Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 89232 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89232 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Chapter
Twelve
Angelo
* * *
The motor boat approaches the shore by the time I make it to the beach. Roch’s bald head shines in the sun. Sabella sits on the side, clinging to the ropes while the wind whips her hair around her face. She’s wearing nothing but a one-piece swimsuit. It’s fourteen degrees Celsius outside and the water is twelve degrees max. She must be freezing.
Not taking the time to remove my shoes, I half-run and half-slide down the dune. It’s faster than taking the bridges via the island and swimming through the river. I thank any gods willing to listen not only for Roch’s foresight to keep an inflatable boat in the cave but also for his navigational skills.
He reaches the break as I arrive at the bottom of the dune. My gut tightens. The surf is big today. It’s high tide, plus a strong wind blows in from the sea. Roch keeps the boat parallel to the waves. When the swell lifts, he makes a ninety degree turn and rides it out. The wall of water curls, bends, and crashes around them, white foam bashing the boat.
Fuck.
Miraculously, the boat stays afloat.
Sprinting across the sand, I forget to breathe. All I see is a car racing toward a hairpin bend on a mountain road. All I feel is the impending doom of a crash. I’m knee-deep in the water before I register the icy pricks that assault my skin.
Roch repeats the maneuver, steering the boat between the waves before turning the nose head-on into the break. After what seems like forever, he makes it to the shallow water, diverts left to avoid some rocks, and launches the boat smoothly onto the sand.
I run like never before, scraping my shins against the sharp edges of abalone shells that cling to the rocks, but I hardly feel it. Roch cuts the engine. His soaked clothes are plastered to his body. He reaches for Sabella, trying to pull her to her feet.
Her hysterical words reach me over the deafening crash of the breakers. “Don’t fucking touch me!”
Roch freezes with flaring nostrils and a clenched jaw. His baritone voice carries louder than hers. “The least you can do is thank me for saving your life.”
“I told you to stay the hell away from me,” she yells.
“Roch,” I call in warning, a few steps away from the boat.
If he hears me, he doesn’t react. “Fine,” he shouts, shoving her with both palms on her shoulders as he continues at the top of his lungs, “Then get the hell out of my boat.”
Sabella falls backward over the side and lands with her ass in the shallow water.
“I should’ve left you in the fucking water.” Roch points a finger at her. “If that’s where you want to be, be my guest and stay there.”
Spluttering and gasping, she braces herself on her arms.
I hook my hands under her armpits when I reach her and hoist her to her feet. “Fuck, Sabella.” Her skin is icy. She trembles like a flimsy sheet of paper in a violent storm. “Are you all right, cara?”
The question is automatic. Of course she’s not all right.
Wrapping one arm around her shoulders and the other under her knees, I lift her into my arms.
She tries to wrestle herself out of my hold. When I only tighten my grip, she fights like a wildcat. “Get off me.”
Her teeth chatter so hard I barely make out what she says.
Roch jumps out of the boat and grabs the rope, his movements jerky and careless.
I carry Sabella out of the water and lower her to the ground. The moment her feet touch the sand, her legs fold under her. Fatigue and shock take over, stealing her fight. I strip off my jacket and hang it around her shoulders. She huddles under the fabric on the wet sand, looking wretched and exhausted and half-dead.
In two long strides, I’m next to Roch. My fist connects with his jaw before he sees it coming. The blow makes him stumble back a step. I land another punch in his stomach that makes him fold double.
Adrenaline born from rage and fear pumps through my veins. “Apologize,” I snap.
Roch grimaces as he straightens. It takes him a moment to find his breath. “I’m sorry. I’m not myself.” He works his jaw. “It’s the scare. I didn’t think she was going to make it. I thought I was too late.”
His words put me on edge. I’ve lost too much. I’m not prepared to lose her as well. If I do, the deaths of everyone this war already claimed will be futile. I won’t allow that. I won’t allow my mother and Adeline’s deaths to have been for nothing.
For good measure, I punch Roch again. He had a fright. So did I. It’s no excuse for how he behaved.