AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Breathe,” he says. I do. I don’t know how long but all I know is I can’t stop.
“I can’t lose you. I can’t,” I tell her when he starts compressions again, her lips too cold, too blue. “Don’t let her die,” I tell Father Michael who is oblivious to all but her. But his count. His work. “Please, God, don’t let her die.”
And then a miracle occurs.
I watch her face, her beautiful face, bleached white.
Sunlight beams down on her, and when Father Michael next presses into her chest, when I hear the sick cracking sound of ribs as he forces her heart to beat, she coughs.
We both stop and look at her face and watch her turn her head and throw up water.
“Madelena! Jesus. Madelena.” I cradle her head, pull it onto my lap, turning her onto her side as she vomits up more water mixed with sand. She gasps for breaths between coughs, and it’s the sweetest sound. God. It’s the sweetest fucking sound. Because she’s alive. She’s alive.
“Santos?” she says weakly as I lift her, hug her to me, pushing wet hair from her face to kiss her forehead, her cheeks, her mouth, her hands. But then I watch the horror come over her as her gaze moves over my shoulder.
I stiffen.
“Santos,” Father Michael says, following Madelena’s line of vision.
I stand, lift her in my arms and once Father Michael is on his feet, I hand her over to him.
“Get her inside. Get her warm.”
“Santos,” he starts, taking her from me because he has no choice. “Don’t do anything rash.”
Rash. There will be nothing rash in what I will do.
“Get her inside. Now.”
I glance once more to my drowned Madelena before turning my back on them to face my brother.
36
SANTOS
“You would contaminate this place,” I say.
“That’s a little dramatic, don’t you think?” Caius asks, not quite steady on his feet.
“It was you. It was you all along.”
I pick up my pistol from the sand, tuck it into the waistband of my pants and stalk toward my brother. He stands his ground. He looks as drowned as Madelena. I’m sure I look much the same.
“I had no choice, when it came down to it,” he says, a pathetic defense. I swing at him, catch him in the jaw. He spins, stumbles, rights himself. “It was her or you. And I wasn’t going to lose you. Not again.”
I hit him again, on the other side of his face this time. I’m right-handed, but my left-hook is just as powerful as my right. Shoutout to the Commander’s training.
“You had a choice. You always have a fucking choice.” I punch him again. Blood splatters the sand wall at his back.
“Not really, no.” He touches his face, fingers coming away red.
“What the fuck do you mean you won’t lose me again?” I ask. “You never lost me, you asshole.” I repeat the right-hook. This time, he falls on his ass and I take hold of his shirt to get him back up because we’re not done yet. We’re only just getting started. “You know what, it doesn’t matter. Just tell me one thing. Just one fucking thing. Why Alexia? What did she do to you to deserve what you did?”
“Oh.” He shakes his head. “Alexia wasn’t me.”
I stop, not expecting that. But then I shake my head. “You’re lying.” I draw my arm back and ram it into his gut.
He grunts, doubles over. “I’m not, brother,” he manages after a minute, spitting blood when he straightens to face me again. He’s not fighting me. He’s taking the beating. It’s not like him.
