I blink hard, and the world comes into sharp focus around me.
We’re both soaked, and we’re lying on the river path. Rand goes limp beside me, as though all of his powerful muscles have given out.
I struggle to push myself upright.
“Are you okay?” It’s little more than a pained rasp.
He gathers me up in his arms and holds me to his chest.
“You’re alive,” he murmurs. “You’re alive.”
“What happened?” I croak.
“You fell into the river,” he says shakily. “Someone pushed you.”
I shudder and meet his panicked gaze.
“And you saved me?”
He manages a jerky nod.
“Thank you,” I sigh, all the remaining strength draining out of me.
My worst fear was just realized. I almost drowned.
My entire body starts to shake. Even my teeth are chattering.
He keeps me cradled to his chest as he gets to his feet. “I’ve got you,” he promises. “I’m taking you home.”
I consider protesting that I can walk, but that would be a lie. I’m completely shattered, and it’s all I can do to keep myself from spiraling into childlike sobs.
The memory of Shirley’s fingernails in my skull is so close to the surface.
And the nauseating image of my parents’ bloated bodies. I never actually saw them in death, but I spent too many morbid hours online poring over what happens to drowning victims in the summer after I lost them.
I’m dimly aware that Rand and I get some odd looks as he carries me through town, but his expression is fierce enough that no one stops to question us.
It seems there weren’t any witnesses on the riverside path when I was pushed in; no one called the police.
If Rand hadn’t been there to rescue me, I’d be dead.
I shudder.
I can’t reconcile the stalker who sent me the possessive messages with the one who wrote that disturbing letter. I never thought he’d actually try to kill me.
But I’ve been in more danger than I realized.
I cling to Rand, past caring about appearing weak.
We stop at a Georgian townhouse, and he unlocks the door.
“I thought you were taking me home?” I ask.
“This is my place,” he explains.
We enter the house, both of us dripping dirty river water onto the colorful tiles in the entry hall.
“We need to get cleaned up,” he says. “I have two bathrooms, so we can both shower.”