a shout. My heart is pounding so hard I think it's going to bust right through my ribs.

Please.