“Bella!” I shout.
Nothing.
There’s no time left. I pinch her nose, seal my mouth over hers, and breathe. Her lips taste like seawater and regret.
Breathe, dammit! Breathe!
I pull back, check her chest, and it still doesn’t move. Her skin is clammy now, and growing colder. Placing my hands over her sternum, I start pushing—one, two, three, four, five—then breathe for her again.
Nothing.
My hands are shaking. C’mon, Bella! C’mon!
Five more compressions, then another breath. I’m pushing hard enough that I can hear her chest cracking. I might be breaking ribs right now for all I know, but I’d rather break her ribs than lose her outright.
“Come on!” My voice breaks down the middle like cheap glass. “Don’t you fucking dare die on me!”
Behind us, I can hear Don Leo laughing—that wheezing, wet chortle like a dying seal—and I swear that I’ll kill him.
But not right now. Now there’s only her.
One more compression.
One more breath.
And then?—
She convulses beneath me.
Water erupts from her mouth in a violent, choking sputter. I roll her onto her side immediately, supporting her head as she coughs and heaves and finally, finally, finally sucks in air.
Relief rushes through me and I pull her tight against me before I can stop myself, feeling her wet, shaking body slowly warming back up. One hand cradles the back of her skull and the other is around her waist like I’m afraid she’ll dissolve if I let go.
“You’re alright,” I tell her, and I’m saying it as much for myself as for her. “You’re alright. I’ve got you. You’re alright.”
She’s shaking. Violent, full-body tremors that rattle her teeth together. Her fingers dig into my shoulder and grip me closer to her. A pained sob comes out of her mouth, and she whispers something indecipherable before she starts coughing again.
I glare back and see Don Leo giving me a mocking wave from the deck of his yacht. When I look back, Bella’s brown eyes are shimmering with tears.
“Please,” she whispers against my neck. “Get me out of here.”
26
BELLA
By the timewe reach the dock, I’ve stopped shivering, and I’m not sure if this is an improvement. For all I know, it might just mean my body has given up on thermoregulation as a concept.
I’m so cold that it feels like someone has replaced my bones with frozen pipes that will never thaw.
A black car idles at the end of the pier, and Alik is waiting for us. Slava had called ahead while we sped away from Don Leo’s yacht. When we get in, I notice that the leather seats have been preheated already.
Slava drapes a blanket over me as he buckles me in. “I’ll have Alik take you home first.”
“No.”
The answer surprises both of us. Slava turns to look at me, and his gray eyes shimmer in the dying light of day, flashing silver then shadow then silver again. There’s a smear of coral pink lipstick on his mouth, and I realize that it came from me when he was saving my life.
Once is an accident. Twice is a habit. And by the third time, it’s an addiction you’ll never quit.
