“Help!” the mother’s voice screamed from downstream, thin and panicked. She was being swept away, too.
God, this river was tearing us apart.
I shifted the boy higher, hooking his arms around my neck. One-handed, I hauled us along the trunk toward a thicker branch angled above the current. My legs kicked, fighting the pull, every inch forward a war.
At last, I slammed my forearm over the branch, dragging both of us half out of the water. The boy coughed hard, vomiting up river water before burying his face against my neck, sobbing weakly.
“You’re okay,” I whispered, my breath coming in short, gasping breaths. My throat burned, my chest heaved, but relief crashed through me so hard it almost broke me. “You’re safe. I’ve got you.”
The river kept raging below, uncaring. Boone was still missing. The mother was still fighting somewhere in the dark. Hopefully the man made it out of the water somewhere.
But the boy in my arms was alive.
And I’d die before I let him go.
32
Raine
The boy clung to me like a lifeline, his small body trembling with every cough. My arm burned where glass had sliced deep, but I shoved the pain down. There wasn’t time for it.
“Stay here,” I whispered, tucking him against the crook of the tree branch, as high as I dared. “Hold tight. Don’t let go. I’ll be right back.”
His watery eyes widened, terrified. “Don’t leave me.”
The words gutted me. “I’m not leaving. I’m saving your mom.” I brushed wet hair from his face with trembling fingers. “You’ve got to be brave for me, okay?”
He nodded once, shaky but strong.
I turned back to the river, scanning the churning dark. “Boone!” I screamed. “Where are you?”
No answer.
But farther downstream, a flash of pale cloth. The mother’s arm flailed weakly above the water before she disappeared again.
“Damn it.”
I dove.
The current slammed me under, spinning me end over end. My lungs burned, my body screaming in protest, but I forced my legs to kick, my arms to pull. The water was a monster trying to swallow me whole, but I wasn’t leaving her to it.
My hand caught fabric. I grabbed hard, hauling her up, breaking the surface with a gasp. She coughed, sputtered, eyes wide with panic.
“I’ve got you!” I shouted, looping an arm around her chest, dragging her toward the same tree. The current fought me, pulling us sideways, but rage burned hotter than fear. I would not lose her. Both of us kicked hard, trying to get back to the child.
The boy’s cry carried faintly over the storm. His mother heard it and thrashed harder, clawing toward him.
Together we reached the trunk. I shoved her up, muscles screaming as I boosted her until she could grab her son. She wrapped him in her arms, sobbing, whispering his name over and over.
Relief cut through me sharp and fast. But it didn’t last.
Because Boone was still gone.
I clung to the branch, chest heaving, throat raw from screaming. “Boone!”
The river answered with silence.
33
