Biting his lip to keep in the curse he wanted to scream, he replied, “Yes, it’s getting faster.” Before she could say anything else, he told her, “Now, you just keep floating, okay? I’m going to go back down and try again. We’ll get this.Iwill fucking get this.”
Chantel didn’t answer, but she closed her eyes to the rain falling steadily down upon them. He dove back down and took a hold of her calf. Pulling as hard as his body would let him, he tried to make her foot shift just a little, but nothing happened. His lungs were burning, her foot was still stuck, and nothing had changed. Absolutely nothing had fucking changed.
As soon as he surfaced, on a rushed and ragged breath, he said, “I need to go and get help.”
He didn’t have a clue whom he’d get. Penelope wasn’t physically able, and anyone else was several miles away.
“No,” Chantel cried out. She reached out to him. “No, don’t leave me here.”
Wading up to her head, he took her cool hands. “I can’t get you free on my own, Chantel. Ineedto go and get help.”
“I’m scared, Phillipe. I don’t want to be here alone.” Her voice trembled, and he felt as though someone had impaled him with a hot poker. “Don’t leave me here.”
That was when he made a decision. He made a promise that he knew would destroy them. “Okay. I won’t leave.”
“Promise?” she demanded.
He ran unsteady fingers down her cheek and gripped her hand tightly. “I promise.”
The sun had finally been replaced by the moon, and as the rain continued to fall on them, he moved around to where Chantel’s head was. Placing his hands beneath the water, he lifted her so that her head was free of the current movingquicker with every passing minute. The water lapped above his waist and covered her entire lower half.
“Phillipe?” she whispered softly.
Looking down, he could see her eyes were open, staring up at him. Battling his tears, he squeezed her head gently as he stood there completely helpless to do anything.
“Yes?” he managed to ask.
“Talk to me.”
Biting his bottom lip, he tipped his head back, feeling the rain fall on his face.How can I possibly talk to her? What am I supposed to say?She was stuck to the bottom of a river that was fucking rising, and he couldn’t do a damn thing about it. A river he had brought her to. A river he had put her in.I am killing her.
“Phillipe?” she murmured. “What are you thinking?”
Feeling an uncontrollable sob tear from him, he confessed, “I’m thinking that I should never have brought you here.”
She reached back and grasped one of his hands holding her head. She was miraculous. Even in a situation like this, she was comforting him.
“No, don’t do that,” she told him firmly.
He leaned down and pressed an upside-down kiss to her lips. They were cool from her body having been in the water for so long. As he felt her mouth part softly beneath his own, his tears fell, joining the moisture already on her cheeks.
“I’m cold,” she whispered against his mouth.
Sucking back an anguished sob, he straightened. “I know, Beauty. I’m so sorry. God, am I sorry.”
A shiver racked her body as her eyes closed.
“Shh, don’t do that,” she said.
The rain continued, and the river rose. There was absolutely nothing he could do but hold her and try to calm her. He was fucking useless.
“Don’t do what?” he asked as clearly as he could.
“Don’t be sorry. You didn’t do anything.”
He shook his head. “I brought you here. I put you in this fucking river, Chantel. Let my guilt happen. Trust me, I deserve it.”
Her small teeth—teeth that had once bitten him in moments of pleasure—bit down on her bottom lip to keep her from trembling and crying.
