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Snow was unresponsive as he returned her to the tiles. He hadn’t had his CPR training in years but had been certified. He wracked his brains, trying to remember the steps.
“Call 911,” he ordered to the desperate videographer. “And get footage of this now.”
Hector lifted his camera. A staff member entered, carrying fresh towels, but at the sight of Snow and the urgency of Hunter’s command, she dropped the towels and pulled out her phone, talking with the 911 operator. Hunter lifted Snow’s chin. He turned her onto her side. If she’d taken in water, then it needed to get out.
Luckily, that was enough. Snow’s windpipe gurgled, and then water gushed from her mouth with gasps and coughs. She rasped several times, and Hunter smoothed her damp hair away from her face.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Hunter,” she said with a weak breath. Her reaction—her voice calling his name, the thought of what would have happened if he hadn’t been there—gripped him.
“What happened?” he asked in desperation.
She coughed a few more times. “I—thought—it was one of the contestants.”
“You thought who was? What happened?”
“Pushed me. I f—followed a trail of flower petals and someone p—pushed me in.”
“Knowing you can’t swim,” he said with striking realization. What was going on? Who was this person and why were they trying to hurt Snow?
She attempted to sit up, but her body sagged. Hunter hurried to catch her and hold her against him rather than let her collide with the tiles. They were both equally saturated. Water dripped down his chin and made his shirt cling to his chest. He smoothed her hair away from her face again, struck by her trembling form.
One thing he knew—this had happened as a response to Snow’s vehemence during her interview. “We never should have said anything. You issued them a challenge, and they took it.”
She began to cry. He placed a hand on her shoulder, and she gave in to the gesture, throwing her arms around him. He held her as tenderly as he could, keeping her close, wanting her to feel safe.
“I’m—I’m—”
“Shh,” he soothed, stroking her spine and cradling her. The center of his heart cracked open, overflowing with pity, tenderness, and determination to protect her. Snow was no fragile creature, but she was human. And he couldn’t stop thanking God that he’d been able to find her when he had.
He would have to step it up from here on out. He would have to keep tabs on her as much as possible. That meant Kassie needed to stay at his parents’ longer. Hunter made a mental note to contact his parents and let them know watching after Snow might be more extensive than he’d initially planned.
Before long, medics burst through the door and gave Snow a good looking-over. The police showed up as well, and Hunter explained what he knew of the situation. Eloise appeared, asking what was going on.
Rather than showing any kind of sympathy for Snow’s plight, Eloise acted haughty and, if anything, offended by it all.
“This is what she gets for being so confrontational about it,” Eloise said, folding her arms, her mouth pinching in distaste.
Really? That was Eloise’s initial reaction to attempted murder?
Snow clung tighter to him, and Hunter’s defenses flared. “Don’t you dare imply that Snow did this to herself,” he said.
Eloise sniffed but didn’t change her stance. “She did. She should have kept her mouth shut.”
“You might need to take your own advice,” Hunter said with purpose. It was good that he was holding Snow. After the medics were done and Snow gave her testimony to the police, she’d gone right back into his arms—and he hadn’t minded one bit.
Eloise glowered at him. Her penciled brows hung low over her eyes.
“Snow never asked to be attacked,” Hunter said. “We need to cancel the show.”
“Don’t cancel anything,” Snow said weakly, speaking for the first time since Eloise had entered the scene. She pushed herself away from Hunter and attempted to sit on her own. Reluctantly, he let her. The sight of her injected steel into his resolve all over again. Sopping wet, she was still beautiful. And he could never allow anything like this to happen again.
“I think we’re done listening to your opinion,” Eloise said with confrontation in both her gaze and her tone.
Hunter pushed himself to his feet. He needed more than his wits about him for this conversation. He needed a leg to stand on, so to speak, and sitting on the wet tiles near the swimming pool wasn’t doing it.
Snow copied him, climbing to her feet as well and moving as far from the pool as she could. She hugged her arms around her and meandered to the door. Hunter followed her out into the sedate lobby.
