Page 4 of The Billionaire's Claim: Redemption
“She can swim, but the sea is awfully rough.” I eye the huge waves pounding against the sand. There’s no way Elizabeth’s crazy enough to swim in that kind of water. “I’m gonna search the beach just in case.” I’m praying she isn’t in the water.
“If you take the beach to your right as you step outside, I’ll take the opposite. It’ll make the search go faster.”
“Thanks.”
I hang up and walk out. The dress shoes I’m wearing aren’t conducive to moving fast across soggy sand, so I toe them off, along with my socks, leaving them propped against her fence.
I start jogging. The gust blows in from my left, and rain hits me hard, some of the water dripping into my ear. Everything around me is hazy from the torrential downpour, and I swear under my breath.
No matter what, Elizabeth
isn’t suicidal or stupid. Maybe she found shelter in one of the stores. Maybe she’s watching the stormy sea from under a palm tree or something. There’s no way she went anywhere close to the water.
“Elizabeth!” I yell. “Elizabeth!”
The stormy wind swallows my words, no matter how loudly I cry. Frustration bubbles in my chest. God damn it. What I wouldn’t give for a better weather than this…
After what feels like an eternity of moving along the beach, I spot a man dragging someone along the sand, maybe some ten yards ahead. The unconscious person is female, her blue wrap dress more or less transparent. Something about her clothes reminds me of Elizabeth’s from Hawaii. I start to run toward the two, just in case. Maybe she did get swept up by the ocean, and the good Samaritan pulled her out.
The other man’s head snaps up, his gaze swiveling in my direction. The visibility’s still poor, but something about him feels vaguely familiar.
He starts hauling her away faster. Fuck. That’s no good Samaritan.
My insides encased in ice, I run as quickly as I can. Wet, soft sand sinks underneath my bare feet, slowing me down. That motherfucker has to be one of her stalkers—maybe even the one who sent her the puppy. I try to get a good look at him, so I can identify him and throw him in jail, where he belongs.
Something green and brown suddenly smacks me in the face, making my eyes tear. Crying out, I stumble backward, then put a hand over my stinging forehead and nose. A palm tree branch rolls on the ground at my feet, then flips away in the wind. Grit and sand get into my eyes, and I rub them roughly with impatience.
When I blink a couple of times to refocus, my vision is way too blurry. Shit. I’ve lost my contacts, and I’m not going to find them.
Fuck this. Identifying the perp is secondary. I need to get Elizabeth away from that psycho.
He drags her behind some large black rocks. Then I see that he’s hidden a sea kayak there. What the hell? He can’t use that in this weather.
Apparently the asshole disagrees. He dumps Elizabeth behind him on the kayak, her body folding weightlessly. He starts maneuvering his paddle, trying to get away. But nothing can best the terrible rage of the stormy sea.
A particularly large and powerful wave arches, barreling down toward the beach.
My heart sticks in my throat as the wave breaks over Elizabeth.
Chapter Three
Dominic
Terror pumps through me, my heart beating like it’s about to explode out of my chest. I sprint toward the rocky beach, adrenaline giving me an extra boost.
The son of a bitch maneuvers his paddle and shifts his weight around, and somehow manages to keep the kayak from capsizing. But Elizabeth’s limp body tilts to the side and slides off into the violently swirling water.
My feet slap against the sharp rocks lining the beach, but I barely register the pain. I hit the water, and the bastard swings his paddle around and bends this way and that to grab Elizabeth, but he can’t move fast enough. And when the next wave slams into him, the kayak capsizes with him in it.
I don’t know how I’m going to make it in such a rough sea. It tosses me, spinning me around like a rag doll, but I press forward toward the unmoving Elizabeth, willing myself to believe she’s still okay. She’ll be okay as long as I can reach her. At least the ocean isn’t sweeping her away. Her dress must’ve got caught in something.
Can’t lose her now.
I propel myself forward, squeezing out every ounce of strength left in me. When my fingers finally grasp the hem of her dress, I almost cry with relief, then pull her closer, making sure her head stays above the water. She’s so cold. Blood flows freely from cuts in her temples and a gash an inch above her hairline. She has scratches all over her face, shoulders, arms and hands.
Holding on to her as tightly as I can, I grip a jagged rock and look around for a way to get back. Although I made it out here due to some divine miracle, I don’t have the strength to reach the shore while carrying Elizabeth’s weight. Around us, the water tosses the capsized kayak, and I keep an eye on it to make sure it doesn’t hit us. There’s no sign of the other guy, and I can’t tell if the bastard managed to escape. I wouldn’t be too broken up about it if that fucker drowned or got lost at sea.
“Elizabeth,” I say, even though I know she can’t hear me. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
