No More Mr. Nice by Roszel Renee

Author:Roszel, Renee [Roszel, Renee]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: DCA, Inc.
Published: 2013-01-31T08:00:00+00:00

8

As Jess struggled toward Moses, coughing and sputtering, she heard a male voice shout, “When I shove you up, grab the opposite side of the boat and swing a leg over.”

She wiped water from her eyes, and squinted. Lucas had reached the rowboat ahead of her. He shouted again. “Larry, get low in the center, and grab Moses’ arm when he comes up over the side.”

Jess began to dog-paddle, watching in confusion. What was Lucas doing out there? Why wasn’t he saving his computer?

He disappeared beneath the surface. After another few seconds she saw a flailing Moses catapulted up and out of the water. He belly flopped over the side of the boat, and immediately swung a leg up and over the gunwale. Larry grabbed Moses by his soggy jacket and hauled him, gagging and spitting, into the bottom of the rowboat.

Before Jess realized he had moved away from the boat, Lucas was beside her, grasping her by the upper arm. “Let’s get you back to shore,” he said, sounding slightly winded. Jess cast one last glance at the boat. Larry, looking wretched and guilt-ridden, was rowing for all he was worth. Moses’ nose was the only part of him visible above the gunwale, for he was slumped backward, exhausted, his head lolling on the seat.

She shifted her attention back to Lucas, and gasped, “You—you jumped in to save Moses?”

He seemed surprised by her question. “Why else?”

“I—I thought you were—uh—saving your computer….”

He scowled. “You have quite an opinion of me, don’t you?”

She opened her mouth, but inhaled more water and choked.

“You okay?” Lucas asked. Though his tone was edged with resentment, she saw a shadow of concern in his eyes.

“I—I’m—” She broke off as more water sloshed into her mouth, bringing on a gut-wrenching fit of coughing.

Lucas began tugging her toward shore, and she felt humiliation clench her stomach. Another failure. Another type A deciding she needed rescuing, deciding she couldn’t manage on her own. “Lu—Lucas,” she spat out between gasps for air. “Please. let go of my arm. I—I’m not drowning….”

He didn’t oblige her at first, accusing, “You’re doing a pretty good imitation of it.”

She was treading water in the world’s heaviest boots, peering at him between strands of water-soaked hair. “Please…” she moaned hoarsely. “Don’t treat me like a child.”

“I’m not trying to dominate or control you, Jess. I’m trying to help.”

“I know, I know. I appreciate it, really,” she wheezed, then added, almost begging, “Please—let go…”

His frown told her of his reluctance, but he finally let go. Without a word, they swam back toward shore. Jess knew he was slowing his pace to match hers, but now it wasn’t quite so obvious she was the less capable of the two.

She knew she was acting irrationally, being so touchy about not wanting his help. Especially after the vow she’d just made to heaven that she would endure any humiliation if Moses’ life was spared. But she’d spent so many years receiving unsolicited “help” from people who thought what

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