When We Crash (The Souls Duet Book 1) by Cynthia A. Rodriguez

Author:Cynthia A. Rodriguez [Rodriguez, Cynthia A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-02-19T16:00:00+00:00

Wake up! She needs you.

I sat up quickly, my eyes adjusting slowly to the darkness. I was alone in my room. I got up and checked Noa’s room, in case she decided to sleep in there. It was empty. I searched the house and ran into a very sleepy Tracey.

“Dex? What’s going on?”

“I have to find Noa,” I said as I bolted down the steps. I couldn’t find Tim either.

Did he leave?

When I looked in the kitchen, I noticed the liquor cabinet was ajar. A few bottles were open on the counter. “Fuck!”

Not this. I can’t.

I ran outside and looked toward the dock. She was on the edge, standing there while the wind blew at her dress. At some point, she’d removed her hair from its braids, and the free strands flew around her face. Even at this point, on the edge of danger, she looked like a religious being.

Tim stood off to the side, talking to her, it seemed. I could faintly hear him telling her to come back into the house, that it was dangerous. “I’m not mad, I swear,” he said. “We all slip up sometimes.”

“Noa!” I screamed. “Noa!”

She turned quickly toward my voice and lost her balance, hitting her head against the post.

And my angel fell.

At the sound of her hitting the water, I moved.

I ran as fast as I could toward the dock, pushing Tim out of the way when he cried that he couldn’t swim.

I heard Tracey telling Ralph to call nine-one-one just as I crashed into the water. It was too dark. I couldn’t see anything. I surfaced, looking to see if she’d floated. When I saw nothing but smooth surface, I ducked down again, cursing in my head. My lungs were beginning to burn when I saw her white dress. I swam over and pulled her with me, bringing her up to the surface.

“Oh, thank God,” Tracey said as she helped me pull her up the ladder. She laid her gently on the wooden planks and listened for breathing. When she didn’t feel anything, she tilted her head back and performed CPR. Breath after breath, Noa wasn’t coming back. Blood was seeping slowly onto the dock from the back of her head.

“Bring her back, Aunt Tracey.” I grinded my teeth, wanting to scream.

It was my fault. I turned away from her. I should’ve stayed up and helped her. Talked to her. Made her feel loved and secure.

I heard the sirens in the distance, and I felt that pinprick of remembrance. That sound meant death. My own and now…no. I couldn’t lose her.

When the men jumped out of the truck and surrounded Noa, I watched, standing as closely as I could.

“She isn’t breathing. She isn’t breathing,” I repeated when they asked me what happened.

“She was drinking and came out to the dock. She hit her head pretty hard and fell into the water,” Tracey told them.

I nodded, confirming.

“She’s got a pulse. It’s faint but it’s there. We have to get her out of here,” one of the paramedics said.

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