Heroes Are My Weakness(37)

Two more . . .

If she’d been thinking clearly, she would have stopped, but she was acting on instinct. Her entire life had led to this moment when her only purpose was to save the pups. She fell on the rocks as she scrambled back to the cave, and a long gash opened on her calf. She staggered inside. An icy wave pushed her down. She struggled to swim.

Only the faintest glow came from the flashlight on the ledge. The wet cardboard box sagged precariously. Her knee scraped the rock as she pulled herself up.

Two pups. She couldn’t do this twice. She had to get them both out. She tried to pick them up together but couldn’t make her hands work. Her foot slipped again, and again she fell back in the water. Gasping, she fought her way to the surface, but she was choking and disoriented. She barely managed to hoist herself up to the ledge again. She reached inside.

Only one. She could only save one.

Her fingers closed around wet fur. With a wrenching sob, she took the pup and started to swim only to discover that her legs wouldn’t move. She tried to get them under her so she could stand, but the undertow was too strong. And then, in the dim light coming from outside, she saw the monster wave barreling toward the cave. Rising higher and higher still. Scudding inside, engulfing her, and throwing her against the rocky cave wall. She twisted and tumbled, her arms flailing, knowing she was drowning.

A hand pulled at her. She fought, struggled. The arms were strong. Insistent. They dragged at her until she felt clean air on her face.

Theo.

It wasn’t Theo. It was Jaycie. “Stop fighting!” the girl cried.

“The dogs . . .” Annie gasped. “There’s another—” She ran out of oxygen.

Another wave crashed over them. Jaycie’s grip stayed firm. She dragged Annie and the pup against the current and out of the cave.

When they reached the rocks, Annie collapsed, but Jaycie didn’t. As Annie struggled to sit up, her rescuer rushed back to the cave. It didn’t take her long to return carrying a wet, wriggling puppy.

Annie was dimly aware of the blood streaming from the gash in her calf, of her scratched arms, and the stains blooming like crimson roses through her T-shirt. She heard the dogs’ yips coming from the fire pit, but the sound brought her no pleasure.

Jaycie hovered over the pit, the pup she’d rescued still in her arms. Annie slowly absorbed the fact that Jaycie had saved her life, and through her chattering teeth she mustered a ragged “Thank you.”

Jaycie shrugged. “I guess you should thank my old man for getting drunk. I had to get out.”

“Annie! Annie, are you down there?”

It was too dark to see, but Annie had no trouble recognizing Regan’s voice. “She’s here,” Jaycie called up when Annie couldn’t answer.

Regan scampered down the shallow stone steps and rushed to Annie. “Are you all right? Please don’t tell my dad. Please!”

Anger coursed through Annie. She came to her feet as Regan hurried to the puppies. She lifted one to her cheek and started to cry. “You can’t tell, Annie.”

All the emotions Annie had suppressed exploded inside her. She left the pups, left Regan and Jaycie, and climbed awkwardly over the rocks to the cliff stairs. Her legs were still weak, she was shivering, and she had to grip the rope handrail to pull herself up.

The lights were still on around the deserted swimming pool. Annie’s pain and fury gave her legs fresh strength. She rushed across the lawn and into the house. She flew up the stairs, her feet pounding on the treads.

Theo’s room was toward the back, next to his sister’s. She flung open the door. He lay on his bed, reading. The sight of her, with her matted hair, bloody scratches, and gashed calf brought him to his feet.

There were always bits of riding gear lying around his bedroom. She didn’t consciously snatch up the riding crop, but a force she couldn’t control had taken over. The crop was in her hand, and she was rushing toward him. He stood there, not moving, almost as if he knew what was coming. She brought up her arm and swung the crop at him as hard as she could. It caught the side of his face and split the thin skin over his brow bone.

“Annie!” Her mother, drawn by the noise, raced into the room with Elliott right behind. Elliott wore his customary starched long-sleeved blue dress shirt while her mother wore a narrow black caftan and long silver earrings. Mariah gasped as she saw the blood streaming down Theo’s face and then Annie’s condition. “My God . . .”

“He’s a monster!” Annie cried.

“Annie, you’re hysterical,” Elliott proclaimed, hurrying to his son.

“The dogs nearly died because of you!” she screamed. “Are you sorry they didn’t? Are you sorry they’re still alive?” Tears streaming down her face, she lunged at him again, but Elliott twisted the riding crop from her grasp. “Stop it!”

“Annie, what happened?” Her mother was staring at her as if she no longer recognized her.

Annie poured out the story. As Theo stood there, his eyes on the floor, blood running from the cut, she told them everything—about the note he’d written, the pups. She told them how he’d locked her in the dumbwaiter and set the birds on her at the boat wreck. How he’d pushed her into the marsh. The words rushed out of her in a torrent.

“Annie, you should have told me all this earlier.” Mariah pulled her daughter from the room, leaving Elliott to stanch the flow of blood from his son’s wound.