Because Taryn is slack in my arms.
Her dead weight hangs over my shoulder, my body fighting against the waves and current to the ledge in the distance I saw from above before I jumped.
Her head is lolled, wet hair clinging to her lifeless face. My ears concentrate on catching any breaths, listening for anything expelled from her.
Wading through the river, my body tensely holding on to her, I wipe the water from my eyes to see more clearly through the dark. It does little against the rain.
“Come on, Taryn, I need you to wake up!”
No response, but I didn’t think I would get one.
She’s not dead.
She won’t die like this.
Even if it meant begging the Grim Reaper to take my soul in place of hers, I would do it without hesitation. I would crash down onto my knees and give myself over because the world needs her more than me.
I thought the clouds were raging above before. Flashes of lightning brighten the wet rock walls and surface around me, the sky’s screams and angry voices crackling through the air as I slap a hand onto the ledge, pushing her weak body up before me.
Our clothes cling to us like a second layer of skin. I should be shivering, convulsing from the chilled waters of the Columbia and the relentless rain. My body should be reacting to the cold encasing my skin instead of heating to temperatures that rival hell because of how angry I am at myself for letting this happen.
Pulling my frame up on the ledge, the jagged rocks dig into my knees as I crawl toward her head. Her lifeless eyes stare into the unforgiving heavens. Water droplets cascade down her creamy and colorless skin.
“Taryn, baby,” I whisper shakily, lifting my hand to the skin below her jaw, my fingers jittering against where the pulse in her neck should be responding.
Fluttering.
Dancing.
Giving any sign of life.
But there is nothing.
Rain in my gaze is replaced with the lick of flames, awakening my insides with a drive I’ve never known. Raising my body above hers, I bring my hands to her chest, starting chest compressions. I reach far back into the storage box in my memory, frantically pulling out the contents until I locate the CPR class I took as a lifeguard for a summer.
My knuckles turn white as I force some of my weight into a rhythmic motion against her fragile chest, attempting to fight the hold of death. My hands tremble uncontrollably, but I try to push through.
Fuck!
My arms burn, and my mouth mutters numbers out loud, counting the compressions.
“Breathe,” I shout the command into nothingness, the world around us insignificant and blurred. “Breathe, Taryn!”
My desperation overtakes my hands, and my movements come faster as fear grips me. Removing my hands, my thumb fondles her cold lower lip with a hue of blue only icy waters can create.
Lowering my mouth to hers, I draw oxygen into my lungs, then force my life, my breath, into the girl who has completely destroyed my world in the best way possible.
Taryn Meyers was destined to upend my life and devastate my control. And as my lips press into hers, I realize I never want to go a day without that aching burn deep in my chest that stirs with the craving to be closer to her, even when it’s impossible.
“You make me better, baby,” I mumble against her lips.
I rise above her, starting chest compressions again, digging my hands deeper this time, feeling the splintering of bone beneath my palms.
A faint ripple in her throat catches my eye.
“Come back to me,” I grunt breathlessly. “Lash out at me. Show me that fight I’ve seen in you since the beginning. Breathe so I can get on my knees and lay my heart at your feet and beg for your forgiveness before I tell you how much I love you—how badly and profoundly I’ve loved you since you sat across from me in that office.”
Her blue lips part, her eyes blinking away the rain collecting in them. I hold on to the last sliver of hope wherever it’s hiding in my soul.
