Page 137 of Salvaged Hearts

We were nose down in the water—dark navy creeping up the windshield. So, we hadn’t submerged entirely. Not yet. Which meant I hadn’t been out long—just got my bell rung. The source of water was obvious: a steady stream pouring through the vents and around the front doors.

The urge to hyperventilate was overwhelming, and I forced myself to fight it, to suck down long, steady breaths of air despite the protest in my ribs.

Breathe. Control your mind. Learning control will keep you alive, baby.Naturally,Greyson’s voice would be the anchor my mind would cast. Breathe. Control. I could do this. Had to do this.

“Jax,” I croaked again. “Jackson!”

Nothing. Not a stir of movement. Eyes burning, I forced myself to breathe and looked around. How in the hell did you get out of a belt like this?

Jax.

He always carried an assortment of blades. “Mattie?”

“I’m here,” she squeaked, voice warbling.

“Hi, sweet girl. We’re going to figure this out, okay?”

“Okay,” she breathed back bravely.

“That’s my girl. Are you in your belt, or did yours release?”

“I’m out,” she said, seeming to steady as I talked to her. But the water was climbing, more than halfway up the windshield, my heart rate along with it.

“Good,” I rasped, the strain in my voice arguing with the certainty I put into that word. “That’s good. Listen to me and do exactly what Leigh and I say, okay?”

“Okay,” she squeaked.

“I need you to climb down to Jax. He has knives in his pockets. I need you to get them for us.”

“I can’t,” she breathed, the tremor in that word breaking my heart.

“You can,” Leigh whispered. There was a moment of silence—just the rush of water through the vents and the crackle of the radio dying as my mind sprinted, panic creeping through my aching bones as I tried to calculate how long we had before this behemoth of a vehicle submerged entirely. A minute, maybe two at best. The windshield was cracked but seemed to be holding steady. Incredible for now, but breaking the glass to get out would be another issue…

One thing at a time, or my impending meltdown would win. I huffed out a breath in an attempt to stay centered.

“Quickly, Mattie,” I encouraged, holding my hand out so she could grab it. The angle wasn’t too severe, but she was just a peanut. A very smart, very shy little peanut. I was a grown woman, and my heart was racing so frantically it was almost impossible to steady my breathing. Mattie had to be losing it. And god, I had no idea what she’d see if she got down there. If I had any other option, I’d take it.

Her warm little fingers landed in mine, and a breath of relief whooshed out of me as she scampered down the center between the captain’s chairs.

“Good, Mattie, just like that, sweetie,” Leighton encouraged. I could hear her shifting—no doubt assessing our best escape routes just as frenetically as I was. The water was steadily soaking Royce’s still lap.

“I don’t want you looking around up there, okay? Stay focused. Eyes on the middle console and then Jax’s pockets—no detours, alright? We just need the knives. Nothing else.”

“But Captain Reynolds?—”

“I’ll take care of him, okay? Just get us out of these so we can get us all out of here.”

Nodding, she blew out a shaky breath and did as I’d asked, keeping her eyes down, although her breathing grew concerningly shallow as she crept over the console and fumbledfor the blades as the water poured over his seat, hitting my ankles like a wall of ice. My eyes flicked up to Royce, where he slumped against the corner of the window and dash.

“Got ‘em,” she breathed, rushing to scramble back to me and hand me the first of two prizes.

“Good, Mattie. Now I need you to carefully climb to the back, okay?”

“But—”

“No buts. I need you to climb to the back of the car.”

“Now, Tillie,” Leighton ordered, tone firm. Reluctantly, Matilda scrambled back and over the third row of seats.

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