She’d be furious that I got myself into this mess, that I didn’t fight harder, that I evenconsideredleaving her like this. And that’s almost more terrifying than bleeding out in the dirt.
The sky above me tilts and swirls, clouds merging into strange patterns. Funny how the mind works when it’s shutting down. Colors seem too bright and sounds are too distant. Theyslip farther away, like I’m watching the world from the wrong end of a tunnel.
Bree’s face flashes in my mind, furious and terrified, but beautiful.
The thought barely forms before the tunnel stretches impossibly far, the last sliver of light flickering…
And then, nothing.
thirty-five
BREE
The wheels of the plane hit the ground with a jolt that rattles my teeth and sends a fresh surge of panic through my body. I grip the armrests until my knuckles ache, willing the plane to hurry and let me off.
The godforsaken Wi-Fi didn’t work the entire flight, leaving me stranded with nothing but my own frantic thoughts. No updates. No news. No lifeline to the outside world. Just endless hours of silence, my mind spinning through every horrifying possibility.
As soon as the seatbelt light blinks off, I’m up, practically shoving my way down the aisle. I don’t care about the annoyed mutters from the people I pass. My heart feels like it’s about to explode, pounding so hard it’s all I can hear.
The moment I’m through the airport, my eyes scan the crowd. And then I see Juliette, standing stiffly by the arrival gate. Her face is pale, her shoulders tense. She doesn’t wave. She doesn’t smile.
The knot in my chest tightens as I approach.
“Did they find him?”
She shakes her head, slow and reluctant, her eyes heavy with worry. “Not yet,” she says quietly. “But they’re searching. Knox is out there, and they’ve got people?—”
“I need to go,” I cut her off, my words tumbling out in a rush. My breath is coming too fast, too shallow, but I don’t care. “Where’s the hospital? Or the river? Anywhere he might be.”
Juliette reaches out, her hands firm and unmoving as they grip my arms. It’s the only thing keeping me from bolting. “We’ll go. You need to breathe first, okay? Just breathe.”
I want to scream at her to let go, to stop telling me what to do when I’m drowning. How am I supposed to breathe when the panic’s wrapped around me like a vise, squeezing tighter with every second that passes?
Instead, I nod. I swallow back the fear climbing my throat, forcing it down even though it threatens to choke me.
She pulls me into a quick hug, her warmth anchoring me. I don’t hug her back. I can’t seem to make the right movements, but I let her hold me for just a moment.
“Come on,” she says softly. “Let’s get you there.”
Her hand brushes my arm, and I barely register it. Every step I take is mechanical, like I’m not even in control of my own body anymore. I can’t shake the image of Callan in my head. Alone. Cold. Hurt. Or worse.
The drive is a blur of rain-slicked roads, the world outside melting into a haze that matches the mess inside my brain. I try to focus, but my thoughts bounce around too much. Juliette’s voice drifts through the fog, but it doesn’t reach me. Her words are muffled, meant to fill the silence between us, but it’s all I can do to hold myself together long enough to even hear her.
By the time we pull up to the makeshift command center near the river, my hands are already trembling. The scene before me is straight out of a nightmare.
Flashing lights from rescue vehicles cut through the rain,illuminating the muddy banks. Volunteers move like shadows in the downpour, their faces hollow with exhaustion, their movements automatic, as if they’ve done this too many times before.
I don’t wait for the car to stop before I’m out, my body reacting before my brain can catch up. My boots hit the mud, and my eyes scan the crowd. I look for anything that will tell me he’s here. That he’s alive. That this suffocating, bone-deep fear gnawing at me isn’t the new air I’m forced to breathe.
None of the faces are his.
A burly man steps into my line of sight, his fluorescent rescue jacket glaring under the floodlights.
“Are you family?” His accent is so thick I can barely make the words out.
I open my mouth, but no sound comes. I can’t even find the oxygen to answer him, let alone form the words.
Juliette steps forward, her small frame somehow commanding as she positions herself between me and the rescuer.
