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A muscular arm encircled her waist. No matter what, Caleb was here with her, his presence a tangible force in the darkness. Her protector.
A silver air bubble escaped from the corner of his lips as he took her hand, steering her through the second room, his strength bleeding into her, guiding her, compelling her to keep going. This man had shown her that her life was worth something, that she deserved love even if she had made mistakes. She could choose not to live in the past, and with him at her side, she wasn’t afraid anymore.
She’d spent so long not caring if she lived or died. But now, she wanted to live. She wanted Caleb, and she refused to let Richard steal any more from her. Anger surged through her veins, a fire that melted the ice in her arms and she swam with a renewed sense of purpose, pouring every ounce of her remaining strength into each stroke.
And then, when she had nothing left to give, Caleb yanked her upward, and she burst through, gasping and spluttering, her lungs screaming as they gulped down the sweet, precious oxygen. She clung to Caleb, her arms wrapped around his neck, her face buried in his shoulder as she sobbed with relief.
Stairs led up from where they floated, to where the clamor of the storm was the sweetest sound she’d ever heard.
43
Every muscle in his body burned as Caleb hauled Grace out of the water. Her body pressed against his chest as he dragged her up the last few steps. He sensed her flagging energy, the way she sagged against him, her arm draped limply around the back of his neck.
The savage pitch of the boat made each step a treacherous gamble, sending him crashing against the walls, his shoulders taking the brunt of the impact as he shielded her with his body. Just a little further.
He gritted his teeth against the pain that speared through his limbs. Get her to safety. That’s all that matters.
As they staggered out onto the deck, the bite of fresh air seemed to breathe new life into her. She lifted her head, her eyes meeting his, a brilliant smile spreading across her face despite the rattle of her teeth. “We made it.”
Her head dropped before he could answer, her body wracked by violent shivers.
Fuck.
Fear spiked through his heart. She wore no protective clothing, her thin shirt offering no defense against the biting cold. The risk of hypothermia was high. He had to get her to safety and warmed up before the sea claimed the Far Horizon.
He touched his comms, wincing at the loud hiss as he scanned the sky for a glimpse of the Jayhawk.
“Coast Guard Rescue 1909, this is Swimmer one.” He kept his voice steady over the howl of the wind. “I have the survivor on deck. She’s showing signs of hypothermia. Requesting immediate evacuation. Over.”
His eyes never left the stormy sky as the seconds stretched into an eternity.
Come on, come on.
A burst of static crackled in his ear. “Swimmer one, this is Coast Guard Rescue 1909. We have visual on your location. ETA two minutes. Prepare for extraction. Over.”
“Caleb.” Her voice was a throaty gasp. Grace raised a hand and pointed. A white strobe of light pierced a cloud and the orange form of the Mohawk appeared above them, flashlight flooding the deck.
“Roger that, Coast Guard Rescue 1909. Preparing for extraction. Out.” He ended the transmission, switching his attention immediately back to Grace.
The whoop of the Jayhawk’s rotors filled the air as the helicopter descended, the downwash whipping the waves into a frenzy, the orange rescue basket spinning toward him.
“I’m so tired.” Grace sagged against him, trembling.
“I’ve got you.” He caught her chin between her fingers, held her gaze. “We’re going up together, okay? I’m not leaving you.”
Grace nodded, but her whole body was shaking. She clung to him, her fingers digging into his arm as she battled to stay upright.
Caleb tracked the progress of the spinning basket. His eyes narrowed against horizontal rain as he calculated the best approach. The wind was making it difficult for Henley to control the descent, and the basket twisted in the air like a pendulum gone mad.
“Get ready,” he shouted over the roar of the rotors, locking his grip on Grace. “When I say ‘now,’ we’re going to move. Just follow my lead.”
Grace gave his arm a squeeze. Despite everything, there was still strength in her grip. His woman was a fighter till the last.
The basket was almost upon them now, the orange bright against the gray sky. Caleb tensed, his eyes locked on the twisting target.
“Now!” His voice was a thunderclap above the storm.
He lunged forward, arm outstretched, his fingers closing around the basket edge. The impact sent pain shooting through his shoulder, but he ignored it, too focused on the woman beside him.
