by Ella Miles
“Run!” I yell, telling her with one word that I’m coming, but she has to go now. She has to save our babies, our future. She has to put herself first.
I see the pain, but in a split second, she starts running.
I see the next explosive. If I can dismantle it, I’ll give Kai more time to get to safety. Kai is five feet from the end of the pier. My leg is splitting, and my shoulder throbs, but I push that all out as I crawl to the side and quickly dismantle the next explosive. Giving Kai three to five more seconds to get to safety.
I scramble up to my feet to run after.
Kai’s father is slightly ahead of me.
Beckett is ahead of him.
And Kai is the furthest down the pier, but her breathing is slow and heavy. If she doesn’t move faster, she won’t make it.
I spot the next bomb about to go off. We are all too close to it. This one is going to impact us. But I’m not close enough to stop it.
Kai’s father is. And he gives me one look—a look begging me to take care of his daughter. And then he dives onto the device.
It explodes, knocking me on my ass. I scramble back to my feet quickly. Kai’s father is gone. But he contained the bomb enough that it didn’t obliterate more of the pier.
I spot Beckett scrambling to his feet, while Kai is still knocked on the ground. But she’s moving. She’s alive. Her father just saved her life, by sacrificing his. She hasn’t realized it yet. She just lost another person who loved her. And by the end of this, she might be the only one of us that survives. But her life is all that matters.
Each bomb was placed less than ten feet apart, which means there is one more. We aren’t safe yet.
I run harder as I yell, “Run!” to Kai. She’s barely on her feet, now seven feet from the end, the explosion knocking her back.
Beckett looks from me to Kai, making a split-second decision similar to Kai’s father. He is the only one who can save Kai.
I can’t.
I’m too far away.
He’s close enough to grab her and get her in the water.
I won’t make it. Not unless a miracle happens and the bomb doesn’t go off.
Take care of her, I mouth.
Beckett grits his teeth, but instead of running toward Kai, he runs toward the bomb. He’s going to try the same move that Kai’s father did. Even though he knows how that ended—with his death.
It’s in that moment, that I know Kai is right, Beckett is one of the good guys. He could have run off the end of the pier and gotten into the water. He could have saved himself.
Instead, he’s sacrificing himself to give Kai and I a chance.
I sprint harder, ensuring his sacrifice isn’t in vain.
I reach the end just as Kai jumps. I jump with her, our hands reaching out as we fall into the water. I feel the blow of the bomb, but it’s not as strong as it should be. Beckett got to it in time. The only reason Kai and I are both alive is because of him.
The water welcomes us in, and I know we are safe. I should be relieved we survived it. Instead, my heart throbs for the loss of family. When we surface, we will have to face that loss. Kai lost a father, who in the end, proved that he loved his daughter in the worst possible way and paid the ultimate price to protect her.
I lost a brother, my only chance at family left to show that the blood that runs through the Black family’s veins isn’t evil, but good. I thought Beckett was one of the bad ones. I thought he was as broken as my half-brothers, but he proved to be a knight willing to give his own life so Kai and I could have a chance at a normal life.
The loss is going to hurt. My heart is already bleeding for his sacrifice. I didn’t even know his first name. I didn’t get to tell him he was my brother, even if on some level, he had suspected it himself. Now he’s gone, and I can never repay his sacrifice.
Kai’s hand finds me in the water, and we both start kicking for the surface. All I can do now is to continue to protect the woman he gave everything for.
18
Kai
We crack the surface of the water. And take a deep breath together. We are alive. I don’t fucking know how. Each detonation brought us all one step closer to death, but somehow, we made it to the water.
I know we aren’t completely safe. Felix could have men in the water ready to chase after us. But from those explosions, I don’t think Felix figured any of us would survive.
Enzo immediately grabs me in his arms as we both tread water. His hands run over what he can of my body, checking for injuries. But I don’t feel hurt; I doubt I even have a scratch on me.
“You okay?” he asks, his voice breaking.
“Yes, I’m fine.”
He puts his hands over my stomach. “The babies?”
They both kick, answering for me.
He exhales some of the pain etched on his face. But it doesn’t all dissipate.
“We need to get to the yacht,” he says.
I nod, knowing it’s going to be difficult for me to swim that far this pregnant and exhausted.
Enzo looks torn as he notices parts of the dock floating behind us. He knows I’ll need some help swimming, but he doesn’t want to leave me a single second.
“Go,” I say.
He wants to argue, but he really doesn’t have a choice. He nods, then dives under the water so he can swim as fast as possible toward a piece of the dock I can hold onto while we swim to the yacht.
I take a deep breath looking for signs of Beckett or my father, but I see none. Did the blast send them farther into the ocean? Are they staying afloat somewhere in the wreckage behind me?
I spot Enzo swimming back with what looks like a buoy.
“Here, hold onto this, and I’ll pull you,” he says, pushing the buoy out in front of me.
I grab onto it with my arms, realizing how exhausted I am for the first time as I get some relief.
Enzo starts swimming, and I know he won’t wait for my father or Beckett to catch up.
“Did you see any sign of Beckett or my father?” I ask.
Enzo is silent; he just starts swimming. Did he not hear me?
“Enzo?” I ask, after he swims for a minute without talking to me.
“They didn’t make it,” he says, after another moment passes.
I stop kicking, and the ocean seems to still as I take that in. My father’s gone. Beckett is gone.
“How do you know?” I ask. Maybe Enzo’s wrong. There is a lot of wreckage from those explosions. We can barely see five feet in front of us between the smoke, high waves, and pieces of wreckage we are swimming through.
“Because I saw it happen, both times.”
“How?”
“Your father jumped on one of the explosions, dimming its strength. And Beckett,” his voice breaks. “He jumped on the last one. They saved us. Without their sacrifices, we wouldn’t be here. Or at least, I wouldn’t.”
I break. I’m used to the feeling, but this time it’s different. Before I lost people I was sure I loved. People who knew I loved them. This time I lost two people who I didn’t know for sure where their loyalties lied.
“My father loved me,” I say, my heart thudding softly in my chest. I wasn’t sure before now. But I know it’s true. My uncle was my father in every way that mattered. He fucked up a lot, but in the end, he made it right. He protected me.
“There isn’t any other word to describe what your father did except love. He gave up everything to keep you safe.”
I close my eyes as the tears burn. Enzo continues to swim, pulling me closer to the ship. Later I will fully mourn my father’s death. It will fully hit me, but right now, it doesn’t.
“Why did Beckett save us?” I ask, confused. Sure, I thought he was on our side, but not enough to sacrifice himself to save us. Enzo must have gotten that part wrong.
“Because you were right. He’s a good guy.” Enzo pauses, then corrects himself as he stops swimming. “He was a good guy. And he saw that our love was worth dying for.”
Enzo’s pain is palpable. I can feel it from here, even though I’m not touching him.
“It’s not your fault that Beckett’s dead. It’s not your fault that you never knew he existed. That you never had a chance to grow up as brothers,” I say, but I know the words don’t mean much to him.
He doesn’t say anything as he continues to swim. The smoke has somehow gotten thicker as we swim further out. Enzo dodges pieces of ships and wooden chunks from the pier as we swim.
But a soft groan perks my ears up. “Did you hear that?”
“No.”
But the man moans again, making the sound undeniable.
“We have to help him,” I say as I hear the sound a third time to my left.
“Kai, we can’t. We need to get to the yacht. We can’t have stowaways on the ship. It’s not safe.”
“Just stop, please,” I say, something drawing me to the sound of the man groaning.
Enzo stops, and we start moving left toward the sound of a man dying. Please let us be able to save him. Whoever he is, I need something positive right now after learning of too much death.
The smoke lifts just enough to make out the man, he’s draped over a piece of wood floating in the water. He looks burned and covered in brown splotches of soot. His arm looks battered; I can see the muscles, veins, and arteries. But his eyes open, and my mouth drops. “Beckett?”
Enzo freezes for a just a second, and then he swims hard and fast toward the man clinging to life a few feet away. I want to go to him, but decide it’s better to hold onto the buoy than let go and swim to him.
“It’s Beckett!” Enzo shouts back.
Enzo grabs the piece of wood serving as a life raft and swims furiously back to me.
“We need to get him to the yacht, fast. He’s barely hanging on,” Enzo says.
If it wasn’t for the constant moans, I would think Beckett is already dead.
“I’m going to put him on the buoy with you and then swim as hard as I can to the yacht,” Enzo says.
I nod.
I move to the far edge as Enzo drapes Beckett’s body over the buoy. Then I put my arm over Beckett, to help hold him to the buoy. Enzo starts swimming hard, and I kick as best I can as we swim full-on toward the yacht in the distance.
“Hold on, Beckett. Just a little longer,” I whisper to him over and over. If not for me, then for Enzo. He needs him to live. He can’t have anyone else sacrifice for him. He can’t lose anyone else because they put his life over theirs.
Beckett’s eyes finally open through the swelling and redness.
“We got you, just hold on,” I say.
He blinks but doesn’t say anything. But he’s alive; he’s breathing, that’s all that matters.
I’ve never seen Enzo swim so hard in his life. He looks like a dolphin in the water; nothing will slow him down. Not the waves, muscle fatigue, or exhaustion. Beckett is complete dead weight, and I’m barely kicking. Enzo is doing all of the work. And he’s doing it better than if we were all healthy and swimming along next to him.
Enzo has always been at home in the water, the same as me. But it isn’t until now that I realize just how at home he is. How much the only time the universe is on our side is when we are both on the water.
Enzo kicks it into another gear. He doesn’t look back at us. He doesn’t try to talk to me. He just swims with every ounce of energy he has.
And somehow we make it to the yacht with Beckett still alive. If anything, Beckett seems more alert now than he was before.
Enzo grabs onto the ladder at the back of the yacht. He’s panting hard, exhaling oxygen as he sucks it in.
I realize Enzo is too out of breath to talk.
“You lift Beckett, and I’ll push,” I say.
Enzo nods, grabbing Beckett under the arms, while I use what strength I have to push. Enzo ends up doing most of the work as he pulls Beckett up onto the yacht. I climb up the ladder afterward.
When I hit the deck, the sight scares me a little. Both Enzo and Beckett are spread out on the floor. Both breathing heavily like they just finished a marathon. And I don’t know what to do to help either of them.
“Get…us…out…” Enzo says between heavy pants looking up at me.
Enzo didn’t finish his words, but I know what he wants. For me to get us the hell out of here. We can’t handle an attack right now.
I glance down at Beckett, who is bleeding heavily from somewhere out onto the deck. And Enzo looks more beat up and in pain than I realized in the water. I want to help them. But I can’t help them until I get us away, somewhere safe.
“Go,” Enzo says between more strained breathing.
I close my eyes trying to gather strength to leave, and hoping that when I return, Beckett will still be alive. Because I can’t watch the heartbreak Enzo will go through thinking he wasn’t enough to save Beckett.
I run, even though I’m physically exhausted. I grip my stomach, praying I’m not doing anything to hurt my babies. But all I can remember is my OBGYN saying exercise is good for the babies. So running can’t be bad.
I make it to the bridge, trying my best to not think about the fact that Felix or his men could already be on this ship. This could all be a trap. Another explosion could go off and ring through all of us, destroying all of the work we did to stay alive.
But there is nothing I can do about that. If Felix is here, then we are all dead. But if he is out there, in the water or still in town, then I still have time to do something. I can get us out of here, help us disappear.
I stand, looking at all the controls. I’ve watched Enzo and others drive the yachts we’ve been on before, but why did I never ask to be taught how to work one?
I close my eyes, trying to remember the last image of Enzo driving a yacht. I try to remember his motions.
Press the button to bring the anchor up. It was over on the right. I look to the right, try a button, and hear the anchor going up.
“Okay, I got this,” I say to myself.
Now, I need to turn on the engines. I stare at the panel. It takes me three tries before I get it right.
Power—that one’s easier. I push on the lever. And we are moving.
I exhale, thank god.
I speed up, knowing we need to get as far away from here as fast as possible.
I grip the helm and drive us as far away from land as I can.
I don’t know how much time passes. Ten minutes? Twenty? Thirty?
We aren’t safe. I know that. But it’s the best I can do at the moment. I can no longer see land. And it will take Felix and his men a while to find us. I turn off the engine but decide not to put the anchor down. I hope we continue to float away from the shore, making it harder for Felix to find us.
And then I run back to the men who saved me and my babies’ lives.
They are both sitting up, which I take as a good sign.
Enzo looks at me like I’m his whole world, and he couldn’t function with me gone. Now that I’ve returned, he’s whole again. I smile lightly; I feel the exact same way.
And then I look at Beckett. He looks like he just went through a meat grinder. I don’t see a spot of skin that isn’t burned or marked. His left eye is bulging out of his eye socket swollen and red. And his right arm looks the worst. It must have taken the brunt of the damage from the explosion. It’s bleeding badly as he cradles it against his chest. I can see the muscles and tendons exposed where skin should be. Blood is shooting rapidly from his veins. If we don’t do something, he’s going to bleed to death.
“I should have driven us to a hospital instead of getting lost,” I say, realizing my mistake as I look at Beckett.
“No,” Enzo and Beckett both say at the same time.
“I don’t need a doctor,” Beckett says.
“Well, you can’t keep walking around like that,” I say, but inside I’m thrilled Beckett is at least conscious enough to talk again, although he must be in incredible pain.
“H
e needs surgery,” Enzo says.
My eyes widen, looking at Beckett’s arm. I don’t disagree. But neither Enzo or I can perform a surgery.
“Did you call a doctor to meet us here?” I ask.
Enzo looks at Beckett. “Do you trust me?”
Beckett stares back. “With my life.”
Enzo stands, his energy seeming to return. Then he walks over to Beckett. He kneels down so Beckett can put his better arm around Enzo’s shoulder, and Enzo helps Beckett stand.
“Kai, there should be a medical room on the yacht. Most often it's the first room on the right down the first flight of stairs.”
I nod and disappear down the stairs.
Sure enough, Enzo is right. There is a room set up to handle a medical crisis on board. It looks similar to the room Enzo had set up in his house. I prop the door open so Enzo and Beckett can easily get through, and then I dig through cabinets trying to find all the supplies we will need to help Beckett.
I find gauze, bandages, morphine, needles, and then I see a saw. I hold it in my hand a second, considering, but we can’t do that. I move to put it back in the cabinet.
“We are going to need that,” Beckett says before I can put the saw away.
I swallow hard, not able to imagine using it to remove Beckett’s arm. Even if we were successful in numbing his arm and knocking him unconscious, I don’t think we can amputate it. But I also don’t think we can repair the damage.
So I set the saw on the tray next to the surgery table.
Enzo helps Beckett to the table and remove his shirt. Beckett hisses as he has to lift his mangled arm.
I stare at Beckett’s body, broken and marred. All of my own scars flare at the sight, bringing back all the pain I’ve experienced before. But I’ve never felt anything like his arm.
I know staring at it isn’t helping, but I don’t know what to do.
“We need to deal with your arm first. We don’t want you to bleed out on us,” Enzo says.
Beckett nods.
I tense, trying not to cry. “If he needs blood, I can give him some.” We learned after Enzo needed blood that since I’m O negative, I can give blood to anyone. It doesn’t matter their blood type.
