by Linda Verji
Shakira didn’t care. The acid smell of Gates cooking body still permeated the air, working fear into her blood even more than the gun Karyn kept brandishing in her face. Despite her fear, however, Shakira was determined not to let the agent know that the thumb-drive was in Nathan’s pants. If Karyn knew that Nathan had it, she would go for it and that scared her even more than her own precarious position.
Shakira worked her jaw to ease the pain from the gun’s blow, her tongue grazed painfully against a loose tooth and she tasted her own blood. Turning her head, she spat out the tainted saliva before turning to Karyn. “I told you I hid it in the house and the only way you’re getting it is if I get it for you.”
“You think I’m stupid? You found out about the players after you’d left your house. So the drive isn’t there.” Karyn crouched low and yanked Shakira’s head back by the hair. Pulling hard on the kinky strands and doodling on the sensitive skin under Shakira’s chin with the cold metal, she threatened, “Tell me where it is or I’ll put a bullet in you right now.”
Then shoot me. Shakira wanted to yell out but even she wasn’t brave enough to call out to death like that.
“Where is it?” Karyn’s breath was hot against Shakira’s face as she offered, “You didn’t leave it in your hotel room. It’s not in your bags and it’s not on you. Where is it?”
Shakira kept quiet.
“You didn’t have a chance to give it to someone else either…” Karyn’s voice trailed off and the movements of her gun on Shakira neck stilled. “…or did you?”
Please. Please. Please. Don’t realize that Nathan has it.
Karyn chuckled, her breath washing over Shakira’s cheek as she asked, “Does your boyfriend have it?”
Shakira jerked in fright.
“I guess that’s a ye-” Karyn never completed the sentence because just then the sole TV in the room flickered alive – all on its own. Both Karyn and Shakira’s gaze shot upwards as a picture of an untidy room. But it was the image of the two men creeping into the room that held the women’s attention.
“Well, well, well! Look who just came in.” Karyn clucked her tongue as she tilted Shakira’s face until they were face to face. A cruel smile lit up hers as she added, “Looks like I don’t need you anymore.” She yanked Shakira upwards by her arm.
“Ugh!” Shakira screamed as the joint at her right shoulder tore away from the muscle there with a pop.
The pain was excruciating – like having her arm amputated without the benefit of anesthesia. She could feel it in her shoulder, her neck, her throat, her stomach…everywhere. It seized her nerves, pricked them with invisible needles and then twisted them unbearably. Blinded by it, Shakira fell from the chair and to her knees with another cry as her cuffed arm flopped uselessly behind her back.
Indifferent to Shakira’s cries, Karyn grabbed her by the collar of her jacket and began dragging her towards the screen. Breathing rapidly from exertion and her face set and furious, the agent inched Shakira closer and closer to Gate’s chemical grave. Shakira felt every inch of that floor; every bump and every knot, as it agonizingly scoured her frontal body.
Despite her pain, she was not ready to die. Fear faded to be replaced by an even baser instinct: survival. She flipped onto her back with a suddenness that shocked Karyn enough that her gun went off in an explosion of sound. The shot reverberated through the cabin and started a ringing in Shakira’s ears. Ignoring it, she shot her foot out and putting all her strength into it kicked Karyn’s leg hard.
With a shriek, Karyn tilted forward. With a sickening thud, the red-head’s body met the floor face-first. She didn’t move.
Was she unconscious?
Was she dead?
Shakira didn’t care. The lapse in the agent’s defenses was all she needed. With agility she didn’t even know she possessed, Shakira sprung from the floor already racing for the steps. Gritting her teeth against the pain waves her arm was insistently sending, she bolted up the stairs and through the hatch.
Blinking to accustom her eyes to midmorning sun’s rough and blinding welcome, she turned, running along the deck towards the bow. She came to a screeching halt at the edge of the bow when she realized that the sailboat had drifted a small distance away from the pier. The rope connecting the two solids was stretched tight across the strip of water. She would have to pull on it to drag the boat closer.
She tried.
Ignoring her stomach’s automatic revolt at the sight of so much water, she turned her back and tried to grip it. But the resulting pain was crippling enough to almost cause Shakira to black out. Grunting, she turned once more to face the dock.
She’d have to jump.
“It’s not that far,” Shakira muttered aloud as she mentally girded herself. “You can do this.”
A loud blast sounded from below deck. Damn it! Karyn was alive and shooting. It was enough to get Shakira moving. She backed away from the edge of the boat and then took off at a run. Using the momentum, she jumped towards the dock – and missed.
Legs flailing, she fell straight into the water.
Intense fear engulfed her almost at the same time the icy water did. She gasped for breath just as her head sunk below the surface. Holding her breath, she struggled to kick herself upwards.
It worked – for a moment.
Her head bobbed above the water for just a second allowing her to take another gasp of air but also swallow some water before she sunk in again. Her cuffed arms and the clothes clinging to her body were like anchors weighing her down. Her lungs were burning with the urge to release the carbon-dioxide and water she was holding and take in some oxygen. She tried kicking upwards again but this time didn’t even break the surface. The murky waves were intent on sucking her into her watery grave.
Someone help me.
Please.
Nathan.
Her mind screamed but no one grabbed her hand to pull her out of the water. In that moment her life flashed before her eyes. Nathan, Eve, London. She would never be able to see them again. She was going to die. Triplet feelings of hopelessness, sadness and loneliness engulfed her and she stopped fighting.
Her mouth and nose started to fill with water. The ringing started in her ears like a fire alarm signaling the end. Intense cold took the place of blood in her limbs seeping into her bones and immobilizing them. Her mind numbed and her thoughts faded into nothingness. Slowly she went limp as a soothing peace blanketed her.
Closing her eyes, Shakira let the water take her.
CHAPTER 29
Nathan heard the shots just as they were exiting the cabin. Trading a shocked look with Randall, he took off in the direction of the gunfire. He raced to the back of the cabin and towards the forest. Easily finding the path between the line of trees, he darted in with Randall right on his heels.
Until now, Nathan had never known real desperation. It raced in his veins like hot lava scalding him until he was sure his whole body was a volcano on the verge of erupting. If something had happened to Shakira….he didn’t know how he was going to live without her. He couldn’t.
Not knowing whether he was going in the right direction, he followed his instincts and the muddy path. Panting in hushed irregular bursts and aware of Randall’s heavy steps beside his, he weaved through the thick foliage and to the opening at the end of it.
They emerged from the trees just in time to see Karyn limping across the deck of the white sailboat, gun raised and her head whipping back and forth as if hunting for something. So intent was she on her search that she didn’t notice the two men racing towards her until they were almost upon her.
“Put your gun down,” Randall bellowed as they hurtled down the dock, the wood creaking and groaning under them and threatening to collapse. He yelled again, “Gun down.”
She backed away as her shocked eyes fixed on Nathan and Randall. She turned the gun on them but before she could pull the trigger, shots rang out. Nathan wasn’t sure which one of them caught her in the leg bu
t her gun fell to the deck, its thump masked by the woman’s shrill scream.
Nathan barely heard the agent’s screeching, as he hurtled closer to the sail boat and his eyes scanned the deck seeking Shakira. Nothing! Instinctively he turned his hunt the murky grey depths of the lake. His heart almost stopped when he spotted the blue jacket floating above the water.
Without second thought, Nathan dropped his gun and dived into the lake, his entire being occupied with the need to save her. Slicing across the water with quick sharp strokes, he swam towards her. She was face down. Treading the water, he turned her.
Jesus.
Her skin was an ashen grey, there was a swelling lump on her jaw and her eyes were closed. She looked dead.
You’re not dead. You’re not dead. Nathan chanted desperately as he hauled Shakira’s soaked, prone form towards the sailboat. Randall was there to help him lift her on deck. His clothes were wet and heavy as he scrambled up the side ladder but he barely noticed them or Karyn who was now handcuffed to the guardrail. He rushed to Shakira who was now on her back.
Randall had already turned her head to the side to drain water from her mouth and nose. He moved aside for Nathan to take over. Turning her head back to the center and pinching her nose, Nathan took a strong gulp of air then bent. He connected his lips to hers then pushed air into her lungs. Four strong breaths later, he put his ear on her mouth to see if she was breathing.
Nothing.
She didn’t cough.
Her chest didn’t move either.
You’re not dead. You’re not dead.
He placed two fingers on her wrist for ten seconds. There was no pulse.
Please dear God. Don’t let her die.
Aware of the tears that were slipping down his cheeks, he took another deep breath and dipped his mouth to hers. As he pushed four breaths into her, he skimmed over the strange peak right below her shoulder and moved his hand to her chest. Ignoring the wet t-shirt clinging to her body, he knelt then pushed the heel of his hand downwards starting chest compressions.
“Wake up, Kira,” he pleaded as he pumped rhythmically on her chest. “Wake up.”
On the seventeenth compression, her body spasmed upwards violently - and then she coughed.
“That’s it.” Nathan had never been that happy to see someone coughing and retching water.
She’d come back to him.
CHAPTER 30
Shakira found herself in a waking fantasy; a soft bed cushioning her body, the sweet scent of flowers tickling her nose and best of all, silence.
Sweet silence!
Considering the kind of commotion that’d been going on around her, it was a blessed relief. There were no hands on her aching body mending it or adjusting her position. No uncomfortable pricks on her arm as they forced medication into her. No voices in her ear begging her to come back. Even Eve had cut short her Jamaican holiday to come bother Shakira with shrill claims of how she was going to give herself to the Lord if her baby just woke up. Hmph!
Oh, how she’d wished to cuss them out and tell them to leave her alone. Can I get some peace and quiet in here? She’d wanted to shout. But her voice seemed to have locked itself in the same tight vice of unconsciousness that her eyes, bones, joints and muscles were in. She couldn’t open her eyes, she couldn’t speak and she couldn’t move. It was damn irritating.
And now finally they were gone.
Silence.
Her lips curved in pleasure as she opened her eyes. Her vision smarted from the soft glow of a nearby lamp but soon cleared up and the ceiling came into focus. She sucked in a deep breath but nearly choked on it when it scoured her throat painfully. In response, she jerked slightly in the bed but that small movement was enough to send needles of pain pricking at her right shoulder. When she turned her head, it was to find her right arm bound to her side with a large bandage to match her white gown.
Good God! What happened to me?
Bemused she turned her head again. The bedside table looked like a flower garden. Vase after vase after vase decked its tops and then trailed off to the floor. But it wasn’t the flowers that caught her attention. It was him.
He was deep asleep, his shoulders hunched and his arms propping his head on the bed right beside her waist. His hair was a mess, some of the long spikes standing on end as if he’d raked his fingers through them repeatedly and in frustration. Reaching out, she smoothed her palm over the silky strands.
“Nath-” Her voice was the rough croak of frogs singing on the bayou and he didn’t even stir. Clearing her throat, she tried again, “Nathan.”
This time he heard. He came awake slowly, peering over his arms with blurry and reddened eyes as if still half in his dreams. Then his eyes lit up. “You’re awake.”
Shakira smiled in response. “Yes.”
Before she knew it, he was gathering her into his arms. Gingerly supporting her injured arm, he compressed her body against his. As if reassuring himself he whispered, “You’re awake.”
Dragging in a shuddering breath, he angled his head and covered her lips. It was only when he did that she realized how she’d missed his kiss. It seemed like days since she’d last tasted him, months since he’d slowed her racing tongue with his, years since his lips had suckled hers passionately. He eased her into the kiss, teased her with his mouth and turned her senses on their head with his mouth. When they finally broke the kiss, they were both breathing heavily.
“What happened to my arm?” she asked when she’d finally drawn in enough air.
“I think Karyn dislocated it. The doctors had to pop it back in.”
Shakira squinted in confusion. “Why would Karyn dislocate my arm?”
“Don’t you remember?”
“Um…I.” Her brow furrowed as she searched her memories. “I remember sitting in the hotel room with you discussing Wayne and his scam. Then we rushed out of the room. You kissed me at the elevator…then…then…” her words trailed off as her memory tapered off into blankness.
His palm moved over her nape in slow calming strokes. “You don’t remember Alim?”
“Alim?” She mimicked him in panicked confusion. “The guy who’s following me?” Her gaze skittered past Nathan to the door as she combed through her memory trying to figure out how she’d gotten here to now avail. “Is he the one who did this to me? Have they arrested him? Have they arrested Wayne?” She cried out desperately, “Why can’t I remember?”
“Shhhh, calm down,” he soothed as he drew her head to his chest. “You’re with me now. It’s safe. It’s going to be alright.”
It wasn’t. According to the doctors she’d lost almost a full day’s memories along with four days to unconsciousness. Having Nathan tell her that it was Karyn behind the whole scam, and not Wayne, and that the agent had been arrested was a small consolation but not enough. She wanted her memories back.
“In most cases, it comes back within a few days,” the doctor assured them. “But we’ll wait and see.”
Her memory came back, not within a few days as they’d hoped, but a month later and in the middle of the night. And when they came back, Shakira regretted every single day she’d prayed for their return. She woke up with a terrified cry as they spilled in like acid rain through a leaking roof during a thunderstorm. They were painful, relentless and inescapable.
“I was dying.” She punched Nathan’s chest trying to push his arms away from her. “You weren’t there.”
He wouldn’t release her. His arms were a tight band around her body as he whispered, “I’m sorry,” over and over again.
“You weren’t there.” She knew it wasn’t his fault but now that she was relieving the memory of sinking into the water, rationality was the furthest thing on her mind. She could remember the icy water blocking her eyes, nose and mouth. She could feel it paralyzing her limbs and burning her lungs. It felt like she was once more battling for air as the water engulfed her.
As the tears leaked out her eyes, she stopped pushing
Nathan away and clung to him as if he was her lifeline. She gasped at the relief of having his warm body pressing against hers instead of freezing water. He was so hard, so strong, so safe. She buried her head on his naked shoulder as she absorbed the comfort he offered.
“I should’ve been there.” At first she thought the whispered words against her hair were in her imagination but when he repeated them, she looked at his face. Even by the soft glow of the bedside lamp, she could see the tortured look of guilt in his eyes. “I should’ve been there.”
In the face of Nathan’s own tumultuous emotion, her own reason returned. Cupping his cheek with his palms she met his. “It wasn’t your fault. I’m sorry I even made you think so.”
“No, you’re right.” He shook his head as a tremor of fierce emotion clouded his eyes darkening them until they appeared black instead of blue. “I shouldn’t have tried to convince you to give the thumb-drive to Karyn. I shouldn’t have-”
“Stop it, Nathan.” She pressed her finger to his mouth. She knew how Nathan was. He was quite capable of holding onto this and torturing himself with it for the next several years if she didn’t put a stop to it. “Karyn fooled both of us. We’re not going to beat ourselves up for the rest of our lives with should’as, could’as and would’as. She is tightly locked up in prison and her fellow cheats are paying for their crimes.” Her voice softened as she added, “And I’m safe. We’re both safe.”
His jaw hardened. “If anything had happened to you-”
“It didn’t.” She leant upwards and pecked his lip. “You got there just in time. Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me.”
“But I want to,” she teased a smile tugging on the edges of her lips. Once more she pressed a kiss to his lips. This one was much longer and she capped it by tagging on his lip before releasing it.
He let out a tortured groan of reluctantly awakening passion. “Don’t.”
“Why not?” Rising on her knees, she shifted her body so she was lightly straddling him. “If it wasn’t for your quick thinking – and dangerous driving-” She cocked her eyebrow to indicate muted disapproval. “I would’ve been dead.”