Page 22 of Ribbons and Roses
But Ernest’s call falls on deaf ears.
Delphine’s older brother leaps off the boat and starts stroking his arms and legs in an attempt to make it toward the shore.
“Damn it,” Ernest grits out. “The boy’s too prideful for his own good. Let’s go. We have no more time. This boat’s going down.”
The rest of us finish strapping into our life jackets before we abandon the boat altogether.
Stitches and Ernest dive before I do. I’m last to take the plunge, leaping headfirst into the icy water.
Only a few strokes into the long swim, it’s apparent Ernest was being honest. He’s not the strongest swimmer and his age affects his stamina. Luckily, Stitches is close enough that he helps him where he can. The two have started working in tandem, quickly overtaking where Marcel has begun to struggle.
Delphine’s older brother’s cockiness has evaporated as he flounders. He smacks his arms around, barely gaining ground, more winded by the second. He has no technique, no real idea how to stroke his arms and legs.
It’s only a matter of minutes before he’ll go under.
“Get the fuck away from me!” he yells as I grip the front of his life jacket.
I’m not the best swimmer myself, but I’m capable enough to make it to the shoreline. Marcel shoves at me, water splashing around us as I grab him to pull him along.
“Stop being fucking hardheaded,” I growl. “You want to drown or you want to let the mobster help you to shore?”
The repulsion in his dark eyes is unmistakable. He wants nothing to do with me.
Yet my question’s met with silence. Reluctant deference.
He knows I’m right.
“Good,” I say. “Now shut the fuck up and let’s make it to shore.”
Over the course of the next seven minutes, we struggle toward the shoreline. Stitches and Ernest make it first, the two winded and exhausted as they stumble among the slippery rocks. Marcel and I arrive a couple minutes after.
Once we can touch the bottom of the lake, I let go of him and let him make it the rest of the way on his own.
We’re dripping wet and heaving for air. Limbs ache and muscles burn. Stumbling across the rocks to dry ground, we take a moment to collect our breath and calm down.
“What the hell was that?” Stitches asks what we’re each thinking. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say our boat was sabotaged.”
I shake wet hair out of my face and turn back to glare at our sinking boat in the middle of the lake. “I would say without question that someone wanted that boat to sink with us on it. But the real question is who?”
8
delphine
I’m alonein the kitchen preparing dinner when Salvatore finds me. He comes up from behind and slides his arms around my hips to hold me close. His lips hover near my ear as his warmth radiates from him.
My eyes close on their own, gratitude filling me up.
He’s made it home safely. He and the others escaped a situation that could’ve turned fatal.
“You alright?” he asks me.
“Am I alright?” I repeat with a delirious-sounding laugh. “Let’s see. My husband and the father of my children could’ve drowned today. That’s along with my father and my brother… and a very good friend. I’m doing swell, Jon.”
“We had it under control.”
“Is that the same thing you’d say if it were me and the kids?” I pose my question as I twist slightly in his arms for a look at him.
His jaw sets. “That would be different.”