Page 15 of Bound By Threads
I’m running.
My feet are pounding against the sand as I rush to the edge of the cliff, scanning the water for any signs of them.
It’s dark and deep, and the waves are violent, but I won’t watch someone else die. I can’t.
I strip off my shirt, not caring that the cold air bites at my skin as I dive into the churning water below. The shock of the cold hits me hard, but I force myself to focus.
I scan the water, searching.
Please, please, please.
There.
I dive again, my lungs burning as I fight the current, my eyes fixed on the shadowy figure beneath the surface.
I don’t even think about the risk. I’m just reaching, my hands grasping her as I pull her up, gasping for air as I swim toward the shore, fighting the current that’s desperately trying to pull me back out.
She’s limp in my arms, her body like dead weight. I drag her to the beach, my heart racing. Adrenaline kicks in as I flip her over, praying she’s still alive.
Pressing my cheek against her mouth, I hold my breath as I wait for the warm puff of air against my skin and the rise of her chest. Nothing.
I start chest compressions, desperate to revive the girl. I keep going, pushing the air back into her lungs as I press my lips to hers and blow, hoping, praying it’s not too late for her.
My hands move mechanically, but my mind is screaming.
Please don’t be gone.
I’m soaked and exhausted, and my heart is pounding in my chest, but I don’t stop. Not until I feel her body twitch under my hands, a small, shaky breath pulling in.
Her eyes flicker open, and I’m hit with a rush of relief that I wasn’t prepared for. Brown eyes meet mine, wide with fear.
So much fear.
She coughs, her body expelling the water she inhaled as she curls into herself in my arms. I hold her until she’s done, not wanting to let her go.
I don’t know why she jumped. I don’t know what brought her here, to the edge, to the point of no return. But I’m here now. And I’m not letting her slip away.
“Hey,” I whisper, trying to sound calm like I’m not shaken to my core. “You’re okay. You’re okay now.”
She doesn’t say anything. Just stares at me, her chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. Her brown hair is matted against her face, and she looks small and fragile in my arms.
She shakily lifts her arms, her fingers trembling.“Why did you save me?”she signs.“I wanted to die.”
I freeze. The weight of her words hits me harder than the crash of the waves behind us.
“I’m not letting you die,” I say, my voice firm now, even if I’m still trying to wrap my head around the girl in my arms who’s staring at me with wide, haunted eyes. “You’re safe.”
She shakes her head, pupils blown.“I’m never safe.”She gestures.
“Then I’ll protect you.”
My words linger in the air as silence stretches between us. I want to somehow convince her that everything will be okay and that things will get better. But I don’t know what she’s been through. I don’t know what’s made her feel like she has no way out, like there’s nothing left but to end it all.
She’s trembling in my arms, and I can feel the cold seep into my skin, but it’s nothing compared to the coldness I can sense in her. The weight of her despair wraps around us both, and I can’t shake it.
The fear in her brown eyes — it’s a look I’ve seen before in the eyes of men I’ve served with, people who’ve been pushed to their limit. But she’s not a soldier.
She shouldn’t be carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders.
