Save Your Breath (Morgan Dane #6)(84)

Don’t let go!

Slowly, the footsteps began to walk away. Olivia waited. He would need time to walk back across the rocky beach to the path in the woods.

Her hands slipped on the wet piling. She lost footing in the slippery muck. The cold closed over her head. For a few seconds, she was suspended in the murky water. Then she got her feet under her body again. Her face broke the surface, and she sputtered.

Had he heard?

She listened but heard no more footsteps. Had he left or was he waiting for her to come out? She couldn’t wait any longer. Soon, she wouldn’t be able to move. Her body would shut down. She’d sink and drown.

She released her grip on the dock. Her arms fell limply into the water. She sank, her head going under again. The cold water burned her eyeballs. But she wasn’t ready to die. Her survival instinct kicked in, and her feet followed suit. She came up again. Floundering in the water, she gasped for air as she emerged from under the dock. For a few seconds, she stood in the muck, scanning the beach, the tall weeds that grew at the marshy edge of the lake brushing her face.

The shore was empty, but she could sense a presence. The goose bumps on her skin prickled. Someone was watching.

Where is he?

Maybe she’d gotten lucky. Maybe he’d returned to the woods to search for her. Maybe he hadn’t heard her almost drowning in the marshy lake.

Olivia’s bare feet were numb as she tried to walk toward the shore. She could barely feel the slime on the bottom of the lake. Tall weeds and cattails tangled around her legs. She tripped over a rock and fell forward. Reaching out, she caught her balance on the side of the dock. Righting herself, she plowed forward. She could do this.

Dry land was ahead. Then what? She was soaking wet, having an asthma attack, and probably hypothermic. She could barely breathe standing still. How could she run away?

A hand reached down from the dock and grabbed her by the arm. “Get up here, bitch!”

Olivia tried to resist as he pulled her from the water, but there was nothing to hold on to. Lack of oxygen had stolen her energy. Not even the panic swirling in her belly could give her the strength to fight back. She flopped like a rag doll. Her leg banged into the wood as he dragged her over the edge. Her legs tangled in her wet pajama bottoms.

He shook her arm. “I’ve had enough of chasing you through the woods. Did you think you could escape?”

She did not.

As her oxygen levels fell even further, her panic faded to sadness. She’d never see her family or Lincoln again. Her life was over, and she had left too many things undone and unsaid. She had been defeated. She had nothing left. Her lungs were tighter than an industrial vise. She could barely draw in enough air to stay conscious. She couldn’t fight, and she couldn’t run.

She was at his mercy.





Chapter Forty

Through the black-and-white imaging of his NVGs, Lance watched the man he was assuming was Stephen Holgersen drag a women’s body from the water up onto the dock. She fell onto her hands and knees. Was that Olivia?

The woman was the right size and shape. Moonlight brightened the lake, and he could see Olivia.

Relief passed through him.

She’s alive.

Lance paused behind a bush to send Morgan a quick text, asking her to call 911 and send help to the lake.

He returned his phone to his pocket and drew his weapon. If Morgan received his message and called for help, emergency response was at least twenty minutes from the entrance to the camp. Then the Redhaven police or Randolph County sheriff’s deputies would have to find them. Who knew how long that would take? He and Sharp were on their own. At best, law enforcement would show up to clean up the mess after it was all over.

He had to sneak up on Stephen. Lance removed his NVGs and set them on the ground at the base of a tree. Holgersen was focused on Olivia, who was on her knees in front of him. Lance crept across the beach and hid behind the shed. He peered around the building and saw Sharp approaching from the other side. Slipping out from behind the shed, Lance eased into the lake. He lowered his body until only his head was above the water.

Olivia and Stephen were near the end of the dock, about forty feet away. Lance slid alongside the dock. He moved slowly so he didn’t splash. When he’d gone twenty feet, Lance chinned himself up and peered over the top of the dock.

Still on her hands and knees, Olivia coughed and spit water onto the dock. Her long dark hair dripped. Her pajamas were soaked. Her shoulders slumped in defeat. Closer now, Lance could see bruises on her face.

“You thought you were being clever, hiding in the water.” Stephen grabbed her by the hair and jerked. “Do you feel smart now?”

She whimpered, and fury stoked inside Lance. Men who hurt women deserved the same treatment tenfold.

Stephen released her hair. Her head fell and hung low. She began to cough, a dry, painful sound. When the spell ended, Lance could hear her wheezing from twenty feet away. Her body moved with the effort to draw in air. Could she even breathe? How long had she been in the water?

Lance moved forward. She needed help. Now. But Olivia was too close to Stephen. He couldn’t shoot him without risking hitting her. He needed a better angle.

He eased back into the water and moved through the thick weeds and cattails until he rounded the far end of the dock. A ladder led up. Lance started up the rungs and peered over the top.

A few feet away, Stephen took a big-ass KA-BAR knife from his pocket. He took hold of Olivia by the hair again and pulled her head backward, stretching her neck. Rage rose in Lance’s chest. Olivia’s eyes were wide. How fast could Lance get over the side of the dock? Not fast enough to keep Stephen from slitting her throat.