Page 3 of Lacey's Fight

Blocking out everything else, Lacey focused only on swimming.

Kicking her feet.

Cartwheeling her arms.

Exhaustion tugged at her already. It took almost more strength than she possessed to make any headway against the churning sea.

A battle she wasn’t sure she was going to win.

Panic threatened to claw at her.

She felt trapped out here.

Despite the ocean’s vastness, she felt like the world was folding in on her.

The storm was too wild, and she realized far too late that jumping in as soon as she saw the girl get tossed overboard had been a mistake.

One she couldn’t take back.

She was out here now and wasn’t even sure if anyone knew that she’d jumped into the water after the teenager.

That meant she was on her own.

Whether that poor girl lived or died was on her shoulders.

The tremendous pressure was enough to keep her panic at bay, and she pushed on, refusing to give up.

Giving up wasn’t in her DNA.

So onward she plodded.

The current was trying to drag her out to sea, the waves wanted to push her down into their murky depths, and the torrential rain pounded on her head like a million tiny hammers.

It was hell.

A cold, wet hell.

One that seemed never-ending.

Water in all directions, above and below, left and right, before her and behind her.

Everywhere.

Consuming her.

Eating her alive.

Claiming her.

Killing her.

* * *

August 2nd

7:22 P.M.

Benjamin “Rabbit” Blanchett frowned as he watched the woman jump off the yacht.

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