Page 107 of Beautifully Broken Redemption

Cain reached across and pressed a thumb to a lock on the glove box. It popped open, and he slid out a gun. “Just in case.”

The phone rang three times before Walker answered. “Hey, man.”

“I might have an intruder on my property. There’s a vehicle by the lake.”

“You have one of those ridiculous security systems. An alert didn’t go off?”

He had a point with that. I pulled the phone away from my ear and hit the speaker button. “Hold on, I’m checking something.”

Cain pulled to a stop so we could both look at the feed. I rewound until I saw myself on the video. Then I pressed play at two-times the normal speed. Kennedy came and went. And then nothing.

“Hold on. Go back. Play between when Kennedy arrives and leaves again,” Cain said.

I did, this time at a normal speed. That’s when I saw it—a shadow. Someone jumping over the fence and trying to avoid the cameras they likely knew I had. It wasn’t the right shape for an animal. It had to be a person. My blood went cold. “Walker, get officers here now. Someone’s on the property.”

“Don’t do anything stupid. Wait for us to get there—”

I hung up, cutting him off. I hit Anna’s contact and said a silent prayer that she was in the house. It just kept ringing. I looked at Cain. “You try her.” She was pissed at me. Maybe she simply wasn’t answering because she was still mad.

Cain held his phone to his ear for what seemed like forever. “Voicemail.”

A horn sounded again. “We go in the direction of the noise.”

Cain jerked his chin in agreement and headed down the dirt road. It wasn’t used often, so we bumped along it. The beam of light looked as if it were moving. Then it illuminated a car.

Anna’s hatchback.

“Turn on your headlights. That’s Anna’s.”

Cain flicked on his lights. They revealed someone watching as the vehicle sank into the water, but as the light came on, the person whirled. Derek. He took off running.

Cain screeched to a halt, the tires spitting up dirt and gravel. “I’ve got him. You make sure no one was in that car.”

I was already moving, running for the water. Images flashed in front of me. Memories. The water swirling around our windows. Mom screaming. Juliette crying. My dad not saying a word.“Get her out, Mason. Get Juliette out, please.”

I pushed my muscles harder as the hatchback disappeared beneath the surface. I ran into the water and then dove. The lake wasn’t deep, but it was at least twenty feet. And the vehicle was sinking fast.

I kicked harder, water blurring my vision. I caught the edge of the passenger-side window. A partially open window. Anna thrashed against her seat, and my heart seized. Her hand was taped to the door handle.

The hatchback settled on the bottom of the lake, and I grappled with the door, finally getting it open. I tore at the tape but wasn’t having any luck. My lungs burned, and I looked at Anna. She shook her head, pointing up. She wanted me to leave her? Wasn’t going to happen. But I did need more air.

I kicked my way to the surface, sucked in a few deep breaths, and then dove again. It was less than a minute. Sixty seconds. As I swam, I pulled my keys out of my pocket, but when I reached Anna, she wasn’t moving.

I didn’t let myself think about her still body, the water invading her lungs. I sawed at the duct tape with my sharpest key. One layer. Then another. The metal cut into my fingers, but I didn’t think about it. Once the final layer started to give way, I pulled. Bracing my feet against the car, I tugged with every ounce of my fading strength.

It gave way. I hooked my arm around Anna’s body and maneuvered her from the vehicle. I kicked as hard as I could towards the surface. Everything burned, but I only pushed myself harder. As I broke the surface, I sucked in air. The breath hurt, but not nearly as much as not knowing if Anna was okay.

I swam to the lake’s edge and dragged her onto the shore. I collapsed next to her, rolling over to check if she was breathing. Nothing. My hand shook as I felt for a pulse. There was no telltale fluttering against my fingertips.

I got to my knees and tipped Anna’s head back. I centered my hands and began compressions. I counted to thirty and then breathed into her mouth twice. Nothing. I continued the pattern as sirens sounded in the distance.

“Don’t do this to me, Anna.” My voice didn’t even sound like my own. “Breathe.”

Shouts sounded, but I didn’t move from my task.

“Step back, sir. Let us help her.”

But I couldn’t. “She’s not breathing. I have to breathe for her.”

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