“Nash?” Viktor frowned, bewilderment creasing his face in half. “This is the name you mutter in your sleep, no?”
“I don’t talk in my sleep.”
“You do. About Nash McGovern and your president’s sister.”
Damn. “Whatever. I’m telling you that you need to make it back for that dog. She misses you.”
“How can you tell?”
“Cos she spends most of her time looking out the window, waiting for you to come back. So you need to hold out a little longer, okay?”
Viktor’s eyeballs did something horrendous, but he stayed upright. “Lida is safe?”
“Course she is. But she’swaitingfor you. Don’t make me go back there and tell her you’re dead.”
My dubious pep talk worked for a while. Somehow, we put some miles between us and the murder scene we’d left behind as we stumbled through woods and farmland in my vague idea of what direction would take us home. My home, at least. Who knew where Viktor was headed. I wasn’t entertaining the idea that I’d have to bury him on the way.
Then I fucked up.
Big time.
I forgot about the river. The big, wet, raging bastard that stood between us and the coastal road. Going round added eight miles to our journey.
Going through it was gonna kill us.
I left Viktor on the bank and scouted the fork for the shallowest route. One that wouldn’t sweep us up and propel us out to fuckin’ sea, all the while trying to silence my brother’s grumbly voice in my head, telling me what I already knew. That this was a bad idea.
The worst.
Hypothermia would get us if we didn’t drown. But what choice did we have? We were running out of time.Viktorwas running out of time. If he didn’t get fluids in him soon, it was over for him, and I’d meant what I’d said. Fuck it all to hell, but even if it damn killed us both, I wasn’t facing that dog without him.
Besides, I’d caused enough death for one night, a reality that made my heart pound and my head spin every moment I wasn’t fixated on forcing one foot in front of the other. I needed this motherfucker to live for the sake of my sanity.
With heavy legs, I traversed the riverbank, assessing the flow and our chances of surviving a reckless night swim. The narrowest part was deep and wild. The shallower straits were still high enough to put me off, and twice as fuckin’ wide.
Clearly, God hated me.
I went back to Viktor who happened to be huddled at the narrowest section. “You can swim, right?”
He peered at the black water, teeth chattering in the wind. “I would rather fly without wings.”
“One step at a time.” I stuck my foot in, testing the strength of the current and the temperature. Icy claws hooked into my bones, and I had honestly never hated my fuckin’ life more. “Come on.”
I beckoned Viktor forward. Took hold of his wrist again. He followed me into the water and exhaled a string of Russian curse words that needed no translation.
Feeling his pain, I edged forward, feeling my way as the water crept up my chest and covered my shoulders. The current battered me—batteredus—and a log twatted me in the face.
Unamused, I pushed on, losing my footing, forced into swimming with one arm—the fucked one—while I held on tight to Viktor. For long,freezingminutes, I thought we’d make it, but the current was a cruel beast. It swept us away, and the battle became less about reaching the other side and all about staying afloat.
Despite his exhaustion, Viktor was a strong swimmer. We both were. But Mother Nature had other plans for us. We lost the bank and the dogged calm I’d come to rely on deserted me. Panic set in. The cold seeped into my brain and I lost track of my limbs.
I went under.
Viktor pulled me up. “Stop fighting. Let it take us.”
I barely heard him over the rushing water, and I struggled to compute what he meant. He might’ve wanted to fuckin’ die, but I didn’t.
Logan.