"That's it." I turn him onto his side, rubbing his back as more water comes up. "That's it, buddy. Get it all out. You're okay."
I pull him against my chest.
"Daddy's got you."
The word falls out before I can stop it.
Shit.
I've never thought of myself like that. Never dared to, even in my own head. But watching his eyes flutter open—confused and terrified but alive—I can't explain the feeling.
Keira makes a sound that's half sob, half laugh, and then she's gathering him from my arms, rocking him while tears stream down her face.
"You're okay, baby. You're okay. Mommy's here. Mommy's got you."
I sit back on my heels and let myself feel it.
Relief finally crashes through me like an absolute wave. My hands are shaking now, adrenaline fading, every injury I ignored screaming for attention. The cut on my ribs sizzles like a brand. My lungs ache. My muscles have turned to lead.
But my son is alive.
Keira is alive.
We made it.
I let myself soak it in for exactly three seconds.
Then I look up.
The yacht towers over us, a floating monument to everything I'm about to destroy. The service platform is visible from here.
And there, crawling toward the door like the cockroach he is, leaving a smear of blood across the white decking, is Calder.
Still alive.
Not for long.
I push to my feet, ignoring every alarm blaring inside me.
"Tristan." Keira's voice is barely a whisper. She's still clutching Hale to her chest. "Wait. You're hurt."
"Stay with him." I crouch beside them, running my hand through Hale's wet hair, pressing my forehead to Keira's for one stolen moment. "I need you both safe while I finish this."
"Let someone else?—"
"No chance in hell."
She stares at me.
"Remember that promise I made you? In the maintenance room, in the garage, in the garden." I hold her gaze. "Every time I wrote myself into your skin. Long before I even touched you, I promised I would make him pay for everything he took."
Her eyes fill with fresh tears.
"Every bruise." I brush my thumb down her chin. "Every night you spent afraid in your own bed. Every time he made you feel worthless. Every time he locked you in a room and made you beg."
Her hand catches mine before I can pull away. "Come back to me."
"Always."
