by Kim Linwood
Brett stomps on the brakes, but the dock is wet and way too short. Tires squeal against slick wood as the edge comes closer and closer.
We’re not going to make it.
I cling to Montana, my own voice ringing in my ears as my scream competes with the shrill whine of the brake pads.
The van slows. The edge comes nearer. I want to pinch my eyes shut, but I can’t look away. The approaching water looks dark and cold, and I so do not want to be in it.
Even slower. We might actually make it. It’s going to be close, but I think we’ll—
There’s a loud thunk and the whole van shakes as the front wheel slips over the lip of the pier.
Oh my God, we’re gonna die.
And then we stop with a final splintering sound of undercarriage against wood. The front of the van hangs over the water, but we stopped. We made it. I can’t believe it. “We made it!”
“Move to the back of the van,” Brett says while easing out of his chair and trying not to put any more weight forwards than he has to. “I think we’re stable, but we’d better get out of this thing as soon as possible.”
That’s when we hear the squeal. There’s a siren too, but honestly, with everything going on, I’d kind of put the police out of my mind for the moment. The squeal is more worrying, since it’s coming closer fast.
For one hopeless moment Montana and I stare at each other, then the police car slams into the back of the van with a crash. We lurch forwards, the crunch of shattering wood sounding below us, and then the van tips.
47
Montana
The weight of the motor pulls the front of the van down, dragging us right into the murky darkness. Fuck. After all that, only to have it end this way…
“We’re going to have to swim.” The driver climbs onto his seat and starts to strip. His buddy too. They’ve got matching SEAL Team tattoos on their upper arms. I guess that explains the crazy.
Andrea looks at me with a panicked expression. “I’m in a wedding dress!”
This van’s leakier than an outhouse roof. We’re going to be out of air soon, even as we’re sinking deeper into the lake. “Get out of it. We don’t have much time.”
I give her a hand with the zippers before I tear off my tux. This is going to be fucking cold, but it’ll be a million times worse trying to swim in waterlogged clothes. When the last scraps have fallen, I’m down to my undershirt and boxers, and her down to sexy matching bra and panties. Love the look, hate the situation.
There’s a sigh of regret as the caterers survey the cheeses they’re leaving behind. “I’ll miss them,” the broader one sniffs, then he sets to rolling down the passenger side window. Water comes rushing in, splashing over his hands and into the footwell. “Shit, that’s freezing!”
I glare at the shorter guy. “Was it really that hard to stay on the fucking road?”
He glares right back. “For a guy whose only option was escaping with the caterers, you sure complain a lot.”
“Insurance better cover this,” the other guy grumbles, who’s climbed back up. “It’s going to take forever to replace this beauty, not to mention all the cheese.”
I shake my head. Those two are nuts, and meanwhile the rushing water is rising quickly inside the car. The guy was right in opening it. We need a way out, but that doesn’t make the shrinking of the little air pocket we have any less scary.
As the cold water licks my toes and crawls up towards my ankles, I lift Andrea, keeping her as dry as I can while my feet start to turn numb. Her arms go around my neck, holding tight despite the shivering.
Alright, there’s no time like the present. “We need to get out of here.”
Andrea pulls away long enough to look at me. Almost naked and with stinky cheese still smeared into my hair, I must be quite the sight.
“You’re udderly disgusting,” She says with a shaky laugh. “Wisconsin.”
Keeping on a brave face. I grin. “That’s why you love me.” She sputters in indignation, but buries her face back in my neck rather than respond.
We don’t have much time, but there’s one thing I’ve got to do, just in case… well, just in case. I glance at the cheese guys. “You two go first. Give us a minute then I’ll send Andrea.”
They look at each other and nod, wincing as they lower themselves into the water. The shorter one nods at me. “See you guys on the other side. Good luck.”
Thanks for fucking nothing.
The water is up to my thighs, and no matter how hard she tries, Andrea can’t keep her legs out of it anymore. I glance up. The back windows are submerged. We’ve gone totally under.
Andrea holds me tighter. “I don’t know if I can do it.”
“You can swim, right?”
She nods. “But you don’t know me. It takes me like a half an hour to make it up to my waist. In July!”
“We don’t have a half hour, princess,” I whisper into her ear. “The longer we stand around, the colder we’re going to get, and the harder it will be to move in the water.”
“I know… I know.” She takes a deep breath and slips her lower half out of my arms, sliding her bare legs into the water. “Oh God.”
It’s now or never.
I take her face in my hands and kiss her. Our lips are cold, but as soon our tongues slide together, there’s nothing but heat between us. She’s my wife. She’s going to be the mother of my kid.
“I do too, you know.”
“Wh—what?” she stammers, cheeks flushed.
Shit, time's short, but there's enough air in here for this. Did she really not think that I was in this for her? "I love you. If I haven't made that obvious yet, I'm not doing a good enough job showing it. I want the baby, I want the responsibility, but more than any fucking thing, I want you."
I pull her close and mash my lips against hers. Losing myself in her, I nearly forget the danger we're in. She feels that good. If she weren't shivering in my arms to remind me where we are, we'd probably both drown.
Reluctantly, I pull away and look at the carnage around us. If we make it out of here, we’ll have a vigil for all the cheese wheels that went down so that we may live. “I know we didn’t do this right, and we’re still getting to know each other.” Talk about an understatement. “But, if we get out of this, I will do everything I can to make it up to you. If you want to go back to school and be an accountant or a zookeeper, or… I don’t know… rule Chicago. I’ll make it happen.”
She laughs and buries her cold nose into my neck. “Can I be an accountant who rules a zoo in Chicago?”
“Absofuckinglutely.”
“I might hold you to that.”
“Baby, if we get out of this, that’s not all I expect you to be holding,” I tease.
A sniff behind Andrea gets my attention. “That’s touching, isn’t it, Brett?” I tear my gaze away from her beautiful face to find the cheese guys still here, crouched into the icy water, ready to leave, but instead they’re staring at us like we’re in a fucking movie. “Totally worth it.”
“What the hell are you guys still here for? Get your asses out of the van!” I growl.
“Yes, sir! Told you we were romantics,” the taller one says before taking a couple of deep breaths and ducking under. His buddy follows right behind. It’s hard to see them for long in the dark water, but they make it out the window at least.
The water is over my waist. “Ready?”
“I’m ready to be out of the lake.”
“Close enough. Look, we aren’t that far under yet. Take a breath, go over the seat and try to make it out the window. I’ll be right behind you as soon as I see you’re out. Once we’re out, follow the van up towards the surface and push off the bottom.”
“Right. I can do this,” she whispers with blue tinged lips. “You owe me a zoo.”
I can’t resist kissing her once more. Not because I think we’re going to die—there’s no fucking way I’m letting that happen—but because there’s a decent chanc
e that once we hit the surface, I’ll be spending my honeymoon in jail.
“I love you.” The words come more easily the second time, feeling more right each time I say them.
“Love you too, Madagascar.”
Then she slips out of my arms and I get a flash of long legs and a perfect ass before she’s gone. I watch, ready to step in and help, but she does everything right.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five.
I breathe deeply and say a prayer to God. Hopefully, he’s forgiven me for the wedding.
48
Andrea
A few months ago Evie and I did this ice bucket challenge thing.
This is like that, only a billion times worse. Instead of screaming and running off to get warm again, I get cold shocked over and over. My chest is so tight I can barely breathe, and it’s hard to keep my lips together with my teeth chattering.
Pushing off the passenger seat, I clear the open window and then I’m out in the lake. God, it’s cold. Remembering Montana’s instructions, I use the side of the van to guide myself upwards. It does seem lighter in that direction.
Something brushes against my side and every horror movie I’ve ever seen flashes through my head. The brush turns into an encouraging pat on my butt. I’m just going to assume it’s Montana and not some sort of horny underwater monster.
I kick, and the dim glow of the surface comes closer. He was right. We’re not that far under. Once I reach the top of the van, it only takes one good push off its back door before my head breaks through. That first sweet breath of cold air is the best I’ve ever tasted.
“Over here!” a deep voice calls out.
Water and bright light blur my vision. All I see is a silhouette standing on the dock, outlined by a spotlight, and the spinning flash of a police cruiser. Growing up in the mob, the cops have been my bogeymen since I was a kid, but right now everything hurts so much that I don’t care. My skin hurts, my teeth hurt, and even my hair aches. If they have a heater in that car, I’ll love them for life.
Montana pops up beside me, shaking his head to clear the water. “Almost there. You going to make it?” His breathing is coming short and his lips are deep blue. As much as the thought of letting him pull me to safety appeals to me right now, I refuse to be a burden. I can and I will make it.
I nod and reach towards the dock, kicking out with my legs. He stays close, ready to help if he has to, but I carve my way determinedly through the water.
There isn’t even time to figure out how to get up before strong arms reach down to haul us out of the lake. First me, then Montana, who snarls and pushes at the grabbing hands as soon as he’s on the dock.
The cool air pricks my skin like a million tiny needles. I cry out and curl up reflexively.
“Get her a fucking blanket!” Montana barks.
“You aren’t giving the orders here,” a barrel-shaped policeman says, glaring a suspicious look Montana’s way, but only moments later a heavy wool blanket is thrown over my shoulders. Gripping the edges, I pull it tight around me gratefully. Montana gets one of his own, but he pulls me close first so he can wrap it around both of us. And him around me. His warmth against my back is reassuring.
An ambulance pulls up, and the EMTs waste no time getting us into the back and out of the cold. Much as I hate to let go of the blanket, they make me so they can give me a quick checkup. At least the heater’s running full blast in here.
We must be quite a sight, me in my nearly transparent bridal underwear and Montana in his boxers and undershirt, fitting him like lycra. It’s too bad about the dress. I really liked it, but losing it is a small price to pay for not getting dragged to the bottom of the lake by my own clothes.
The EMTs are professional, and while they check up on us, the cops spend more time on their phones than asking us questions. They might not know who we are. Would that be asking for too much?
When we get the signal that it’s okay to cover back up, Montana pulls me closer so we’re sitting thigh to thigh on the bench in the back of the ambulance. He pulls one of the blankets around us, giving us a semblance of modesty again. Even after escaping the freezing lake, his hand on my hip is hot to the touch. He leans his face into my hair. “So fucking glad you’re safe.”
“Me too, but… what happened to Brett and Philmore?” They should’ve come up before we did, but there’s no sign that they have.
“That’s a good question, ma’am, and one we’d like an answer to.” The ambulance shifts as a heavy-set cop climbs in. “I’m Lieutenant Miller. I take it the two of you work for them?”
I nearly laugh. “N—”
“Yes, but we don’t really know them,” Montana interrupts. “We were just here for the wedding and they were going to pay us cash.” I watch in amazement as he looks away guiltily. “Are we in trouble?”
Miller sighs, a flash of sympathy crossing his face. It can’t be that easy, can it? “Don’t suppose you two have any id on you?”
“In our underwear?”
“Right. Alright, we ran the plates on their van. You guys probably don’t know this, but your bosses have at least half a dozen open investigations in three different states for violating food import laws.”
I blink. Somehow that’s both unexpected, yet makes perfect sense. But that doesn’t explain where they are. “They got out of the water though, right?”
“Miss, they’re both ex-special forces. We’re still checking the water, but most likely they’re long gone. I wouldn’t expect your pay anytime soon, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“Oh… Then do you have any spare clothes? Mine are at the bottom of the lake.”
He nods. “Already working on it. We’ll need to get some statements from you two, but then you should be free to go, for now.” Miller leaves us alone, and not long after, an officer brings us two sets of sweats.
“Thanks,” Montana slips out from under the blanket to take them, then snorts when the cop doesn’t make an indication to leave. “You mind?”
The poor guy turns bright red and runs off.
I glance around. “I don’t want to jinx anything, but isn’t this going suspiciously well?”
“Here, let me help.” Montana grabs my blanket, holding it up like a curtain around me so I can change. “I don’t think the cops are here for us,” he says softly. “They probably checked the van after we took off and then figured your cheese guys were afraid of getting caught up in whatever was going on.”
Pretending I’m changing at the beach and not naked surrounded by cops, I peel off my still-wet bra and panties. “I suppose.” I look up to find Montana grinning at me. “What?”
“Tit nipply out.”
“What are you, twelve?” Men! I’m standing here like a drowned rat and he’s enjoying the view. I give him a shove and pull the huge sweatshirt they gave me down over my head. It fits more like a short dress than a shirt.
When I’ve pulled the pants on and rolled up the cuffs, Montana doesn’t bother to wait for me. He drops his pants like he’s all alone and pulls on the sweats without a trace of embarrassment.
I snicker.
He tosses back his wet hair and cocks his head at me. “What?”
I’m mostly amused by the way his sweats look three sizes too small, stopping halfway down his forearms and mid-calf, but I can’t help teasing him. “Must’ve been cold in the water.” I wiggle my finger.
“Oh, and I’m the immature one?” He scoops me into his arms and gives me a sly look. “Are you offering to warm me up?”
“Maybe. It is our wedding night.”
“Alright, kids. I’m sure you’re happy to be alive and all, but fun’s over,” Lieutenant Miller interrupts.
Shit. This is where it all falls apart, isn’t it?
“I need a brief statement.”
Montana and I let out our collective breaths, then tell him—mostly—the truth. Brett and Philmore are caterers that hired me to help with a wedding, and I dragged my boyfriend along.
“Boyfriend?” Miller nods his head at our hands.
“Oh, husband. Sorry. It hasn’t been long.” I stroke the ring with my thumb. It’s going to take a while to get used to.
“I’m still saving up money for the honeymoon. We could’ve used the extra cash.” Montana puts an arm around me.
“Know what you mean.” Miller nods. “The wife and I camped at Lake Geneva. I was twenty and flat broke, but it’s pretty during the summer. You should think about it.”
I make a strangled noise in my throat and nearly stop breathing.
Montana squeezes my hand in warning. “I’ll do that, thanks for the tip.”
“Anyway, I’m in a charitable mood today, so I’ll just forget about hearing anything about you two working under the table. Just keep your noses clean.”
We nod frantically. “Oh yes, officer.”
“Oh, one more thing. I need a name and address in case we need to follow up.”
“Of course.” Montana smoothly takes the paper and fills out information I’ve never seen in my life. He writes my name down as Felicity.
“Okay then.” Miller reads everything over and tucks the paper into his coat. “Ralph! Take the newlyweds home when they get the all-clear, will ya?
49
Andrea
Surprisingly, the address Montana gives the policeman is the same address he put on our statement. Turns out it’s an old, three-story brownstone apartment building, and not something he just made up on the spot.
He leans forwards from the backseat. “Hey, man, can you wait here for a second? My keys are taking a swim and I need to see if the lady downstairs is home. Don’t wanna leave the missus freezing her ass off if we can’t get in.”
The cop nods. “Yeah, sure.”
My new husband runs up the stairs and rings a bell. Why would he give the cops an address that’s connected to him? I don’t get it. Still, a grey-haired woman peeks out of a second floor window and he waves at her, so it seems legit.
