Молли Фитц - Kitty Confidential

Wind whipped violently at the waves as Diane dug her nails into my wrist and yanked me toward the nearest pier. But my ankles were still bound too tightly for me to shuffle along. I had to hop along instead, which was especially difficult given the fact my feet had fallen asleep and my brain had gone crazy with fear.

“I did like you before,” Diane muttered when we reached the midpoint of the pier. “It’s going to be much harder killing you than it was to kill Ethel.”

Gee, thanks. She was still going to kill me, but at least she’d feel a little bit bad about it.

“You don’t have to do this,” I said with great difficulty before falling face forward on the old, weathered planks below when one of my hops failed to land properly.

“Stop being dramatic,” Diane hissed in my ear as she put an arm beneath each of mine and pulled me back to a standing position with a series of insulting grunts and groans. “I’d tell you to maybe try a diet, but…” She made a flippant gesture and actually laughed.

“Fat shaming me, really?” I ground out. My legs burned beneath me. The new wounds on my face stung from where my cheek had hit the pier. “I’m sure you’ll feel way less guilty about killing me now.”

Diane said nothing but quickened our pace toward the end of the pier.

I tried to glance back over my shoulder to see if Octo-Cat and Nan had gotten my message to come out and help. Maybe some lone lobsterman would be out checking his traps. Maybe a car would just randomly happen to pass by…

Or maybe no one was coming.

Maybe I was really going to die.

We were less than ten feet from the end of the pier now. The tide was high and the waves crashed so violently that they lapped at the edge, sending ripples over the wood. I was a good swimmer, having been raised near the ocean, but not nearly good enough to escape waves like this when both my hands and feet were tied tightly.

I had one last chance to make it out of this alive, and it was time for me to take it. Drawing in a deep, labored breath before my next hop, I angled myself so that I landed partially on Diane’s foot, knocking us both sideways across the pier.

“Oh, you’re going to pay for that!” she whisper-screamed while clutching her jaw from where it had hit on the firm wood planks. I was banking on her to scream and curse at the top of her lungs, but that didn’t happen. We didn’t both pitch off the side, either.

I glanced around frantically, searching for someone who could save me. Octo-Cat, I begged in my mind. Please, please help me!

Then I realized I was probably dying one way or the other, so I began to scream at the top of my lungs, praying with all my might that someone was near, that someone would reach me in time. “Help! She’s going to kill me!”

All this did was make Diane even angrier and even more determined to kill me quickly. She hobbled back to her feet. “Thanks for making this so easy, Angie,” she growled with animal-like anger in her eyes.

We hadn’t reached the end of the pier, but apparently we were close enough. She kicked me in the ribs again and again, forcing me to the edge.

“No, please stop!” I screamed as loud as I could into the empty night.

Much to my surprise, Diane did pause for a moment, regarding me from above with not the slightest flash of pity in her eyes. “You had the chance to stop this, but you just kept digging into things that were none of your business. This isn’t my fault. It’s yours.”

And with that, she swooped down and pushed me with both hands. It was enough to send me rolling straight off the pier and into the unforgiving ocean below.

I sucked in a deep breath just before I hit the water, just before the darkness of the churning waves pushed me under.

Well, that settled that question. Now I knew…

I was definitely going to die.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Two near-death experiences within one week has got to be some kind of a record. Then again, time was ticking, and I wasn’t sure how much longer I could hold on. No, I probably wouldn’t survive being pulled down into the undertow of Deadman’s Wharf. They called it Deadman’s Wharf for a reason, after all.

And if they ever did manage to find my body, it would be far from the first they’d recovered from this perilous stretch of sea.

Diane would be long gone by then.

I thrashed my arms and legs, but only sunk deeper below the waves. The salt of the ocean water stung all my fresh wounds, blinding me with a fresh onslaught of pain. I held my breath past the point of comfort, even as panic overtook me completely. I knew that the first inhalation of sea water would be the thing that ultimately killed me.

But I also knew I didn’t want to die.

No matter how much the odds were stacked against me, I had to keep fighting to survive. So I continued to thrash and hope against hope as the dark depths drew me deeper and deeper into their embrace.

As my brain began to starve from the lack of oxygen, the pain also started to fall away. My body felt lighter, warmer, almost as if it was rising back toward the surface. More likely, though, was that I had died without noticing the exact moment of my demise, and now God was lifting me to Heaven. I even saw a light shining right in my eyes.

And it hurt.

Which meant…

Was I safe now?

I finally gasped for air, unable to hold my breath for even a second longer. The overwhelming pain surged again. It was truly amazing the human capacity for pain. Somehow, I was still finding new ways to hurt, even in the final moments before my death.

I coughed and sputtered, expelling the mistakenly inhaled water in big bursts. A cold chill overtook my entire body when just seconds ago I’d felt warm and peaceful. Even though it felt as if they were weighted down by heavy blocks, I managed to open my eyes just long enough to notice I wasn’t underwater anymore.

Somebody pulled me up and onto the pier, and somebody else climbed up after. Had he been the one to pull me to the surface?

I didn’t have time to figure out their identities, because everything went dark again as I lost consciousness.

Yes, again.

Yes, that makes three times so far this week.

This was by far the worst, though.

My throat was on fire as I vomited lava onto the ground beside me. At least that’s what it felt like.

Nan’s voice was the first I discerned from the jumble surrounding me. “That’s right, dear. Cough it all out.”

I took her advice and coughed and coughed until it didn’t hurt quite so bad. When I opened my eyes to see who had saved me, I came face to face with a set of amber eyes glinting in the darkness as they regarded me with pity.

No, not pity. Fear.

Octo-Cat’s entire body shook, and I didn’t think it was from the dampness of his fur or the chilliness of the night. “I thought I’d lost you now, too,” he said between panicked kitty breaths.

“I’m okay,” I said, reaching out to pet him. My hand came away soaked, making me wonder if he’d jumped in after me despite his hatred of any water that didn’t come from an Evian bottle.

I continued to stroke him until his labored breathing became gentler and was ultimately drowned out by the beautiful, contented sound of his rumbling purr.

“Diane Fulton,” I ground out, sputtering even still. “Did she get away?”

A familiar pair of strong arms lifted me to a sitting position and wrapped a shiny insulated blanket over my shoulders. “We got her,” the police officer said with a reassuring smile. Seeing as he was just as drenched as I was, I assumed this was the brave man who had jumped in to save me before Deadman’s Wharf could claim me forever.