Cheryl Tardif - Submerged

Marcus climbed into his car. First, he took in a long gulp of air, releasing it slowly. Then he stared out the window at the river, trying to extinguish the images of a terrified boy trapped underwater. Colton had more strength than he knew. And Rebecca? She was a fighter too.

He glanced into the rearview mirror. A face stared back at him.

Jane.

For some reason, he wasn’t surprised to see her, even though the rational side of his brain said it was impossible. He was afraid to turn around, in case she vanished. “Hi, Elf.”

She smiled. “You did it. You saved them.”

His shoulders quivered as he began to sob. “I’m sorry I didn’t save you and Ryan.” He covered his face with his hands.

“I know you are.”

“I can’t handle the accusation in your eyes. Or knowing you feel I failed you both.”

Jane’s expression was filled with love. “Marcus, don’t you know I would never accuse you of that. Look at me.”

He raised his gaze back to the mirror.

“What do you see there?” she asked.

What he saw made his heart lurch. Love, forgiveness, acceptance—they were all there in her eyes.

“I want you back,” he whispered hoarsely. “Both of you. I miss you so much, Jane.”

She looked stunningly beautiful, her hair glistening, her skin flushed with color and… life?

“We miss you too.” She leaned forward, and her cool hand stroked his cheek. “But it’s time for you to move on.”

He kissed her fingertips. “I love you, Jane.”

“I know.”

“I’ll never forget you.”

“I know that too.”

He stared into the mirror, willing her to stay.

“Remember what you always used to tell me after you came home from a really brutal day?” she asked.

He shook his head.

Jane smiled again. “You said, ‘life is for the living.’ And it is. You have a lot to live for. You’re a good man with a good heart. People need you. Especially now.”

“No one needs me.”

“She does. And her kids.”

“Rebecca needs me —another addict in her life? No, I doubt that very much.”

Jane nodded. “She still needs rescuing.”

“What do you mean? She’s safe now.”

“Someone tried to kill Rebecca and her kids. Someone ran her of the road intentionally.” She paused and stared deep into his eyes. “You know what that means.”

Did he?

“Shit!” he said. “They’re going to try again.”

Marcus shoved the car into reverse and spun it around, heading for the road. Thunder cracked nearby, and he felt the earth quiver beneath the car.

Time to get the hell out of here.

A quick look in the mirror convinced him that his passenger was gone. He’d deal with his apparent mental break later. Right now he had to get to the hospital.

As he sped down the rough road, he searched the seat next to him for his phone. Where the hell was it? Last time he had it was when…

I gave it to Colton.

He slapped the steering wheel. “Shit! Shit! Shit! ”

Once reporters picked up the story, whoever wanted her dead would know he’d failed. And Marcus bet ten-to-one the guy would be back to finish the job. Rebecca would need a guard on her door. The kids too. If he hadn’t lost his cell phone, he could’ve called Zur and warned him. But Zur knew the driver had come back. He’d know Rebecca was still in danger.

Wouldn’t he?

In the ambulance, Rebecca turned her head and watched her children sleep.

“They’ll be fine, Mrs. Kingston,” the female paramedic said.

“What’s your name?”

“Gabrielle. Gabbie.” The woman jerked her head toward the other paramedic. “That’s Ashton.”

Rebecca smiled. “You have kids, Gabbie?”

The woman nodded. “One.”

“I almost lost mine tonight.”

“But you didn’t.”

“No.” Thanks to Marcus.

“We’ll be at the hospital in about an hour,” Ashton said. “Try to get some rest.”

“Easier said than done,” she muttered.

Truth was, she was afraid to fall asleep. Afraid this was all a dream and she’d wake up and find herself still trapped underwater in the car. The thought made her muscles compress, and she struggled to take a breath.

Breathe…

Rebecca had no idea how long they’d been driving, but at least now she could feel her feet again. She was also so warm that she had started to sweat, but the paramedics didn’t want her to remove the blanket.

She reached out and touched Colton’s hand. It was warm now. He looked so small and vulnerable with the oxygen mask over his face. Ella too.

“We’re almost there,” Ashton said. “Let us know if you feel any discomfort.”

She nodded. “I’m fine.”

“Are you okay to talk?” Gabbie asked, picking up a clipboard and pen.

“Yes.”

“Detective Zur asked us to take down a quick report while we’re en route to the hospital, providing you’re up to it. Is that okay?”

“Yes.”

“Do you remember anything that you haven’t told the police?”

Rebecca shook her head. “No.”

“And you don’t know anyone who owns a truck like the one that hit you.”

“No.”

“Anyone have a grudge against you? Former friend, coworker… lover, maybe.”

Rebecca blushed. “Not that I know of. And to clarify, I don’t have a former lover. I’ve been with Wesley for years. And only him.”

Gabbie’s brow arched. “You told Detective Zur you were sure your husband had nothing to do with the attempt on your lives, yet medical records show you’ve had a number of injuries that are conclusive with abuse.”

“The detective knows about this. I told him. It’s one of the reasons I’m getting a divorce. The main reason. Yes, he has hurt me in the past, but Wesley is not the kind of person to outright murder someone.”

Gabbie and Ashton exchanged skeptical glances.

“I’m telling you,” Rebecca said, “he would never try to kill me and his children. He loves Ella and Colton.”

“He know you were going away with them?” Ashton asked.

She blinked, trying to remember her conversation with Wesley. Dread washed over her. “Well, no, not exactly. He knew I was going away. The kids were supposed to be with…” Her voice trailed away. No! It couldn’t be Wesley!

Was she in denial? Could Wesley have orchestrated the murder attempt? Was he really that eager to be rid of her?

Gabbie checked her pulse. “Supposed to be where, Mrs. Kingston?”

“With my sister.”

Wesley had known she’d planned to go away and the kids were supposed to stay with Kelly.

“You and your ex fight recently?” Gabbie asked.

“Not really.”

Rebecca thought about the missing money. Wesley was a gambler, an out-of-control, desperate addict.

And desperate people do desperate things.

“What is it, Mrs. Kingston?” Gabbie asked.

“I… he… he needed money. He always… needs money. He… gambles.”

The ambulance hit a pothole, and she was overcome by a fit of coughing. When it subsided, she said, “It’s getting harder… for me… to breathe.”

“We need to give you more oxygen,” Ashton said.

As he set a mask over Rebecca’s nose and mouth, another episode of lightheadedness surged over her. “Don’t… let me… drown.”

The paramedic’s face swam into view. “Her lung’s collapsed.”

“Hold on, Mrs. Kingston,” Gabbie said, her face fading in and out.

More words drifted by. “ Pneumothorax… chest tube… ”