The fourth time, I changed the angle and she finally rolled.Thank God.
“Nick! Behind you!”
Mads?
I spun toward the shore, my heart bursting in my chest.
But instead of Mads, I found Belinda’s gun pointed at my face.
“Oh no, you fucking don’t.” Mads rose up out of the water at Belinda’s side like some fucking sea monster and slammed his fist into her face.
Belinda’s head jerked back, blood spraying in an arc through the grey mist.
Before she could recover, Mads hit her again.
The gun fell into the lake and she went under.
Mads hauled her up by her hair and she let out a shrill scream. But she still wasn’t done. She clawed at Mads’ body, her nails raking red lines down his neck and across his face as she tried to free herself.
With my hands cuffed, all I could do to help was scissor Belinda’s legs between my own as Mads slammed his elbow into her temple. She grunted and went limp in his arms.
“Thank Christ,” Mads groaned in relief.
When I spun to check on Chloe, I froze at the sight of a large German shepherd circling my mother. A man, presumably the dog’s handler, blew a couple of breaths into Chloe’s lungs then began towing her toward a paramedic waiting anxiously on the shore.
Detective Wright swam up next to Mads’ shoulder and reached for Belinda. “I’ll take care of her,” he said grimly. “You two get yourselves safe.”
“Fine with me.” Mads happily handed the woman over.
“Oh, and you might need this.” Wright held a handcuff key out for Mads to take, then headed for shore towing Belinda beside him. She must have regained consciousness because Wright warned her to “Shut the fuck up or I’ll forget my manners.”
Mads swam closer, helping to support my weight while running his hands quickly over my body, checking for injuries. His gaze fixed on mine, those bright green eyes flashing dangerously. “What the hell did you think you were doing?” he growled. “Goddammit, Nick.” I winced as he squeezed my bad shoulder and his worried gaze jerked to mine. “What’s wrong? Are you shot? Stabbed? Hit with a blunt instrument? What is it this time?”
Deciding it was best to ignore the sarcasm in his tone, I simply said, “I’m fine. Just a torn shoulder. But it would be great to lose these cuffs.”
He shot me a less than sympathetic look. “Yeah? Well, don’t hold your breath.” He waved a hand in the air, indicating the quarry lake. “I suppose you’re going to tell me that this is you being careful?”
Shit. “Well, I?—”
“Stop.” He made a slashing motion across his throat. “I don’t want to hear your excuses. Just get yourself back on dry land, you stupid, stupid man.”
“The cuffs? You’ve got the key,” I reminded him, trying to work the sympathy angle, which went about as well as expected.
“I’m well aware.” He held my gaze. “You got your idiot self out here. I’m sure you can get yourself back. If you’re lucky, I’ll uncuff you sometime before Christmas.” And with that, he turned and set out for the shore.
“But...” I flipped onto my back and frantically kicked off after him. “But you love me.” I looked across just in time to catch his eye roll before he continued on his way. I swore loud enough for him to hear and followed.
After a few strokes he slowed until I caught up and then swam alongside. He kept a close watch on how I was doing, but every time I caught his eye, he looked away. When we reached the shore, Mads uncuffed me in front of Wright, who couldn’thide his amusement, then wrapped himself in a towel and sat in Wright’s car while the paramedics checked me over.
He didn’t return to my side. He didn’t talk. He didn’t ask any questions. He just sat there, staring at me through the window like I’d broken his goddamn heart.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
NICK
Mads’silent treatment lasted far longer than I’d expected. Long enough to let me know something was seriously wrong. As the hours passed, Chloe was ventilated, scanned, X-rayed, loaded with antibiotics, and transferred to ICU for monitoring as she slowly roused from the effects of the Valium and her temperature recovered. But her lungs remained a soggy mess, ripe for infection. She was stable but by no means out of the woods and only time would tell if her brain had been starved of oxygen too long, or if the frigid waters and her low body temperature had helped protect her. No one was game to predict the outcome.
By the time we were updated on her condition, I’d been assessed, X-rayed, my shoulder strapped, and my body warmed under a space blanket. I’d been grilled by Detective Wright, told that he’d visit me the next day for what I could only assume would be more grilling, and informed that both Austin and Belinda had been arrested and were busy throwing each other under the bus.
