Page 88 of The Engagement Party

Mitch shifted until he stood between Ruthie and Sierra. He would kill her if it meant saving Sierra. Ruthie knew and tried not to push him to that point.

“We set this up. All those long nights together. We laughed about how fun it would be.” Dylan nodded in Ruthie’s direction. “Her getting close to Will pissed me off, but it was necessary.”

“Shut up.” The words screamed inside Ruthie but came out in a harsh whisper.

Dylan looked around Ruthie to Mitch. “Here’s a general hint . . . not that you’re going to live long enough to use it, but she should’ve tied my hands in the back, not the front. There are a million videos online that teach people how to break zip tiesand they all start withhope your attacker isn’t very smart and ties your hands in front so you can easily get free.”

“You used the poker,” Sierra said in a shaky voice. “You freed yourself.”

“Maybe I did. Maybe Ruthie left it for me.” Dylan twirled the makeshift weapon as he spoke. “Either way, I’m going to beat you to death with it while Mitch watches. So, if you want to finally tell the poor bastard that you’re in love with him, now would be the time.”

Words jumbled in Ruthie’s throat. She rushed to get them out before he followed through with his threat. “Cassie called the police. She and Alex are on the way to get help right now.”

Dylan laughed. “That bitch would crawl over all of your dead bodies to save her reputation. She’s not calling anyone.”

A flash of movement made Ruthie duck. Mitch’s body flew past her and knocked into Dylan, whose smug look vanished as their bodies crunched together. Off-balance, they tipped off the edge of the dock and plunged into the water. Gravity pulled them under. Waves splashed up around them. Arms and legs rose above the water then disappeared.

After a flurry of whitecaps and bubbles, Mitch broke through the water again. He drew in a deep breath right before Dylan sprang up and punched him in the head. A crescendo of grunts and groans welcomed the fog-covered sunrise then the men dunked under again.

Sierra dropped to her knees on the edge of the dock. The thrashing and hitting sent ripples through the water, which made the dock buck. The creaking increased as the men rolled in the water. A foot appeared then both heads. The gasping died out as the bodies vanished into the dark water again.

“The gun.” Ruthie meant to think the words, but she said them out loud.

Sierra’s gaze shot to her. “Do you still have bullets?”

“Two.” Ruthie reached into her pocket and pulled out the ones she’d grabbed as a precaution if she needed to reload, never expecting Cassie would steal the others.

Sierra pointed at the water. “Stop stalling and shoot him.”

The rowboat banged against the opposite side of the dock. The shifting pulled the rope holding it in place taut.

Ruthie looked for Dylan, but his head didn’t break through the dark water. She could make out shadows and pushing. A leg peeked out of the ripples in the water. One of them kicked, but she couldn’t tell which. Then she saw Mitch’s face underwater but near the surface. He grimaced as Dylan barrel-rolled him.

“What are you waiting for? He’s choking Mitch.”

The trembling of Sierra’s voice made Ruthie move faster. She couldn’t debate and find excuses as she fumbled with the bullets in her skirt pocket. One bounced out of her hand and pinged against the dock. She didn’t bother to look for it because she had the other one.

Bubbles streamed up from the water’s depths. The dock bobbed and weaved as Sierra grabbed the edge and looked into the churning waves.

Ruthie loaded and aimed. But where? Which one of them wore jeans...? Both? The rain kicked up to a light drizzle. Drops pelted her face as she tried to focus. The water would change the bullet’s trajectory. She thought she’d read that once, but maybe not. She couldn’t be sure because every thought blurred together.

“Ruthie, now!” Sierra reached into the water, trying to grab for the bodies as they shifted and swam.

“I can’t see . . . I can’t . . .” Ruthie shook her head. She needed to concentrate to keep from hitting Mitch. Then she saw the poker.

Dylan must have dropped it when he lunged for Mitch. It had fallen between the slats on the deck. Ruthie crouched down. She stuck her fingers into the opening and wood moved, pinching her fingers inside.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“What if I miss?” But Ruthie couldn’t argue now. She poured all of her energy into grabbing the poker. Her finger touched it then lost it. The deck rocked again as the water grew choppier from all the kicking and struggling.

Ruthie tried to remember the last time either man had risen to the surface to take a breath. They continued to scramble and thrash but they had to be running out of air.

She’d take the chance and use the gun. Just as she moved her hand out of the opening, her fingers touched metal. She grabbed and pulled the poker out.

The men pushed to the surface. The air filled with labored breathing and panicked huffing. Dylan had Mitch in a choke hold. Mitch tore and clawed at Dylan’s arm but the determined, teeth-clenched expression on Dylan’s face promised death.

Ruthie remembered how Sierra had wielded the poker and mimicked her. Winding up, Ruthie swung and brought the poker down in a swift arc. Dylan saw and shifted in time, sending the poker smashing into his shoulder. He cried out in what sounded like a mix of rage and pain, and his hold on Mitch loosened.

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