𝘿𝙞𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝘿𝙪𝙤 ; 𝙏𝙝𝙤𝙢𝙖𝙨 𝙎𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙗𝙮 [ BOOK 2 ]

EIGHT

CHAPTER EIGHT: NO REST FOR THE WICKED

The stream lay before them like a broad belt of black and silver brocade. The river passed through the forest, wide and opaque. The water was green, darker in the shadows and more pale in the light, but still green. Against the noise of the birds that were welcoming the new day, the gentle murmur of the water could only just be heard, a backdrop to the musical notes coming from above.

For all its serenity there was more danger in its swirling depths than the trees behind. Between the boats and the fish, she didn't even want to get her boots wet, but the water called out, yearning her name to take a dip in its murky surface.

The mist swallowed the base of the riverside. It smothered the greens of the leaves, the grasses and the underbrush. It leached out their colour, turning everything the same stony grey as the pavement, illuminating Thomas's face which had contorted in confusion.

Caroline was in an obvious trance, completely captured by the water's movements. On her knees to inspect, the water moved softly around her outstretched fingers, caressing coolly, eddying in their wake. She pulled her hand out and watch the drips, transparent.

They fell as if they had been snatched by gravity to the saline below, each one swiftly haloed by ever-growing rings, distorting the underbelly of the river's bay. In the breeze her hand was cold, yet her back was warmed by the lingering spring sun.

"There's nothing fascinating about the water." Tommy breathed a laugh.

"Perhaps not." Caroline frowned. "But I want to feel something."

"Caroline, don't. That's insane."

"Yes. Yes it is."

Caroline was enveloped by the dark indigo body of water. The incredible pressure compressed her chest, forcing her lungs to burn as if on fire. Her heart began hammering, increasing in intensity and speed, like a bird trapped in a cage. Her throat seared in agony with the rising pressure of trapped air. Head pounding with panic, threatening to explode any second.

She gave into the pressure and took a breath of air, only to engulf a gush of salty water. She tasted the filthy river, foul and polluted. Opening her mouth again, this time to scream, Caroline let out a string of bubbles. Despair filled her with every struggling gulp.

Icy cold water was thrust up her nostrils, a stream cascaded into the back of her throat and nose, sending jets of pain through her body. Slowly, the commotion and chaotic sounds of the water drowned out to a low hum, buzzing at her ears, gradually muting into silence, one with the darkness.

She gave up on the screaming, on the thrashing, allowing the water to hold her body in a sustained position beneath the river. As her vision blurred out and her consciousness faltered, her body became numb and she waited in resignedness for the numbing hands of death to suck away every last piece of life left in her.

Her lungs were starved for oxygen, and yet, she adored the feeling. It was an escape from the truth - the truth in which meant that she lived in a world without John Shelby. With her eyelids fluttering open, there in the water, floated John. 

She had already grieved her father. She made peace with their past and moved on, as well as the loss of her mother whom she'd grieved for long before her grand exit. But, John's departure would be an absence that would significantly wound her heart no matter how many days she told herself that she was fine, because without his guidance and kind attitude in a world of corrupt business deals, she was nothing without the man that she initially fell head over heels for.