“Just—Shit. Just be careful.” A few words are exchanged in the background before he talks again. “First responders are on their way, and Bren and I will be there as quickly as we can.”
Acid burns my throat, tears pooling in my eyes.
“And, Colten?”
“Yeah,” I breathe heavily, jumping out of the car.
“I love you.”
“I love you too, brother.”
The call is disconnected, and the rain pelts my head, dripping off my hair and down my temple as I open the trunk to find something. Anything that can help me get her out.
My brain pounds against my skull, making it hard to form cohesive thoughts since she is the only thing I see.
Reaching into the trunk, I haul a black bag forward, digging through the contents and tossing them aside until I find what I need. Thank fuck we all keep a set of tools in our cars. Grabbing the screwdriver, I leave the car running and track through the mud to the edge of the cliffside.
Her truck is nosediving into the river, her headlights and red rear lights taunting me under the waves as she sinks further. Glancing around briefly, I notice a rock shelf above the water, big enough to fit us both, just ten feet from her submerged vehicle.
If I can get her out—
WhenI fucking get her out, we will have to wait there for the helicopter. With the thirty-foot cliffside, there’s no other way.
Swimming isn’t an option.
Gripping the screwdriver handle in my hand, I blow out a breath and notice that her truck hasn’t sunk any further.
“Hold on, Little Ghost.”
Inhaling a deep breath, I jump off the side, my veins flooding with adrenaline. The sound of rain hammering the surface grows louder until the water engulfs me and bubbles ring in my ears. Jumping from that height pushes me farther down into the river, so I open my eyes and locate her truck when the water settles around me.
Quickly kicking myself up to the surface against the current, I prepare myself to take the last breath I’ll need if I’m going to save her. Filling my lungs, I hold my breath, pushing my body downward. The closer I get, the lack of movement in the cab cracks all the bones in my sternum, urging me to gasp for air.
But I can’t.
I won’t.
Come on, baby, fight for me.
Reaching for the door handle to keep myself steady, fight-or-flight for her tears through my soul. I’d rather it be me succumbing to the Columbia than her.
Through the driver’s side window—open slightly—her brown hair floats around her face like the tentacles of a jellyfish, beautifully gliding through the ocean. But nothing about her pale face, floating limbs, and open eyes is angelic.
It’s fucking horrifying, and not even half a second passes before my fist clenching the screwdriver drives into the glass. The metal tip smashes into the side where the glass is weaker. The inferno in my lungs rages, my brain screaming at me to focus on the breath in my lungs instead of hers.
She is my oxygen.
Taryn was my first breath of fresh air since that horrific night. The night that stabbed and scraped into my skin with a serrated blade. She has filled my torn flesh and implanted herself in all the holes.
She is my lifeline, and I refuse to let her go this way. Taryn will hear the words I should’ve said.
Spiderwebs form in the glass. One more blow causes the window to shatter, and the shards flutter into the truck and around me, settling onto the rock platform below it.
My hand releases the screwdriver, and I instantly reach for her. The headlights flicker a few times before the river devours us completely.
Breaking the surface should be relieving. My lungs should be able to draw in the air they need to satisfy them. To keep them inflating and deflating the way they are meant to function so I stay alive.
They don’t.
