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Under me, Nicolette sucked in a sharp intake.
My eyes flashed open. “Nic—”
Her chest heaved as she began to cough, sludgy water gurgling from her lips.
“Jesus!” Gripping her shoulder, I rolled her onto her side, where she vomited half the damn river. She looked so weak and frail, panting for oxygen with her hair and clothing soaked, but she was alive. Gloriously, wonderfully alive.
I could only gape as she slowly pushed herself upright with wobbling weak arms and blinked around the scraggly excuse for a riverbank.
“What just happened?”
Her voice was hoarse. After the Coral Reef Killer had gouged out her windpipe and voice box, however, I was shocked she could speak at all.
“You…” I didn’t know how to tell her. So I didn’t. I didn’t want to scare her as much as it had scared me. “You fell in the water. Off the ferry.”
She veered her attention to me and frowned before gasping. Her hand went immediately to her throat. “The—that fish,” she said.
I nodded, confirming. “The river monster.”
“It stabbed me.” She kept checking her skin for a wound. “Right in the base of the neck. It hurt so bad. I swore I was dying.” When she found her flesh clear and undamaged, she tried to glance down at herself, and found the front of her dress matted with blood.
“It—it might’ve nicked you a little,” I said, my voice beginning to wobble. She’d know better once she caught a reflection of her face and saw that her mark had turned red. The tattoo turning from black to red must mean a person had died and was brought back. But she wouldn’t be able to see that for herself out here in the woods, so I bit my lip and kept the detail quiet.
Blinking at me slowly, Nicolette’s expression broke into a gleaming smile. “You kissed me better,” she guessed.
I couldn’t answer. I couldn’t handle the gratitude and love in her eyes, as if I’d saved her or something. This was all my damn fault to begin with.
“I should’ve made you take the jewelry off,” I started, growing unstable, “not just had you cover it up. Oh God. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
Losing it completely, I shook my head. Tears flooded my cheeks. Trembles seized my torso. And Nicolette saw it all. I couldn’t even turn away; I crumbled right in front of her.
“I’m sorry,” I wept, trying to pull myself together and failing, only whimpering more than I would’ve in the first place if I hadn’t tried to keep it all in. “I’m so damn sorry.”
“Oh, darling,” Nicolette cooed, opening her arms to me. “Don’t be sorry. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
But I had.
I knew I didn’t deserve her tenderness, yet I needed it.
I collapsed gratefully into her arms, letting her hug me as I buried my face in her hair and clutched her back.
“You were hurt because of me.”
Because I’d put her at risk. Every moment with me put her at risk.
“But I’m okay now,” she assured, stroking my hair. “Everything’s fine, Farrow. Don’t fret.”
I gathered her into my lap and rocked us back and forth, refusing to let up on my desperate, intense grip. “I almost lost you.”
I had lost her.
Another shudder wracked me.
She’d been gone, her life force drained.
I squeezed my eyes shut and petted her hair uncontrollably, still unable to believe she’d come back.
Thank you, I silently told whoever I needed to thank for granting me this reprieve. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
