Blind Obsession (41 page)

He didn’t know if he was imagining it, but it seemed like the current had picked up. Chantel was exactly where he had left her, but he knew he was right about the current because her dress was now shifting much more with the water that was streaming all around her.

When he got closer, he called her name again, feeling that the water was now to his waist. It had definitely risen in the last thirty minutes. All of a sudden, that slither of fear started to slide back in.

“Chantel!” he called more frantic than only seconds before.

This time, she turned her head toward him just as he reached her. She smiled, and he felt the weight lift from his heart as she moved to raise herself. That was when she faltered slightly.

The expression on her face shifted, turning to one of confusion. “Phillipe?” she questioned.

Moving quickly, he made it to her side and reached out to grip her shoulder, trying to help her get upright. He watched as she seemed to be pulling on her foot, straining to move it. She attempted to place her other foot on the bottom to stand herself up, but she failed. The water sloshed around her. As her foot was swept up, she was thrown on her back again.

What the hell is going on?
He felt his heart start to pound in time with the speed of the now rapidly falling rain.

“Phillipe?” she called again.

This time, he could tell she was starting to panic.

Not knowing what to do, he moved around to where her head was resting above the water. As she continued to float, he reached out to grip her head with his hands.

“I’m right here.” He tried to reassure her as he looked around them. He was feeling anything but calm.

“My foot…the boulder. I don’t understand what happened.”

He looked down her body where her arms were lying beside her. Her one leg was floating, and the other was now fully submerged as the water still moved all around them.

“Stuck,” he told her, not believing the words coming out of his mouth. “You’re stuck.”

Feeling the rain hitting him on the back of his neck, he was shocked when she opened her mouth and smiled.

“It’s raining.”

He knew that she didn’t understand yet. She hadn’t put it all together the way he had, but as she lay there, letting the rain water hit her face, he couldn’t bring himself to say anything.

“Can you float here for a minute, Beauty? I want to see if I can get your leg free,” he whispered, hoping he sounded a hell of a lot calmer than he felt.

“Yes,” she responded. Almost as though it was an afterthought, she added, “I can’t touch the bottom anymore.”

He tried to control his shaking voice. “I know. Let me check out your leg, okay?”

“Okay.”

Moving to where her leg was pulling down under the water, he told himself it was as simple as getting down there and getting her free. As he looked over to where her head lay half in the water with the rain falling down around her, he closed his eyes and sent out a prayer, hoping that he would be able to fix it whatever he found beneath the surface.

When he opened his eyes, he took a deep breath and dove under the water. With the clouds covering the sun and the rain hitting the surface, seeing what he was looking for was a difficult fucking task. Finally, he zeroed in on the problem.

Her foot and dress was wedged between not one but two boulders under the surface.
Fuck! This is not fucking good
. Swimming over to it, he grabbed the material and yanked it hard, feeling her also try and pull at it from above. The fucker wouldn’t budge.
Fuck!

Feeling his breath leaving him, he pushed himself from the bottom back up to the surface. When his head broke free, he took a gasping gulp of air and watched as she craned her head up toward him.

“Still stuck?” she asked softly.

Moving quickly up to the side of her head, he tried to calm his breathing as the rain now beat down on them. Reaching out, he stroked his hand over her hair, pushing the hopeless words from his mouth. “Yes, you’re still stuck.”

“It’s raining harder, Phillipe.”

This time, he knew that she realized what was going on.

“Yeah, it fucking is.” His voice cracked over the admission. He took a moment and reminded himself that panicking would not do either of them any good. “I’m going to try again in just a second. We’ll get you free. Don’t worry,” he said, trying to convince her as well as himself.

She nodded, but he could tell her mind was starting to wonder.

“The water…it’s getting faster,” she stated almost factually.

Biting his lip to keep in the curse he wanted to scream, he instead agreed. “Yes, it’s getting faster.” Before she could say anything else, he told her, “Now, you just keep floating, okay? I’m going to go back down and try again. We’ll get this.” He moved to her feet and reaffirmed his vow. “I will fucking get this.”

Chantel didn’t answer, but as he looked back to where she lay, she closed her eyes to the rain falling steadily down upon them. Quickly, he dove back down and took a hold of her calf. Pulling as hard as his body would let him, he tried to make her foot shift just a little, but nothing happened. His lungs were burning, her foot was still stuck, and nothing had changed. Absolutely fucking nothing changed.

As soon as he surfaced, on a rushed and ragged breath, he said, “I need to go and get help.”

He didn’t have a clue who he’d get. Penelope wasn’t physically able, and anyone else was several miles away.

“No!” she cried out. As her voice cracked, she reached out a hand. “No, don’t leave me here.”

Wading up to her head, he took her cool hands. “I can’t get you free on my own, Chantel. I
need
to go and get help.”

“I’m scared, Phillipe. I don’t want to be here alone.”

Her voice trembled, and he felt as though someone had impaled him with a hot poker.

“Don’t leave me here.”

That was when he made a decision. He made a promise that he knew would destroy them. “Okay. I won’t leave.”

“Promise?” she demanded quickly, her voice shaking.

He stroked unsteady fingers down her cheek, and he gripped her hand tightly. “I promise.”

The sun had finally been replaced by the moon, and as the rain continued to fall on them, he moved around to where Chantel’s head was. Placing his hands beneath the water, he lifted her up so that her head was free of the now rapid current moving quicker with every passing minute. He could feel the water creeping up his body while it lapped above his waist as it covered her entire lower half.

“Phillipe?” she whispered softly.

Looking down, he could see her eyes were open, staring up at him. Battling his tears, he squeezed her head gently as he stood there completely helpless to do anything.

“Yes?” he managed to ask.

“Talk to me,” she requested.

Biting his bottom lip he tipped his head back, feeling the rain fall onto his face.
How can I possibly talk to her? What am I supposed to say?
She was stuck to the bottom of a river that was fucking rising, and he couldn’t do a damn thing about it. A river he had brought her to! A river he had put her in.
I am killing her.

“Phillipe?” she murmured again. “What are you thinking?”

Feeling an uncontrollable sob tear from him, he confessed, “I’m thinking that I should never have brought you here.”

She reached back and grasped one of his hands holding her head. She was miraculous. Even in a situation like this, she was comforting him.

“No, don’t do that,” she told him firmly.

He leaned down and pressed an upside-down kiss to her lips. They were cool from her body now having been in the water for so long. As he felt her mouth part softly beneath his own, his tears fell, joining the moisture already on her cheeks.

“I’m cold,” she whispered against his mouth.

Sucking back an anguished sob he straightened his body.

“I know, Beauty,” he acknowledged. “I’m so sorry. God, am I sorry.”

He felt a shiver rack her body as her eyes closed.

“Shhh, don’t do that,” she told him.

The rain continued, and the river rose. There was absolutely nothing he could do but hold her and try to calm her. He was fucking useless.

“Don’t do what?” he asked as clearly as he could.

“Don’t be sorry. You didn’t do anything.”

He shook his head at the absurdity of that. “I brought you here. I put you in this fucking river, Chantel. Let my guilt take place. Trust me, I deserve it.”

Her small teeth—teeth that had once bitten down on him in moments of pleasure—now bit down on her bottom lip to keep from trembling and crying.

“Guilty? What are you guilty of?”

“
Everything,” he confessed as he stroked a hand down her cheek.

“
Do you see the lights over there?” she asked.

Closing his eyes, he blocked out what she was telling him.

“
You don’t see lights over there, Chantel. You can’t see anything,” he reminded her gently.

“
Just like you can’t be guilty,” she pointed out gently.

He watched her wet lips part on a soft sigh.

“Don’t let them make a villain out of you. Don’t let them break you.”

Leaning down, he pressed his lips to hers again, knowing what she was trying to tell him, but the truth was the lights were there. They were coming, and it was his fault.

He raised his mouth from hers and looked into sightless eyes. “You can’t break a man that’s already broken.”

Water swirled around them, and as it moved above his waist, he firmly planted his feet and continued holding her. Her lower body pulled her down as he pulled her up. He refused to let her go. His arms were shaking from the rigid position he had been holding for some time now. Still, she lay there calm, almost resigned, as he felt his heart being torn from his chest, knowing he was watching her being pulled away from him.

He cursed God and pleaded with Him to take him instead, but he knew it was pointless. This could only end one way. As he stood there helpless, he knew that was the cruelest fate of all. He knew how this was going to fucking end, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.

She had closed her eyes earlier. He guessed it was around twenty minutes ago. She hadn’t opened them or spoken since. He needed to hear her to reassure himself that she was still there, still fighting this losing battle with him.

“Chantel,” he urged softly. His throat was sore from silently crying as he gripped her head in his hands, praying he was strong enough to hold her. “Chantel.”

He now stood in water chest deep as the rain hit the back of his neck where his wet shirt clung to him. All he felt was numb.

“
Wake up,” he whispered. “Come on, Beauty. It’s time to wake up.”

Eyes of gray opened. Eyes that held his soul focused as a small smile touched lips of red.

“You stay with me, okay?” he ordered firmly, trying to keep his voice from trembling.

Those same lips smiled slowly, and he felt his heart crack in two.

“It’s too cold. I can’t feel my feet anymore.”

“That’s just because they’re numb.” He tried to reassure her as a shiver racked her entire body again. Biting his lip hard, he blinked rapidly, trying to clear his vision to see her clearly.

“I’m not scared, Phillipe, not anymore.”

Shaking his head, he finally lost the tight grip he had on his emotions. He let the tears fall down his face as his body shook from the soul-shattering pain it was enduring.

“I’m not scared, not as long as you’re here with me.” She closed her eyes and whispered, “The water is much higher now. I can feel it against my chin.” Suddenly, she cried out, “Diva!”

The name broke free from her cool lips with a surprising burst of force.

“You must take Diva, Phillipe. Don’t let them have her. They don’t understand…” Her voice faded as the eyes that held his soul pleaded with him. “She is me, and I belong to you.”

Swallowing in as much air as he could, he pushed out the only reassurance he could now give. “Don’t you worry. I won’t let Diva go, and I won’t leave you. I’m not going anywhere.”

He tried to hold her higher, but he couldn’t make her move, not even an inch.

The last thing she whispered was, “Neither am I.”

As he stood there for the next thirteen-and-a-half hours, the water rose to his shoulders, far above Chantel’s chin, far above where he was able to hold her. Then, it fell away, leaving him cradling her in water up to his thighs.

She left him in a peaceful river that turned out to be the most deceptive place of all.

***

I am still standing behind him as the final words leave his mouth. Tears are streaming down my face, and I can feel my heart breaking for the agonizing loss he had suffered. As soon as he turns toward me, his face is etched in sorrow and pain, and his eyes are bloodshot from the tears he’s shed while laying his soul bare. I have no words for him, not one. How do you give a tortured man absolution? How do you convince him it was not his fault when he so clearly believes that it was?