Page 73 of Second Chance Alaska

A large wave envelops me and my body crashes against a large, jagged rock. I feel my earthly skin tear. Blood seeps out of the wound at my side and turns the water around me a deep crimson. It aches and stings as the salt water covers the wound. I force a deep breath, forgetting I can’t breathe under the water. Water fills my lungs and I struggle to propel myself higher, lifting my head above the tumultuous waves for a gasp.

I dive back under, annoyed at these useless human legs that won’t work together to propel me through the water strong enough, fast enough... These small, weak arms tire quickly and the air in my lungs runs out too fast.

At the surface, I scan the dark depths and it’s nearly impossible to see. There’s no light illuminating the dark the way it did before. The lighthouse beacon seems to be lost in the thick fog overhead and the stormy weather.

These human eyes are burning from the salt and my nose stings, but I refuse to give up. I can’t. I keep scanning the surface for any sign of the boat and I see the fisherman fall overboard as a wave capsizes the vessel.

My heart races and blood thunders in my veins. Renewed determination and a fighting spirit propel me to continue. I dive below the surface and kick my legs as fast as I can. I move my arms through the water and I continue to search...

Long moments later, I spot my fisherman floating, his limp body suspended in the water, dipping farther and farther into its unknown depths. I swim faster, harder, against the unforgiving current toward him.

I need to reach him. I can’t give up.

My strength lies within and I need to channel that courage and resilience to rescue the man I love. I need to believe in my own power and not give up.

I reach him and, wrapping my arms around him, I summon any remaining strength I have to swim back toward the shore. The waves continue to push and pull and I can’t be sure of the direction I’m traveling in, but I keep moving.

What feels like a long time later, I drag his body onto the rocky coast, out of breath and exhausted.

I collapse next to him and struggle to take deep breaths in and out, shivering in the cold wind. I turn toward him and check to see if his eyes have opened. They haven’t.

He’s not breathing.

I lean over him and breathe into his lungs. I press against his chest. I repeat the motions over and over.

Come on! Wake up! I can’t lose you!

I can’t lose him.

Not this way. It was supposed to be a different ending for us—equally painful and heartbreaking, but at least he would live...

It can’t end this way.

I fight and fight to save him until there’s no strength left in my arms, no breath left in my lungs. I collapse against his limp body, lying on the cold seashore, and weep tears that seem endless.

I couldn’t save him. My fisherman is gone and it’s my fault.

Carly’s cheeks felt damp and she wiped the tears away as she attached the chapter to an email for her editor.

Yep, some happily-ever-afters just weren’t meant to be.

ANODD-SOUNDINGringing woke her from a troubled sleep the next morning. Peeling her eyes open, Carly sat up and scanned the room. What was that noise?

It wasn’t a ringtone or her alarm clock.

The noise continued and she pushed back the bedsheets and tossed her legs over the side. She moved through her apartment, the noise growing louder as she made her way to the kitchen. Seeing her laptop open on the table, she saw the Skype call trying to connect.

She moved closer and saw the image of her editor on the screen.

Her pulse raced as she glanced down at her tank top and shorts. A quick glance toward the window reflected back that her hair was a mess and she knew she must have raccoon eyes from not having washed off her makeup before falling back into bed the day before.

Maybe she could ignore it, send Paige an email to set up a call later that day.

The noise stopped as the unanswered call quit ringing and she sighed in relief before it immediately started again. This time a little message bubble appeared on the side.URGENT!her editor had typed.

Damn. She couldn’t ignore it. She ran a quick hand through her messy hair and wiped under her eyes. She’d just submitted the most recent chapter hours before, with the dark moment and the completion of the book—the completion of the series—and she was nervous about the editor’s comments. Paige usually sent notes by email, so an unexpected Skype call had Carly on edge.

She pulled out a chair and perched on it as she hit Connect on the call, plastering on the best fake smile she could muster. “Paige! Hi!”

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