Page 85

“Shut up, bitch!” Alastor snarled, and he strode over to Claire’s side.

Claire struggled against her bonds, but it was mostly for show—a distraction. Percy surged forward, on alert, and I saw my opening.

I sprang up, bringing the chair with me, and spun around, swinging it with all my strength. It collided with Percy and knocked him to the ground. Alastor made a sound of outrage and would’ve started for me, but Claire sat up in the water, and he rounded on her instead.

A struggle started between them as Percy got to his feet, enraged, and threw a punch at me. I tried to dodge, but the weight of the chair made it hard, and he hit me in the back, grazing my shoulder blade. I staggered, but managed to stay standing. I knew if I fell, it was over.

“Silence!” Alastor shouted behind me at Claire, and there were frantic splashing sounds.

I pivoted and slammed the chair into Percy again, and he yelled in pain. I struggled against the ropes tying my hands. They burned my wrists, but I loosened one of the knots before Percy came at me again. This time, I managed to dodge his blow, spinning around to face the room again.

To my horror, Alastor was holding Claire’s head underwater, a mass of bubbles breaking the surface. She struggled against him, her legs flailing, but she was tied up and he was strong. On instinct, I moved toward them…and Percy landed a blow on the back of my shoulder that nearly knocked me over.

Pissed off and desperate, I strained hard and lifted the chair up and over my head. My shoulder popped, I groaned in pain, and I brought my hands down in front of me. Something hot and sticky was soaking the back of my shirt, and my dislocated shoulder screamed at me, but adrenaline pushed me forward. I had control of the chair now that it was in front of me, and it just became a real weapon.

Poor Percy didn’t know what was coming to him. He struck out at me with a bloody knife, and I realized in that moment that he hadn’t punched me before—he’d fucking stabbed me. More rage flooded my system, and I dodged his attack easily. His eyes nearly popped out of his head when I advanced on him and swung the chair. I hit him once, twice, and again, until he fell. Once he was on the floor, I pounded his head with the chair so hard that the wood splintered and broke apart, and the rope tying me to it fell apart. He wasn’t getting up soon…or ever.

Panting, I rounded on Alastor, who was still holding Claire under. There were no bubbles on the surface of the water anymore. Panic gripped me, and I tackled him. Distantly, my back and shoulder exploded in pain, but I didn’t give a shit. I got him on the ground on his stomach. Knees digging into his back, I grabbed his neck and twisted as hard as I could, and there was a satisfying pop before he went still.

I was winded and covered in blood, but I couldn’t stop. I quickly loosened the knots around my wrists enough that I could slide my wrists out of the ropes, taking most of the skin with it. I barely felt it as I ran to Claire’s side.

Her lips were turning bluish. Her face was still half-underwater. She was horribly still.

“No,” I whispered, and my shoulder screamed as I hauled her out of the tub and lay her flat on the floor. She’s not breathing. I pressed my fingers to her throat. No pulse.

“No,” I gasped out again. “No, baby. We can’t have come this far. Not for nothing. No.”

Claire’s eyes were half-open, staring at nothing, and Kimmy’s voice played in my head: Brain death happens around six minutes without oxygen. Permanent damage likely after four minutes.

I ripped the front of her dress open to expose her chest. I’d done CPR before, but not on someone I loved with every fibre of my being. Not on my wife.

My shoulder was agony. I wouldn’t be able to do compressions like this. Taking a deep breath, I lifted my arm over my head, gently but firmly. The pain intensified, but I ground my teeth and kept going, using my good arm to pull upward on the joint. With a jolt, it popped back into the socket, and the relief was instant and overwhelming.

I tipped Claire’s head back, opened her mouth, and took a big breath before breathing into her. Then, hand over hand, I compressed her chest. Once. Twice. Then again.

My hands shook, slick with my own blood, as I gave her another breath. Then another. I kept pumping, willing her heart to start. The pain from my stab wound was drowned by adrenaline and sheer desperation.

“Breathe, baby,” I begged hoarsely. “Please. Please.”

Crunch. Her ribs broke under the force of my compression. I gave her another rescue breath. My lungs burned, but I didn’t care. All my breaths were hers, and my whole world was being obliterated with every compression.

I was sobbing and gasping for air and every second that she wasn’t breathing was another second that I was dying right alongside her. But I would not let her go. I’d drag her back from hell itself if I had to, right out of the claws of the devil, and I’d spit in his eye while I did it.

And then, the most beautiful sound in the world: she coughed, and water shot out of her mouth.

“Thank Christ,” I blew out, cupping her face in my hands. My voice came out broken. “You were gone. Fuck, baby, you were gone, and I…”

“John,” Claire rasped, her eyelids fluttering. “What happened? I was under the water…and then…”

“It’s okay,” I said, tears flowing freely down my face. I couldn’t stop kissing her cheeks, her forehead, anywhere I could reach. “You’re alright now. Here, turn over.”

I rolled her carefully into the recovery position, careful to avoid the side with her broken ribs, then lowered my head to listen to her breath. Her pulse was slow, but at least she was getting oxygen. The pain in my body was mounting, but it didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was that her heart was beating.

I pressed a hard kiss against her head, and another sob escaped against my will.

I would’ve followed you wherever you went, my sweet Claire.

Even though it felt like forever, she’d probably only been gone for a minute or two. She retched, and as I rubbed her back, she threw up more water onto the floor. I hadn’t thought someone puking could make me feel so relieved, but there was a first time for everything.