by Reina Torres
The pain in her lower back increased and she realized that someone had their boot pressed down against her spine.
Someone, she didn’t know who, grabbed her key ring off her belt and she tried to take it back.
It might have been a stupid choice, but she was trying to hold onto control of something. And her keys meant she had a way out.
She lost the keys, but grabbed a leg and managed to topple someone, knocking them down to the ground in front of her. She wanted to keep hold of one person. Just one.
“Fuck! She’s got me! Get her off… get her off-” He’d gotten a leg free from her arms and planted his boot in her face.
She lost her hold on the one leg she had left and tried to get up, at least onto her knees. Blyss knew if she was going to have a chance-
Another shot split the air and she lost the ability to breathe. All she could feel was pain radiating through her back. That only intensified when they picked her up by her arms.
She cried out, feeling like they were splitting her down the center of her back. “Please, stop… please.”
Somewhere behind her, she heard one of the girls trying to get them to stop, but they didn’t. They dragged her down to the water’s edge by the river and she had a moment to realize what they were about to do.
She didn’t know if she was bleeding, but she was damn sure she’d cracked a rib or two.
And a moment later she was thrown into the river and her head went under.
Chapter 8
Owen was having second thoughts about this lunch thing. Blyss hadn’t seemed too excited about seeing him, or maybe it was just that she was embarrassed by what had happened between them on the night of the party.
Still, he’d told her it was okay. It was fine.
And so, he’d better act like it.
Pulling into the diner, he was lucky to find a spot up front. Getting out, he saw a familiar face inside. He focused his attention on the pickup window. If he was lucky, he wouldn’t pick up a hitchhiker.
But luck wasn’t on his side.
As he was paying for his pick-up order, he felt someone come up at his shoulder.
“You’re that nuisance guy.”
The cashier looked between the two of them as if she was worried something was about to start up.
“You do the thing with the alligators.”
The cashier was fighting off a chuckle.
“You know Blyss.”
That got Owen’s attention. Turning so his hip was against the counter, he met the Warden’s gaze. “You’re Soffer.”
Hearing his name made the other man lean back a little. “How did you know?”
Owen liked the look on his face. Caution and curiosity.
He still had to wait for the food, so he had a little time to get under the other man’s skin.
“I know, because I pay attention to anyone around Blyss.”
That surprised him.
“You work with her a lot?”
Owen saw the open interest in the man’s eyes and didn’t like it one bit. “Not as much as I’d like to,” he explained, “but I know who you are.”
Lifting his chin, the Game Warden looked down his nose at Owen. If he hadn’t been leaning on the counter, the interloper wouldn’t have been able to manage it. Still, there was no cause for Owen to worry. He didn’t expect any trouble from the man in the diner.
“Well, I think I should let you know that I’m planning to ask Blyss out.”
Owen shrugged. “Go ahead.”
That reaction earned him a narrowed stare. “Really? You don’t mind?”
Owen smiled and the man actually took a step back. A long time ago, his papa told him that when he smiled like that, he looked more gator than man and by Soffer’s expression, he’d seen the likeness.
“Oh, I mind.” His back teeth ground together. “But Blyss is a full-grown woman. If she wants to test drive a lesser model, that’s up to her.”
The other man gaped at him.
Owen shrugged. “I call them like I see them, Soffer. Just be warned-”
The man snorted. “Warned?”
Owen waited until Soffer quieted before he continued to talk. “That I take her safety and happiness seriously. You can ask her anything you like, but it’s up to her to accept. If I find out you’ve gone beyond her wishes, touched a shoulder or a hand without express permission, I will take you apart.”
Again, Soffer snorted out a laugh, but it wasn’t as loud as it had been before. And the look in his eyes was a good sight more wary.
“You think you’re going to come at me?” Soffer looked down at Owen’s waist and then back up into his face. “You don’t carry a gun, I do.”
Owen felt anger flooding his veins.
The cashier was waiting. He could see her in his peripheral vision. He wasn’t going to make her wait any more than he was going to wait to see Blyss for lunch.
But he had one thing to let the other man know.
“I may not carry a gun with me at all times, but there’s something you should know.” He nailed Soffer with a look and saw the man’s eyes flinch away for a moment. “I carry a knife with me, but even if I didn’t, I could put you down half a dozen ways that don’t involve a weapon. Keep that in mind when you’re thinking about Blyss. I only need my bare hands to kill you.”
Turning slightly, he took the paper bag that the cashier held out to him and thanked her with a smile and a nod. As he turned away, he saw her fan her face.
And as he passed Soffer, he saw the man back up to keep Owen in his sight.
That was just what Owen wanted, to put the man on notice.
He was going to find Blyss and give her every reason to turn down that idiot if Soffer ever asked her out again.
There are those moments in your life which fall under the shoulda, coulda, woulda flag. Blyss knew she was in trouble. She could move her arms, but she couldn’t seem to lift her shoulders without excruciating pain. Turning on her side and then on her back helped her to rise up in the water.
Arching her back lifted her high enough to take a breath, but then she couldn’t keep it up, not with pain lancing through her back. Even the act of taking a breath sent white hot pain through her back.
She wanted to cry. She wanted to scream, but she’d need more than a gasp or two of air to accomplish that much.
Survival.
That’s what mattered most. Survival.
Kicking, she could do that, and taking a moment to feel the current of the water she realized that she wasn’t moving along all that fast. Okay. The brush she could see over her head and off to the side told her that she was closer to the far side of the river than the side she’d gone in from.
A half-baked frog kick moved her even closer and the long grasses on the side of the riverbank cast some shadows over her face.
Relief.
The shade helped her see. Instead of the blinding sun, she could get her bearings better. Water coursed over her face and she breathed it in. The sudden influx of water choked her and she twisted in the water trying to expel what she’d pulled into her lungs.
Pain blurred what was left of her vision. Tears and the water from the river made it near impossible to see.
And for a long heartbreaking moment, she started to believe that she was going to go under and stay there.
Owen pulled his truck over to the side of the road. The app on his phone showed him right on top of the pin that Blyss had dropped and sent over to him earlier. Dropping down from his truck onto the dirt, he looked around. Wheel tracks were visible on the other side of the opening in the road. It looked like the size and width of her SUV.
A quick glance through the opening showed him the area was empty. The picnic tables were also empty and he couldn’t see anyone in the area.
Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out his phone and opened his text messages.
Blyss said she’d call him before she left.
No missed calls.
; No text messages.
Something in his middle felt like a rock twisting in his gut.
Fuck.
“Blyss?”
He let his voice disappear into the air. Locking his truck, he moved forward into the picnic area. “Blyss?”
There was a strange matted area of grass beside one of the tables. The shape and depth of the space made his heart kick against his ribs. It looked like a scuffle.
Dialing her phone, he nearly jumped out of his skin when the song Blue Bayou split the silence. Dropping down to his knees he saw her phone in the deep grass around the cement foot of the table. He snatched it up and swore. The screen was damaged as if someone had taken a bat to it or a heavy boot. Touching the power button, the screen stayed completely dark.
He ended the call on his phone and dialed Conor.
His friend hadn’t even gotten a whole greeting out when he interrupted him, spitting out words that he’d never imagined he’d have to say.
Blyss.
Missing.
Phone.
Scuffle.
Fuck.
Send help.
Now.
He forwarded the pin to Conor and ran back to his truck.
Picking up two flotation devices and a coil of rope, he headed back into the picnic area. Leaving Blyss’ phone on the table, he scoured the ground and saw some deep scuff marks near the top of the dirt path down to the water.
He just knew she was down there.
Someone had messed with her.
But he was going to find her and bring her back safely.
Skirting down the outside of the earthen path, he could almost see the footprints of two people with large boots carrying something. He could see where they’d dug their heels in to keep their balance as they worked their way down to the water.
Once he got down to the water’s edge, he turned his gaze up the dirt path and saw the boots walking up on the balls of their feet, much lighter than when they went down.
Strapping on his PFD, he velcro’d the other vest to the side of his and slipped the rope coil over his head and one arm to have it angled across his chest.
Standing at the water’s edge, he turned his head downriver and narrowed his eyes to look down the sides. “Blyss?”
All he could hear was the soft swish of water as it loped along before him.
Wading in, he prepared himself for the drop off, but he knew it wasn’t going to be easy. A few feet forward, the ground disappeared under his feet. He went under and popped back up fast enough. Letting the water carry him he tried to move back and forth from one side toward the other hoping that Blyss had found a place to grab on and keep her head above water.
“I’m coming, baby. Hold on.”
When it came down to it, her hair was what saved her.
The Kevlar vest she had on got hung up on a branch or something. The problem with that was that the something was under the surface of the water.
She had to twist and turn at first to keep her mouth close enough to the surface so that she could gasp in a breath when she could, but it was her vest that kept her down.
The pain in her ribs wasn’t getting any better, only worse, and she was tiring. Fighting for air was starting to become a losing battle, and frustrating.
It felt like the river hiccupped, the current under her feet rushing up and lifting her higher than she had been in a while. Tossing her head back, she took a greedy breath of air and that’s when it happened.
Her hair caught on something, thankfully above the water, and with a giddy sigh Blyss said a silent prayer that whatever had gone into the water upstream wasn’t something that was going to take a bite out of her.
Her luck was already circling the drain, The last thing she needed was to see an alligator staring back at her.
She was caught but good, and had no idea how she would free herself given that the pain in her back was only getting worse from the exertion.
At least she had air in her lungs.
The only problem was, if she called out and someone actually heard her, would they help her or hurt her like the others had.
Closing her eyes, she said a little prayer, hoping beyond hope that there was someone near enough to help her.
Fanciful. That’s what she called the urge that bubbled up inside of her. Hell, she was probably due for some hypoxia if her luck kept going the way it did. What harm would it be to just shout out and hope that her guardian angel was hovering nearby?
“Help!”
A moment later she heard the most beautiful sound.
“Blyss?”
Yep, she was hearing things. Losing her mind. Going completely nuts.
“Blyss! Where are you?”
It was real. He was real.
“Owen?”
“That’s right, it’s me. Where are you? Keep calling out!”
“I’m hung up on something. I can’t see you. I can’t see you!”
Oh God, she was crying. Sure, it could be because she hurt all over and the branches were close to tearing out her hair from her scalp, but really, it was relief.
And if it was just a hallucination or a daydream, it was better than nothing.
“Keep calling out! I can’t see where you are!”
They went back and forth like that for a few precious minutes until she heard him calling to her. “I see you. Hold still! I’m coming!”
And just at that moment she also heard sirens. Emergency vehicles.
And she just kept crying.
Or it was the water washing over her face.
She didn’t care. When Owen got her loose, she was fixing to sob all over him.
“Hey, hey, hold still.”
The instant she felt his hand on her shoulder a shudder rolled through her body.
“Oh God, Blyss. You never looked so good.”
“HA!” She groaned, fighting the pain lancing through her back. “Careful, my ribs.”
He stilled beside her, if that was even possible in the water. “What about your ribs?”
“My vest.” She bit her lip as she felt him touch his hand to her back. “I think someone shot me.”
As he gently probed her vest, he swore a colorful streak under his breath.
“I can’t,” she grunted, “understand you when you swear in French.”
He growled when he pressed against a tender spot on her back.
“You don’t want to know what I’m saying. I just need to figure out how to get you out of the water.”
Together they worked to free her, and she didn’t even try to argue when he told her he’d have to cut some of her hair.
“Do it, Owen. Just get me out of this water. I just want to get out of the water.”
He leaned forward and caught her eye. “I’m going to get you out of the water, Blyss. And then I’m not going to let you out of my sight for a long, long, time.”
“I… I would be okay with that.”
There wasn’t a need for pretense. Not between them.
Not when she had been so close to giving up.
Not when he was so close.
When Conor walked out of Blyss’ hospital room, Owen looked up with his dark, watchful gaze. “You get what you needed from her?”
Conor’s look was a mix of rage and worry. “I got something. Descriptions. And the story of what happened. I’m fit to beat someone into the ground.”
“Get in line. When I figure out who’s responsible, Conor, I’m going to expect you to turn a blind eye to what I’m going to do.”
Shaking his head, Conor’s anger bled off a little. “You know she won’t agree to that.”
“She won’t know a damn thing about it, Conor. You can’t expect me to let the people who did this keep breathing the same air as she’s breathing.
“As she almost didn’t breathe.”
The realization hit him like a sucker punch to the gut and his knees weakened. Leaning over, bracing his hands on his knees, Owen struggled to hold himself together.<
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“Hey,” Conor set a hand on his shoulder, “you found her, man. You got to her in time. She’s okay because you did what you had to.”
Owen stood back up and stared at the ceiling tiles. “That’s why I’m telling you now. I’m going to keep doing what I have to, Conor. If I find out who tried to kill her, there’s nothing that’s going to stop me. Don’t even try.”
He saw the worry in the other man’s eyes. “It’s not going to make it any better. Not really.”
“You didn’t see the fear in her eyes. You didn’t hear the desperation in her voice. I don’t think I’m ever going to be able to forget it.”
Conor remained silent for a long moment before speaking again. “I don’t know if you ever heard about what happened to Erin before we were married,” he began. “She went through hell because of someone else. Someone who wanted to take her life. Take her from me.”
“And you killed him?”
Conor bit into his lip and shook his head. “No, but he’s dead. He’ll never hurt her or anyone else ever again.”
“That’s all I aim for too.” Owen held up his hand before Conor could argue. “Look, my first priority is to make sure the doctor gets her on the mend and then I’m taking her home.”
Owen didn’t miss the curious look on the other man’s face.
“My home. She’s going to need someone to take care of her, and I’m going to do that.”
Conor’s mouth quirked up at the corner. “Did you run that past her yet?”
Owen pushed away from the wall and stared at him, daring him to argue. “She’s not going to be able to do things for herself for a couple of weeks if the doctor’s right and she has a cracked rib. Even if it’s only bruised, she’s still going to need help with things she can’t do for herself.”
“And you think she’s going to let you do those things, like dressing her?”
Owen didn’t bother telling Conor that he wasn’t above keeping her naked the whole time if it made things easier for her.
Blyss could be single minded when she was in a mood, but so could he.
And if her doctor said that she had to be in bubble wrap until her ribs were healed, well, he’d enjoy wrapping her up like a plastic burrito and watching her like a hawk.
