Page 156 of The Wrong Heart

He smiles.

I had waited months to see that smile. There was a time when I would have done anything to watch it bloom across his handsome face, planting new, healthy roots inside of him.

But right now, it slices me straight to the marrow, a grisly blade between my ribs.

They say a look says a thousand words, but I only see one.

Goodbye.

An ugly cry expels the moment Parker lets go, plummeting into the bay, only a blink before I reach him. “No!No!”

Devastating hysteria possesses me, something wretched, and my body moves on impulse, legs violently shaking as I start climbing over the railing with zero regard for anything but jumping in after him. Autopilot, tunnel vision, chaotic instinct—it infiltrates my blood, infecting me with a desperate sort of mania.

Before I can leap, two solid arms wrap around my midsection, pulling me back, up and over, like I’m nothing more than a feather. Weightless.

Cobwebs.

My heart thunders in protest, legs flailing as I try to escape the stranger’s grip, but he continues to drag me away from the rail. “No! Let go of me!”

“Whoa, whoa, calm down. I’m an officer. There’s an embankment around this way—follow me.”

I don’t even spare him a glance.

I just start running.

My ballet flats pound the pavement with a furious gait, bruising my soles, and my lungs contract with burning, painful breaths. My throat stings, my muscles ache, and my heartbeats eradicate me from the inside out as I blindly rush down the verge towards the water’s edge.

Groups of people hover, while medical personnel try to hold them back, and before I can even think about diving headfirst into the water, someone calls out, “We got ‘em!”

Oh, my God.

I case the bay with wild eyes, spotting two figures in the water a few yards down, just as EMTs meet them, assisting them back to land.

With a strangled cry, I race forward, pushing through bodies and arms and whispered chatter. “Parker!”

He’s wading through the water, sluggish and unsteady, dragging the other man with him.

He’s moving, he’s walking, he’s breathing.

He’s alive!

A paramedic takes the man from his arms, carrying him to the grass, as a second one pulls Parker up over the edge, until he collapses, coughing and sputtering.

“Parker!” I shout, my knees aching with every swift, furious step. Rocks and pebbles dig into my feet through the thin soles, but I don’t stop running until I reach him. “Parker, God… oh, my God…”

He lifts up for a moment, then falls backwards, spitting out mouthfuls of water. “Melody…” he chokes out.

My body launches itself against his, uncaring of anything but feeling his beating heart pressed into my chest. Sobs leak out of me when his arms snake around my back, clutching me tight. “I thought I lost you. I thought you were gone,” I weep into the collar of his drenched t-shirt.

Parker wheezes, buckling onto his back as EMTs sweep in to check his vitals. He weaves his hand through my hair, trying to hold me as close as he can while rejecting the medical attention. “I’m fine,” he grits out, still coughing. Still gasping. “I’ll be fine.”

He’s soaked and shivering, the bay water seeping through my thin dress as I cling desperately. Tears continue to spill from my eyes, adding to the moisture, and I pepper him in frenzied kisses. Parker’s chest expands and deflates with every deep, arduous breath, and my lips trail from his neck to his jaw, until they meet with his.

I kiss him.

I kiss him hard, my tongue tearing through his lips, hungry to taste his warmth for myself. It’s evidence, it’s fact, it’sproof—he’s alive.

Parker pulls back to catch his breath, another waterlogged cough rattling his lungs. “Fuck, that sucked,” he says hoarsely.

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