Ropes and Revenge (24 page)

Hands tightened on the steering wheel, he pushed the pedal to the floor, roaring over the hill and down the other side. Clint and the Wheelers spun toward him, frozen for a moment in his headlight beams, but they didn’t stay frozen for long.

Jolting into motion, Dirk and Preston ran for their truck, while Clint sprinted in the opposite direction, diving out of the way as John skidded to a stop a few feet from the pond. The car was already half under, but when he swung out of the truck, he could still hear Percy screaming.

“I’m coming Percy, hold on!” he shouted. The Wheelers were already peeling down the road, their massive wheels kicking gravel high into the air, but Clint wasn’t running away anymore. He had turned back and was charging John with his fist raised.

With one last glance over his shoulder to where the car was still visible on the water’s surface, John turned to meet one of the men who had killed his wife, determined to knock him unconscious and get to Percy before it was too late.

“John?” Percy shouted, her breath rushing out and her head spinning as she pushed onto her side, sitting up as much as she could. “John!”

But he didn’t answer and a moment later she heard a loud grunt and Clint shouting something she couldn’t understand. She had no idea what was happening out there, but water was beginning to seep in through the cracks in the trunk and rising quickly. She was already sitting in at least a few inches of cold, foul smelling water.

At this rate she’d be under in five minutes, maybe ten if she were lucky. And if John was out there fighting three men, there were no guarantees he’d be able to help her in time. Or to help her at all. He was a powerful man, but three against one wasn’t good odds. For all she knew, he needed her help as much as she needed his and she didn’t intend to sit here doing nothing while he fought for both of their lives.

Fresh determination steadied her hands as she resumed her search for the release button. She patted every inch of metal near the trunk, forcing herself not to panic as the water continued to pour in and her search proved fruitless. Finally, she had to admit to herself that what she was looking for wasn’t there. Either Clint’s car was too old to have a trunk release button or it was a model not equipped with the safety feature.

Outside, one of the men cried out—she couldn’t tell if it was Clint, John, or one of the other voices she’d heard—but she didn’t let the sound distract her. She turned onto her back, lying down in the water filling the tight space, bracing her hands over her head, against the rear of the trunk. She shoved against the backs of the seats with her sock feet, heart leaping as she felt the plastic bow beneath the pressure. If she could get into the cab, she might be able to roll down a window and escape before the car went under.

She pushed as hard as she could, arm muscles straining as she fought to keep her head from grinding into the metal above her. The plastic continued to bend, but whatever was fixing the seats in place didn’t release. Finally, as the cold, earthworm scented water began to flow across her stomach, Percy pulled her legs into her chest and kicked. She shot her legs out again and again, ignoring the pain as her skull knocked against the other end of the trunk and the bottoms of her shoeless feet began to bruise.

She continued to kick as the water reached her chest, gluing her tee shirt to her skin, refusing to give in to the panic clawing at the back of her mind. This had to work. There was no other way out. She just had to keep applying pressure and be ready to hold her breath when the water got too high. She just had to keep—

A cry of relief burst from her lips as the seat on the left side gave way and her foot punched through into the cab of the car. Quickly, she shifted onto her stomach, crawling through the hole she’d made, spilling head first into the backseat just as the water reached the middle of the windows. She reached for the crank knob—grateful the car was old enough not to have electric windows that might have short-circuited in the water—but hesitated before she began to wheel it open.

If she lowered the window, the water was going to start coming in faster and she might not be able to force her way out through the pressure. She would have to hold her breath until the vehicle was completely under before she’d be able to get out, and she didn’t know if she could make it that long. Panic had made her short of breath and she’d never been a strong swimmer.

And having your hands tied together isn’t going to make it any easier.

She glanced over her shoulder, saw that the back of the trunk was still above water, and made a split second call. She lunged into the front seat, her numb hands fumbling beneath the water for the trunk release, sobbing with relief as it gave easily under her hand and the trunk
thunked
open behind her. In seconds, she was wiggling back through the open seat, into the trunk, and shoving out of her prison.

Just as the car sank deeper into the water, she leapt toward shore, catching a glimpse of John punching Clint and the other man falling to the ground before her head went under and she discovered how hard it was going to be to swim without the use of her arms.

“Stay down!” John shouted, ignoring the blood filling his mouth as he punched Clint across the face even harder than he had before. The other man went flying, only to bounce to his feet and come rushing back for more.

This wasn’t an evenly matched fight—Clint was fast, but John was faster and had four inches and a couple dozen pounds of pure muscle on the older man. Clint had landed the first blow, bloodying John’s lip, but John had landed the second, third, fourth, and fifth. He’d knocked the bartender off his feet three times, but he kept getting up again. Clint kept coming, giving him no chance to turn and check on the car, let alone get to Percy.

So this time, when his fist connected with the side of Clint’s face and he started to fall, John followed him to the ground. He dropped down, driving his elbow into the center of the bartender’s chest, letting the weight of his body knock the wind out of the other man. Clint gasped, but still managed to aim a punch at John’s head. John deflected the blow with his other arm before pulling back and hitting the side of Clint’s head harder than he’d hit anything in his life, his fist connecting with bone with a sickening thud.

Finally, the fight went out of the other man and he lay still on the ground, his eyes rolling as he lost consciousness.

John staggered to his feet and spun toward the pond. The car was almost completely under, but the trunk was open. Percy must have gotten out, but there was no sign of her. Panicked, John reached for his boots, tugging them off, praying he’d be able to spot her beneath the murky water.

He was running down the shallow bank when he saw bubbles rising to the surface not far from the car and dove, aiming his body for what he prayed was Percy, still alive.

Percy tried to push off the bottom of the pond and rise up to sip air from the surface, but the water was too deep. She pushed and kicked, her flannel pajama pants clinging heavily to her legs, but without her arms, she couldn’t reach the surface.

Don’t give up. Don’t you dare give up!

She ignored the burning in her chest as her lungs begged for breath and tried again, pushing hard enough that the pressure in her ears abated and her heart leapt with hope. She scissor kicked, bobbing close enough to the top that she could see the moon wavering in the sky, high above the water.

But before she could break the surface, her body began to sink again, to sink and to take the last of her hope down to the depths along with it.

This was it. The end. Death was here and she had no more energy left to fight him.

Her thoughts electrified with grief and regret, she squeezed her eyes shut and let go, sending her final breath bubbling toward the surface.

Immediately, her body demanded that she inhale, but she fought the instinct for as long as she could. She hoped she would pass out before she pulled the first rush of water into her lungs. She hoped it would be quick and that her spirit wouldn’t linger near this spot to see John’s face when her lifeless body was eventually dredged from the bottom.

She was thinking of him, of the way he’d kissed her neck while she’d flipped pancakes on Friday morning, determined to die with a beautiful memory in her heart, when something tangled in her hair, jerking hard.

A moment later, a strong arm wrapped around her waist and she was soaring back toward the life she’d nearly left behind.

John kicked hard, pulling Percy up with him.

When they broke the surface, her desperate gasp for air was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard.

“Thank God,” he said, treading water, holding her up while she sucked in breath after searing breath. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you. It’s going to be okay.”

She started to say something, but her words became a hacking cough halfway through.

“Just relax and lay back against me while I take you in,” he said, looping one arm beneath her armpits as he pulled toward shore with the other. “You’ll be able to stand soon. It’s only deep in the middle.”

“Are you okay?” she asked, her words ending in another cough. “Is Clint—”

“Clint’s unconscious,” John said. “And I’m hoping he’ll stay that way until we can get to the police station.” He reached the shallow water near the shore and stood, pulling Percy into his arms and holding her tight for a moment before he reached for her bound hands. “I don’t ever want to let you go, but we should get out of here.”

Percy nodded, shivering as she shifted to make it easier for him to reach the knots beneath her wrists. “There were other men. At least two that I heard talking.”

“The Wheeler brothers,” he confirmed. “They drove off as soon as they saw me coming, but they might decide to come back. Either way, the sooner we’re off their property, the better.”

“Clint killed Lily,” Percy said, wincing as he tugged the rope away from her raw skin. “And other women, I’m not sure how many. I—”

“Let’s not talk about it here,” John said, putting his arm around her waist and helping her through the water. “I want you safe first.”

“I’m so glad you’re all right. I was so worried.” Percy stumbled and would have fallen, but John scooped her into his arms, carrying her out of the pond and up onto the shore.

“Only you would be worried about other people at a time like this,” John said, hugging her closer as he hurried around Clint’s unconscious form and headed toward the truck.

He wasn’t sure the other man was still breathing, but he couldn’t think about that now. All he could focus on was getting away from this place where he’d almost lost Percy and from the man who had nearly taken his love away a second time.

There would be time to talk about how Percy had known Clint was the killer later. And he would tell her about the voice in his head, too. About the certainty that he had to follow the car speeding away down Yasmin’s street or regret it forever. He would tell her that he was pretty sure it had been Lily’s spirit he’d heard and that he considered that a pretty convincing argument that his wife wanted him to keep falling in love with Percy, to finish climbing out of the darkness and into the light.

But a part of him had known that all along.

It hadn’t been Lily keeping him stuck at the bottom of a well of grief; it had been his own damned stubbornness. But he was done being stubborn, finished fighting for anything but the chance to show Percy how much he loved her.

As soon as they were both in the relative safety of the truck with their seatbelts on, he reached over to take her hand. “Don’t leave. I love you. I love you so much.”

“I love you, too.” Percy’s eyes began to shine, but a smile trembled at the edges of her lips. “But let’s talk later. When we’re not soaking wet and scared to death.”

“We’ll be back in town before you know it,” he said, starting the truck and guiding it back onto the road.

She was right, they weren’t out of danger yet. The Wheelers had helped pushed the car into the pond. Once they realized Clint hadn’t succeeded in covering up what they’d done, they might decide to take matters into their own hands and try to silence John and Percy themselves.

The thought was barely through his head when he turned the corner on the gravel road to find the Wheeler brothers’ massive truck blocking the gate and Preston standing in front of it holding a shotgun aimed right at them.

Percy saw the man with the gun the same moment John did—she could hear it in his swiftly indrawn breath, feel it in the way his foot suddenly eased off the pedal only to crash back down again as he jerked the steering wheel to the left, taking them out of harm’s way seconds before the gun went off.

But she saw something else that John couldn’t.

She didn’t know if it was the fact that she’d had Death drawing her into his arms only a few minutes ago, or if the trauma of the evening had enhanced her natural abilities the way it occasionally had in the past, but for a moment she saw the air ripple around the man with the wild brown hair and something filmy, blue, and fading press into his side and disappear. A second later, his eyes went wide and the gun fell from his hands, falling uselessly to the ground as the truck bounced hard across the uneven earth on the side of the road.

John circled safely around the vehicle blocking their path before skidding back onto the gravel and gunning for the gate a hundred feet away.