by Kaylea Cross
Since Graham had gone in first, he was under her for a second before he shoved her aside and clawed up for air. She broke the surface next to him.
Maddie still stood where she left her, crying. “Mommy!”
“Run!” Desperation gave strength to her voice even as the cold seeped into her bones.
“Stay!” Graham thundered, and Maddie froze in place.
Ashley held on to the edge of the ice that was crumbling under her fingers. She was already frozen through, to her soul. Graham was better dressed. He was bulkier. Stronger. If he made it out and she didn’t…
She couldn’t let anything happen to Maddie.
The rope lay on the ice next to her. She wrapped it around her arm, then grabbed the brick. She took one last look at her crying daughter then yanked in the brick and went under, grabbed Graham’s coat with her other hand, and pulled him away from the ledge, down into the deep darkness.
He might have had other advantages, but she’d died here once before. She had practice. And she wasn’t afraid of dying again. Not if it saved Maddie.
He fought hard, but he couldn’t counteract both her body weight and the weight of the brick. And he couldn’t pry her off him either. He shot at her several times but missed in the churning, dark water.
Please, God, just keep Maddie safe.
Her body was going numb fast. Her ears were ringing. Graham let go of the gun, or maybe it slipped from his cold fingers. It floated by her, but she couldn’t grab it. She would let go of neither the brick nor Graham.
He tried to shove her away, panicking now, frantic, bubbles going up from his mouth, losing air as he struggled. She stayed calm and just hung on. There was peace down here, in the dark water, knowing she saved her daughter.
Then his grip grew weaker at last. His fingers slid off her arm.
She was cold, so cold. She couldn’t move. The brick anchored her to the bottom, the rope tangled around her arm and holding her in place even when her frozen fingers slipped off it. She had no strength left to free herself. Hypothermia. Her body was slowing.
Over the past year, she’d thought more than once that maybe she should have died under the ice. She’d cheated death. So maybe this was right. Maybe this was her destiny.
For a second, she saw a mirage of Dylan’s little face float in front of her. No anger in his eyes, no fear, no blame. He smiled at her with all the love only a child could give. He seemed so real.
He reached for her and touched the rope, which slid off her arm and disappeared in the deep.
Up, he mouthed, his blue little-boy eyes serene.
Yet, for a moment, staying seemed so tempting. Right here, she could lay down the guilt, the visions, the fear. Death was peaceful and all accepting.
But as Dylan’s face faded away, she chose life anyway, gathering up the last of her strength and kicking her legs, shoving Graham out of her way.
She swallowed water, tried to go back up, but her head bumped into solid ice she couldn’t break through. She’d floated away from the hole while she’d struggled with Graham. His body floated next to her, buoyed by the air trapped in his down jacket. Her lungs burned as she banged on the bottom of the ice with her fists.
“Ashley!” the shout came from above, as if from a great distance, through the sound of rushing blood in her ears.
Jack.
But he was too late. Her vision dimmed; she choked down water as her lungs gasped for air. Then that strange, floating, fading feeling came, one she was familiar with.
When the axe burst through the ice next to her, she barely registered it. When Jack reached in for her, grabbing on to her shoulder, she could do nothing to help. Then her head finally broke out of the water, and she went up choking, coughing up water, trying painfully to gulp some air.
Jack lay on his stomach to distribute his weight evenly, dragging her to air and life, to safety.
“On your stomach,” he ordered as he dragged her completely out. “Are you okay?”
All she could do was nod, sputtering.
And then she watched helplessly as he slipped into the water.
“Mommy? I’m scared.” Her daughter was sobbing somewhere behind her.
“Stay where you are, honey.” She crawled that way, away from the hole. She kept one eye on her daughter, another out for Jack, but he didn’t pull back up above the water.
Her heart pounded hard in her ears, her entire body shaking. Then she reached Maddie, and at the same time, Jack came up, sputtering, dragging Graham up onto the ice with him. He began CPR the second they were clear, banging on the man’s chest.
“Mommy.” Maddie burrowed against her, the wet mess she was. “Jack said I had to stand right here. He said I couldn’t move, and he would get you back.” Her little lips were blue. “He saved you like a prince.”
Ashley wanted to tell her how much she loved her, but she couldn’t speak. She was crying, clutching her daughter, never wanting to let her go again.
Sirens sounded in the distance, then closer. Then the police were there and two ambulances. She was too frozen to talk to anyone. Bing came around. He helped her into the back of the ambulance and told the EMTs to take good care of her. Then he ran off toward Jack.
“Don’t do anything stupid. FBI is on their way,” he yelled.
Graham, a heap of soggy clothes, began coughing water out of his lungs. Jack knelt over the man, breathing hard, his face illuminated by the lights of the emergency vehicles. He didn’t look at her. He didn’t look at anyone. His world consisted of one man, the one before him. He was back in the world of darkness and vengeance he’d created and lived.
The stark rage on his face sent a shiver down Ashley’s spine, the last thing she saw before one of the EMTs shut the door of the ambulance.
* * *
“Stay back,” Jack warned his captain. “Everybody stay back.” He held on to the edge of the precipice as he looked at the sputtering mess before him.
Good. The bastard hadn’t drowned. Jack coughed up some water himself. He wanted to be looking into those soulless eyes when he pulled the trigger. He wanted the bastard to see death coming and know that it was coming from Jack Sullivan. He had his gun in his hand.
One bullet between the eyes.
He wanted it. He wanted his vengeance. He wanted blood on the ice. He wanted justice.
But would it be?
Or would it just be murder?
If he went over to the other side, could he come back again?
Ashley and Maddie were in the back of the ambulance. They would hear the shot. They would know.
He held his gun, swore at the half-conscious man, and punched the ice next to his head so hard with his free hand he cracked it. He was just pulling back his bloodied fist when Bing reached him.
“Jack, dammit. Step back. That’s an order.”
But he gripped the gun. He couldn’t release it.
* * *
Ashley sat in the back of the ambulance with Maddie, so cold that her teeth were chattering. She didn’t think she’d ever feel warm again. They huddled in their blankets, Maddie holding her hand while the EMT took her vitals. They’d given Maddie a very mild sedative to calm her, to head off her going into shock from the stress and the cold.
“Is Jack okay?” she asked as she leaned against Ashley sleepily.
“Yes, sweety.”
“Is the bad man going to hurt him?”
“No.” Things would happen the other way around, she figured, and wondered if she would ever see Jack again.
If he put a bullet through Graham’s brain, he’d be going off to jail. If he didn’t, the FBI would carry off Graham, and Jack would probably leave too. He would have no more reason to stay in Broslin.
The pain that accompanied that thought was worse than almost drowning again. She didn’t realize how much she’d come to care for him until she’d seen him disappear in that dark water.
Maddie fell asleep, her little body going limp.
The ba
ck door of the ambulance opened, but even that didn’t wake her. Jack climbed in, got wrapped up, then put his arms around them without saying a word.
The ambulance was moving, going down the road by the time he asked, “Are you okay? Maddie?”
She blinked back her tears as she nodded.
He took her hand, held it between his.
She let him. “What happened?”
“I thought Blackwell was important.” He drew a long breath, held her tighter. “Then I saw you go under with him as I was tearing down the road. It put things into perspective.”
“You let Bing take him?”
“The FBI is here. They’ll do what has to be done.” He reached up and brushed the wet hair out of her face.
“Probably look like a drowned rat,” she said, suddenly flustered.
“You look alive.” He gave a lopsided smile. “I like that look on you. It’s pretty damn fantastic.”
They sat in silence. He held her gaze as Maddie slept on her lap.
“I’m a no-good, messed-up, obsessed cop,” he said after a while. “You deserve better.”
“Says who? I’m a freaked-out, loopy artist.”
He gave a bark of a laugh and took her lips in a soft kiss.
Chapter Fifteen
He went with them to the hospital. They were all checked over for cuts and bruises as well as hypothermia. The doctor kept Maddie overnight for observation. Even though she hadn’t been in the water, she was a slight little thing and chilled through pretty fast. Since she was sleeping peacefully, the nurse sent Ashley home for a hot shower and rest. Jack got them a cab and went with her.
And stayed with her.
“Why don’t you grab a couple of hours of sleep?” he asked once she came out of the bathroom, wearing her thickest sweater and pants.
She wrapped her arms around herself. She didn’t think she would ever get warm again. “I should go in and wait for Maddie.”
“The nurse said she won’t be released until after the doctors make their rounds at eight in the morning.” He’d been up in the loft, looking out into the night.
She looked past him, out through the windows. The emergency vehicles had left, darkness blanketing the reservoir again. He didn’t ask if he could stay, but she would have said yes if he did. She didn’t want to be alone tonight.
“Go to sleep,” he said. “I’ll wake you up at seven and take you in.”
“You don’t have to.”
“She matters to me too.”
She felt a smile tug at her lips. “She was pretty impressed with the rescue.”
“Let’s hope I’ll never have to do that again.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t believe you about Blackwell,” she said quietly. “You were right.”
“Just because you’re paranoid, it doesn’t mean they’re not out to get you, and all that.” Humor glinted in his cerulean eyes, his tone and expression lighter than she’d ever seen it.
Her heart gave a hard thud. She wanted him to take her into his arms but didn’t know how to ask. He’d just saved her life, hers and Maddie’s. Didn’t seem like she should be asking for more.
“Bathroom is yours. You can take the guest room after that,” she told him as she walked into her bedroom. Then she pulled all the covers on top of her and let exhaustion claim her at last.
She woke a little before seven, shivering. She found him in her room in the armchair by the window, sleeping with his long legs stretched out in front of him. He wore his own clothes again, instead of what he’d been given at the hospital, and they were dry. Must have put them in the dryer at some point.
Moonlight poured in the window unobstructed, lighting his face, the hard edge of his jaw barely softened by sleep, the rough stubble testament to relentless days of hunting a killer. Her heart turned over. He was a mixture of warrior and protector and sheer exhaustion. And sexy.
Her gaze settled on those lips that had kissed her into near incoherence not that long ago.
He woke as she stirred. Blinked slowly. “Everything okay?”
“I’m freezing.”
He pushed to his feet and came over to the bed. Waited. When she didn’t object, he slipped in beside her and took her into his arms.
This was nice. Okay, way more than nice. He tightened his hold on her, and she burrowed into his heat.
He kissed her forehead. Then the bridge of her nose. Then dipped his head lower to her mouth.
His lips were warm and gentle. And exactly what she needed. Heat suffused her as he caressed her lips with his own, then increased the pressure just a little until she opened up and let him in.
The heat built with every stroke of his tongue, then raced across her skin as he moved his hands over her body. It wasn’t the kind of sexy seduction splashed across the silver screen by Hollywood. They were new to each other, unsure, awkward. They were both fully dressed.
Heck, she was dressed for the Iditarod.
Not for long. Because soon the heat became too much, and she reached for the hem of her sweater. He helped to remove it. Then the long-sleeved cotton shirt under that. He hesitated at the plain cotton bra.
She stifled a groan as he stared at her chest. Her first sexual encounter in years, and she was wearing grandma thermal underwear. He didn’t look appalled. In fact, his gaze heated.
He claimed her lips again, his hand moving to her breast, outlining the bra, then cupping her gently. He trailed kisses down her neck, to the top of her breasts, his hands hesitating on the material as he fought with himself.
He looked up with a tortured look in his eyes. “You need rest.”
“I need you,” she said simply, and that was all the encouragement he needed.
The bra disappeared in the next second, and his seeking lips wrapped around her nipple. He nudged, nibbled, drew on the tight bud until her back arched, pleasure zinging through her, more heat gathering at the core of her.
She was falling for him, and she was helpless to stop it.
She was half out of her mind by the time he kissed his way down her abdomen. He stripped away her pants, trailing kisses down her legs, then up. She was more than ready for him, grabbing his shoulders and trying to urge him up, wanting him to line up their bodies at last.
“I don’t have protection,” he said in a strangled whisper.
Neither did she. It’d been forever since she’d been with a man. She groaned in frustration, shutting her eyes tightly. But her eyelids flew wide open when he touched his mouth to her core. He grabbed her legs by the ankles, pushed her knees up, opened her to him.
By the time she thought of protesting, she was flying high on pleasure, threshing her head on the pillow, calling out his name.
Pleasure broke like a cresting wave as she called his name on a sob, and she sank into utter bliss, the whole world disappearing around them.
When she slowly returned to reality, he came up next to her and held her.
“I don’t know how to be normal,” he whispered into her hair.
“I’m okay with outstanding. Which this was, by the way.” She smiled against his chest.
He pulled back enough to look into her eyes. “You know what I mean.”
She did. He meant in life, in general. “Well, don’t look at me for pointers.”
She was smiling, but he stayed serious.
“I want this,” he said. “I want you. For more than tonight. I’m the worst person to take a chance on, but I want you to anyway. I’m going to try my best. I swear.”
“Yes,” she said.
Epilogue
Spring came early and warm, the trees budding into a profusion of leaves. Ashley went to New York with Maddie and Jack and had a show opening that was the talk of the town. She sold half her paintings that first night and all the rest by the end of the week. She’d been uneasy with the travel but not scared. Having survived a second trip under the ice, having survived a serial killer, having faced her fears at last had changed something.
While in New York, as a surprise gift to Maddie, Jack had taken them to see a Disney musical. And, with a minimum of squirming, he sat through the long show of princess ballerinas in pastel tutus bouncing around the stage. After that, Maddie was pretty much in love with him.
When they returned home to Broslin, he also had a surprise for Ashley.
“Where are we going?” she asked as he led them out back, after making sure everyone was bundled up.
“A hike through the woods.”
He took her hand.
Maddie bounded down the path in front of them in the twilight. Since she stopped to examine every ant and funny-looking leaf, she didn’t get too far ahead.
Unease spread through Ashley. “We’re not going back there, are we?”
Jack looked at her. “Trust me.”
And she found that she did, so she followed him to the boulder by the creek. The hole in the ground was piled high with large, flat packages. Her macabre paintings wrapped in construction paper—she knew without him having to say anything.
“How about a bonfire?” he asked.
She looked at the heap and nodded, while Maddie squealed in the kind of frenzied delight only six-year-olds could produce. Ashley could barely catch her to press a kiss to the top of her head.
Jack took care of everything but let her throw the match. And as the paper, then the oil in the paint caught on fire, she realized she’d needed to do that.
Maddie skipped around the fire, tossing old acorns into the flames. Jack went around and picked up whatever police tape still clung to branches here and there and burned those. Then he came to stand behind her and folded his arms around her. “Are you okay?”
“I haven’t…seen anything lately.” She stared into the flames, feeling a tremendous weight lift with the smoke.
“You know my theory,” he said quietly next to her ear. “When you were in that coma, you knew you hadn’t been able to save Dylan. Guilt held you back. Maybe part of you that wasn’t ready to return, wasn’t ready to let go of Dylan, didn’t. And in this in-between place, with unresolved emotions, others entering the place could connect with you. Others who weren’t ready to go screamed out against the unfairness.”