Chapter 21
BPOV
"Bella!" he cries out for me, but I can't see him. "Help me!"
"Where are you?" I yell, trying with all my might to find him in the water.
"Help me, Bella. I can't hang on much longer," I hear and his voice is fading.
Waves come one right after the other and I know I only have seconds to save him.
"I can't see you! Tell me where you are!" I scream and feel my heart race when I still can't find him.
"Please, Bella! Save … !" he cries out one last time. I strain my ears, desperate for even the faintest sound but there's nothing. The silence that rings out is more deafening than the storm that rages.
All I hear is the wind screaming and the clang of the buoy as it rocks in the distance. I stand there, unmoving.
He's gone and it's all my fault.
Gasping for breath I sit up, ignoring the protest from the aching muscles in my back. Disoriented, I rub my gritty, swollen eyes. I open and close them a few times, ignoring the burn and the fact that my eyelids feel like sandpaper, and let my eyes adjust to the darkness. Sounds begin to penetrate my sleep-fogged mind … a low, constant hiss, an occasional beep, beep, the squeak of a door opening, though it's not close by. My heart rate spikes as confusion gives way to realization.
Storm.
The Isabella Marie.
The sound of someone screaming.
Water.
Edward.
Edward in the water.
I can't breathe. It feels like my chest is being squeezed in a vice, each much-needed breath more painful than the one before. I look around frantically, almost falling out of the chair before my eyes sweep over the still figure on the bed. My breathing finally evens, though it still comes out as more of a rasp than anything. I close my eyes, squeezing them so tightly starbursts of white and red explode behind my eyelids. Steeling myself as a sense of dread slinks up my back, I open them slowly, making my skin break out in painful goosebumps. I start at the end of the bed and take in the thick, heavy blankets that obscure what lies beneath. The body is so still, the only movement coming from breaths in and out. I keep going. Up then up some more over the torso until I collapse against the bed rail when I see Edward's pale, battered face.
A white bandage with spots of blood soaked through covers almost half his forehead and there are cuts along his cheekbones. His head is the only part of his body that's visible and I shudder when I imagine what the rest of his body looks like.
I swallow the sob that's trying to bubble out of my throat and slide my hand beneath the layers of blankets that are still trying to get his body temperature up. I find his hand and sigh when we're skin against skin. I curl my fingers around his hand and lay my head against the rail. A tear splashes on the linoleum beneath me, falling into a pool of white-gray light. I lift our hands and lay my lips against the back of his, blowing a warm breath across the too cold skin. I indulge for only a moment, too afraid to leech whatever warmth his body has managed to build. My eyes unwillingly find the IV tubes sucking out his blood then returning it warmed as his body struggles to regulate itself.
My mind churns as frantic thoughts try to push forth, but I stop them before they can overtake me. There is no time for them.
I stand on wobbly legs and lean over to kiss him, trying to ignore the blue tinge beneath the translucent white.
"You promised you'd come back. I need you to wake up, Edward. Please wake up," I whisper.
This time the sob does escape and I don't try to stop the tears that fall. I collapse in the chair and lay my hand over his beneath the blankets. I rest my head on the edge of the bed and begin to pray.
I won't stop until he's back where he belongs, with me and Peyton.
EPOV
Earlier in the day …
"God dammit!" I yell as a heavy, ice-coated lobster pot slides when the boat tilts and it slams into my elbow.
Again.
Jesus, I want to go home, I think as I right the pot and secure it to the others. Thank God it's the last one, at least the last overnight trip of the season. I don't think I'd survive another one, and I'm pretty fucking sure Bella won't. I know this trip isn't normal in that we've been gone so long and went so far out. We left Corea first thing Monday morning and traveled for over a day and from there we spent three days dropping lobster pots on the course Charlie had set. Once they had time to soak, we turned around to head back to port. The work has been ceaseless. If we weren't dropping pots, we were getting them ready to drop and filling the bait bag. It's been a monotonous, miserable week, for sure. The hardest I've ever spent.
I wince as I heave a coil of rope inside the pot and then slip and slide my way across the deck to help Emmett get the rest of the pots up.
"Fuck, I'm tired," I whine to Emmett as he hits the lever to bring up another lobster pot.
We've been out on the water for over a week now and I am ready to get back to Corea … and to my girls.
I've promised Peyton I'll watch the football game she is going to save on the DVR with her and well, what I want to do to Bella after not seeing her, touching her, kissing her for more than seven days should be pretty damn self-explanatory. The two of them are my life now, my family … my whole world. I never expected to find them, I damn sure know I don't deserve them, but there is no way I am giving them up now. I've promised myself, but more importantly I've promised the two of them that I will work, every fucking day, to make sure I am worthy of them because they deserve nothing less than my very best.
The muscles in my arms ache from the biting cold that seeps into my bones and the wind that rages around us lashes my skin like a whip. I can barely feel my fingers, even though they're covered with the bulky work gloves I have to wear when we're out on the water. My legs and back feel like they are on fire and it's all I can do to stay upright.
I'm so fucking tired.
We've been pulling the traps up for almost twenty-four hours straight now, trying to get the lobsters in the live tank and the traps stowed on the boat before the storm overwhelms us.
The Isabella Marie rocks and lurches as a gust of wind swirls around the boat and my legs protest painfully as I try to keep myself from falling on my ass.
"Come on, boys! Get those damn traps up. The storm is breathing down our fucking necks!" Charlie barks from the wheelhouse.
"Damn, I hate this shit." Emmett grunts as we reel in the next trap.
Another gust of wind whips through the air and this time when the boat violently pitches to the left a wave of water surges up over the side. I let go of the gaff so that I can hang on, losing my balance in the process. It takes me a moment to right myself and I can tell I'm going to have a hell of a bruise on my thigh from being slammed against the side of the boat. I briefly think of how good it will feel when Bella's warm, soft fingertips will trace over it, like she does to every bruise and ache each time we come in.
I let myself smile for a fraction of a second then my stomach clenches so tightly it hurts. Immediately I remember how she was the night before we pulled out … frantic, almost inconsolable. She'd been positive something bad was going to happen during this trip out and no matter how much I tried to convince her otherwise, she just wouldn't listen. In the blink of an eye, she went from sweet and playful to irrational and petrified. I know every time I go out it reminds her of Evan, but I have a job to do. I've made a commitment to Charlie, Wayne, and Carlisle, and I can't let them down. Charlie needed us to go out this one last time and because of that, I felt like I had to say yes.
Leaving, even if it's only for a short time, is always hard, but this time has just been plain brutal. Bella is always so calm and rational, but something about this trip out hasn't set with her well, at all, and hasn't from the get-go. When another clap of thunder rings out overhead and another gust of wind stings my face like hundreds of tiny needles, I think she's probably right.
"Let's go, fellas. We only have three more trawls to get up," Jasper tells us and I grunt in response.
Emmett is working the hauler and it creaks and squeaks from the pressure of pulling the traps up through the crashing waves and the fierce wind.
Motherfucker, I'm cold.
Waves continue to batter the hull and creep over the side and the spray from the waves that buffet the boat is freezing almost as fast as it hits the deck.
And we're doing it; we've almost got this bastard of a storm beat when I let my guard down like a damn greenhorn. It only takes a moment; just one flickering loss of concentration and a life can change in the blink of an eye. My life.
A vision of my body curled around Bella's as we lie on the couch in front of the fireplace while Peyton watches TV from the floor flits through my mind and … I never see it coming.
"Edward, watch out!" Emmett yells and I don't even have time to react.
One moment I'm standing on the deck of the boat and the next … I'm in the dark: sinking, frozen in the middle of the icy North Atlantic.
As I struggle to breathe, I realize I'm going to break my promise to both Bella and Peyton … my girls … because there is no way in hell I'm going to make it home to them. The water is so cold. It's like nothing I have ever felt before, nothing I could have even imagined.
Bella …
Peyton …
I try to focus on them but I can't.
Fuck! Bella was right to be worried, I think through a haze of numbing pain.
Because … then … my world turns black.
Jasper POV
"Edward! Holy fuck, Jasper! Dad!" I hear Emmett scream. "Man overboard!"
I look up, stunned. Time does this freaky stand still thing, only a breath in and out, until everything suddenly moves again, only this time, it's like they're in fast forward. Emmett's waving his arms frantically and I realize … Edward's not standing beside him.
Instinct takes over and pure adrenaline spurs me into motion. I try not to think of the fact that it's Edward in the middle of the icy Atlantic and I grab the life preserver off the hook. My eyes search frantically for any sign of him. The wind howls, the rain like tiny needles against my face as I look from left to right.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck! Do you see him, Jasper?" Emmett pleads. I can't even look at him because if I do, I'll lose it. Emmett races back and forth, leaning over the side almost to the point I worry we'll have two men in the water if he's not careful.
"Emmett, what the hell happened?" Charlie's voice booms through the speaker as he looks from the wheelhouse.
I can feel the boat turn as Charlie begins to come about. I scan the water, the white-capped waves making it almost impossible to see anything. I glance down at my watch and note the time out loud to Emmett.
"It's four twenty-three. He's been in the water about a minute," I say, and his eyes widen with fear and realization.
We only have a few minutes to find him before it won't matter whether we do or we don't … he'll be dead anyway.
We crest a wave and I spy a flash of neon orange that disappears but then bobs back up to the surface.
"There! He's over there, about forty feet. Ten o'clock," I yell and turn to look at Charlie making sure he knows which direction to go.
"Oh, God." Emmett groans. "Not again, we can't go through this again. Bella won't fucking survive it."
My jaw flexes and every muscle in my body locks down. I don't move my head to look at him; my eyes stay riveted to the speck of orange floating on top of the swirling, gray water. "Shut the fuck up, Em!" I hiss at him and ready the preserver to throw.
Never, ever in all my life have I been so thankful that I grew up in Texas. Of course plucking Edward out of the middle of the ocean is a bit different from roping a calf … and a hell of a lot more important.
A gust of wind knocks me off balance and a crack of thunder rings out. Rain still falls from the smoke gray sky, so heavy it's like it comes down in sheets instead of drops. I can hear Emmett beside me saying something, but between the wind, the rain, and the waves that batter the boat, I can't make out what he's saying. From the look on his face, it's probably better that I don't.
I train my eyes back toward the sea, bouncing on my feet. Nervous energy is pumping through my veins and I'm ready for action. Edward's life is at stake. There isn't any time for indecision … or for a mistake. One wrong move and we could lose him forever.
"Oh, Christ." Emmett moans loudly and immediately I tense.
"Get ready. We've got to get him on the fucking boat." His mouth is set in a grim line and his eyes flash with determination. "We're getting him on the damned boat, Jas."
I nod and steel myself by planting my feet, or as best as I am able to on the ice-covered deck.
BPOV
Meanwhile, back in Corea the night before …
"Baby, what are you doing down here?"
I hear Mom's footsteps behind me as she enters the sunroom, but I can't take my eyes off the window. Safely ensconced inside as the wind howls outside, as the heavy clouds get more threatening by the second, seems so inherently wrong because I know Edward is out there, somewhere. The weather reports have gotten steadily worse throughout the day. I've tried to stay calm, I've tried to focus on the fact that my dad has been through savage winter storms before … I've tried not to think about my nightmares and the fact that I can't bear to lose someone else.
I've prayed.
I've worried.
I've thought about anything but Edward on that boat.
I knew sleep would be a lost cause so instead, I came downstairs where I can hear the scanner. Of course, I hope it stays silent all night, but it makes me feel closer to him somehow to be so near. I clutch my cell phone in my hand, holding it so tightly it's a wonder the sweat from my palm doesn't keep it from slipping and falling to the floor.
"Bella?" Mom asks as she settles into the opposite corner of the loveseat.
I shrug my shoulders, figuring she doesn't really need an answer, but I give her one anyway. "I can't sleep. Plus, I want to be close to the scanner … just in case."
She sighs and then scoots over to throw an arm over my shoulder. "You're going to give yourself an ulcer if you keep this up, Bella." She kisses the side of my head and I know there's more she wants to say, but thankfully she doesn't.
"I can't help it, Mom. I know, I know." I hold my hand up and stop the next words out of her mouth. "I know this is his job and I know it's something I have to learn to live with. This just feels different is all, and I don't know why. Even before they left on Monday I had a bad feeling about this trip and now with the forecast and the storm heading this way, I just can't shake the feeling something terrible is going to happen."
Her arm squeezes me tighter though she doesn't speak. What can she say? She knows as well as everyone else that up until this trip, though I've worried, I've not been afraid. This time, from the moment Edward told me they were going out, I've had a bad feeling. One that has settled deep into my bones and won't let go. No amount of assurances from Edward or my dad, or my mom or Xavier has been able to convince me otherwise and sitting here, huddled in the corner of the couch, the feeling is still there. Until he walks in the door tomorrow night, I know I won't breathe easy.
Mom sits with me a few minutes longer, until she says, "I'm going up to bed. Try to get some rest." She kisses my forehead and slips out of the room as quietly as she entered.
I lay my head on the arm of the loveseat and think about the weekend he left. We'd spent the Sunday before picking out a Christmas tree … an outing that took way longer than it should have in all honesty. Edward wanted it to be perfect; it had to look just so, and nothing else would do. No missing branches, no uneven ones either, and it had to be perfectly proportioned. It was as sweet as it had been infuriating, watching him walk up and down the rows of trees dismissing tree after tree until he found the one he wanted.
Getting it home and into the house was a different thing altogether, but I loved every minute of it. Watching him walk with Peyton sitting on his back as they looked for the tree, giggling about having a better tree than Em and Rose, and arguing over multicolored versus white lights tugged at my heartstrings something fierce.
It was the first Christmas in more than seven years where he could give into the spirit of the season and I planned on making it one to remember. We decorated the tree and the house, inside and out, and the day was wonderful from start to finish, especially when Peyton gave him the ornament we'd bought specifically for him during a sneak trip to Ellsworth one night when he was watching football with the guys. That was nothing compared to the look on his face when he saw the stockings on the mantle and there was one with his name embroidered on it hanging alongside mine and Peyton's.
Yes, things were blissful until it was time for him to tell Peyton good night, then … I lost it.
"How come you have to be gone for a whole week this time?" Peyton asks as Edward tucks her into bed. He sits on the edge of the bed next to her and leans on his arm so he can bend his head close to her.
"Because it's my job, Sprite. Pop says we need to go, so we go. I'll be back before you know it," he tries to placate her but Peyton's just as nervous as I am about this trip it seems because she frowns and shakes her head stubbornly at him.
She stares at him, deep and penetratingly, without moving. Her arms are crossed over her chest and it's taking all I have not to mirror her actions knowing that he couldn't possibly resist the both of us. "I don't want you to go for that long," she whines.
"I'll miss you and your mom, too, P, but I have to go. You know I do," he tells her gently and runs his fingers through her hair before he brushes a sweet kiss across her forehead. "You guys will be busy making cookies for your Christmas party at school anyway. Besides," he smirks when he looks from her to me and tries to keep the mood light, "you can go get my Christmas present and wrap it since I won't be here to see."
I try to smile back at him, but I know I fail when his eyes narrow and he sighs. It does help Peyton though, to hear him laugh, and thankfully she can't tell that he's only doing it for her benefit. I turn and rush out of the room when she sighs at him and says, "Fine. Okay, hold out your hand so I can give you your good luck charm for this trip."
He finds me a few minutes later standing in the living room staring out the window beside the Christmas tree. The lights are reflected in the window panes and the light snow from the night before still covers the ground. There's a fire in the fireplace. The house is warm … peaceful and filled with the scent of fresh pine and cinnamon. The whole thing would be straight out of a sappy Christmas movie if it wasn't for the fact he's getting on a boat in the morning and about to be in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean for a week.
"You didn't wait for me," he says softly as he steps behind me. His arms slide around my waist and he pulls me back to lean against his chest. He's solid in all the right places and in just a t-shirt and a pair of sleep pants, deliciously warm and inviting, but I can't even enjoy the way it feels to be in his arms.
I do lean my head back though and rest it on his shoulder. I can feel his heart beat in a steady rhythm against my back and whereas that usually soothes me, tonight it just seems to reinforce the fact that it will be a week before I can feel it again. I shiver at the thought.
"Hey, what's going on with you?" he asks and turns me around to look at him.
I hang my head and try to decide if I tell him the truth or if I pretend like this trip isn't killing me.
He reaches out when I take too long to answer and lifts my chin. "Talk to me, Bella. What's wrong?"
The worry and confusion in his eyes is enough to make me hesitate, which only makes him groan in frustration.
"Bella," he beseeches.
"I don't want you to go," I finally admit and with that the dam breaks. "I have the worst feeling, Edward. Something is going to happen to you, I know it. I don't know what, or when, but as sure as I'm standing here, I know it. Don't go. Tell Dad you're sick or something. I don't care, just don't get on that boat tomorrow!" I cry out to him.
I know I'm being unfair. I know what I'm asking is impossible, but I ask it anyway.
"Baby, stop," he tries to soothe me and wraps his arms tightly around me. "I'm going to be fine." He kisses the top of my head over and over again and splays both hands, covering my entire back and making me feel as safe as only he can.
We stand that way for a few minutes until he loosens his grip and then slides his hands up along my arms until he holds my head in his very strong but so gentle hands. He kisses me. His lips are soft, needy and his tongue makes deliberate, sweeping motions along my own. His thumbs brush across my cheekbones and my body melts against his.
My fingers twist in his t-shirt, holding him so tightly. If I could, I'd hold him that way always. The feeling of dread is still there, but I know I have to deal with it. I know he's leaving in the morning, regardless of what I say, and for both our sakes I have to be strong. Even knowing that, I beg for the one thing I've never asked before and the one thing I know he shouldn't promise, but will because I've asked.
"Promise me you'll come back, Edward," I whisper as I look into his eyes.
He doesn't hesitate. "I promise."
We both know the words aren't his to give, but I take a small measure of comfort in hearing them anyway. Until he returns safely, they'll be all I have to hang onto.
I wake up disoriented, sore, and feeling like I didn't really sleep at all. I'm still in the sunroom on the loveseat, I have a crick in my neck from keeping it at such an odd angle for so long, and I'm not sure my fingers will be of use ever again because they are still wrapped around my cell phone. Blinking a few times to try to get my eyes to focus, I gaze out the windows. The sky is gunmetal gray, ominous-looking, and the wind seems to have picked up since I last looked. It's very early in the morning. The only reason I know this is because my mom isn't up yet. For as long as I can remember, she's been awake long before the sun comes up so she can see my dad off, and even when he's not home, her internal clock doesn't let her sleep in … ever.
Gingerly, I stretch my legs out, pointing then flexing my feet. My muscles scream in protest, but after doing it a few times and rolling my head around to try to loosen the knots in my shoulders, I stand up. The feeling of dread I had the night before has seeped deep into my bones which makes even standing feel like an exercise in futility. I take a few steps forward and let my fingertips ghost across the frosty window panes and stare out into the murky horizon.
"Please keep him safe," I whisper before turning to go to the kitchen to start the coffee.
It's going to be a long, long day until I can see for myself that he's okay.
By the time I drop an uncharacteristically subdued Peyton off at school and make it to The Breakers, I feel as though I've just trudged through miles and miles of quicksand. My muscles ache, my heart hurts, and it seriously feels like I can't breathe. If I wasn't so convinced that something was off, I would have no qualms about kicking my own ass for acting like a drama queen, but I can't shake the feeling of unease that keeps spreading through my body. I glance around the parking lot as I climb out of Cherry and the knot inside my chest grows.
There are way more cars here than there normally would be at this time of the morning. That can only mean one thing. Hurrying, I push through the back door, flinging it open and race through the kitchen without acknowledging Xavier, Rose, or Alice.
"Any word?" I ask my mom without preamble, not caring about small talk in the slightest.
I try not to look anywhere but at her. I know Xavier is hovering; I can feel it. I know I should look at Ali and Rose who have every right to be as anxious as I am, but I can't … not yet.
She shakes her head and the slight slump of her shoulders and the pinch at the corner of her eyes tells me all I need to know. She's worried which makes my anxiety skyrocket.
"Oh, Jesus. I can't do this, I can't," I whisper to no one, but unable to keep the words from slipping. I wrap my arms around my waist and squeeze my eyes shut, rocking back and forth.
Strong arms, though not the ones I want, engulf me and without opening my eyes, I know it's Xavier.
"He'll be fine, Bell. They all will. Your dad will get the boat back here ahead of the storm and everything will be just fine. Stay strong now, you'll see." He kisses the side of my head and rubs what he hopes are reassuring circles on my back.
I don't have the heart to tell him it's not helping.
I do try to give him a semblance of a smile before slipping out of his embrace. I want to follow my mom who has fled the kitchen and is trying to act like nothing is wrong by mingling with the others waiting for word just like we are, but I stop and throw my arms around Rose and Alice first. No one speaks; words are only superfluous at this point. When I can't take anymore, I go to my mom.
There are so many people in the restaurant and it shocks me for a moment, even though I knew to expect it from the cars outside. Wives and girlfriends, old-timers, and those who don't work on the water but are affected by those that do, wait, together, for word. The TV that hangs in the corner is on full blast, and everyone's eyes are glued to the map that shows the worst storm in years heading straight for Corea, with every boat still out on the water in its path.
The Isabella Marie isn't the only boat that hasn't made it back to port yet, but it's the one that's the farthest away and in the most danger. I pray Dad heeded the weather warnings as they came in last night and began heading for home sooner rather than later. Edward and the guys will be exhausted. The rush to get home means pushing themselves harder than ever to squeeze in what should be a full day's work into as few hours as possible.
I vow right then and there to pamper Edward for days with massages, warm baths, making all his favorite foods, and even promising myself to watch however many episodes of The Big Bang Theory that he wants to watch, no matter how many times we've already watched them.
But first, he has to come home.
I try to stay busy, refilling coffee cups and making sure everyone is comfortable, or as comfortable as they can be in this situation. The morning passes with no word, good or bad, until the front door to the restaurant bursts open and Eric runs in yelling, "The Wind Dancer just pulled in."
My body sags and at once I'm half disgusted with myself, and half relieved when I pat Nicole on the shoulder. "I'm so happy Grant is home," I tell her honestly, knowing at least Lucy's dad is safe.
"I'm sure Edward won't be too far behind, Bella." She hugs me as she stands up. Her mind is already out the door, not that I blame her a bit. I watch her and the wives of the other men on the Wind Dancer get up, hating that I wish it was me and not them.
I look at Mom, then at Rose and Alice, and I can tell they feel the same way. It's probably one of the hardest things about living where we do and loving men that spend the majority of their lives on the water. That dichotomy of being happy when others' loved ones come home, but that gnawing, aching feeling when yours don't.
"Mom, call Aggie, please," I beg a short while later. The rain isn't even coming down in sheets anymore; now it's one steady deluge with no break in sight. The thunder continues to rumble overhead and the wind howls right along side. By the second, the storm gets worse and worse and just looking around the restaurant at the sea of faces, most of whom have been through this time and again, lets me know that this is no ordinary storm.
Alice moves forward and curls her hand around my arm, gripping so tightly I'm sure there will be a bruise. Rose stands on my other side, and her anxiety is palpable. Like my mom, she will keep her nervousness buried behind a wall of calm that will only show a crack when Emmett returns safely. I've seen this same scenario play out many times in the past but never, ever have I felt this oppressive weight that feels like my chest is slowly, painfully crushing me with every breath I take.
"Bella, Aggie will let us know as soon as she hears anything," Mom says slowly, as if by saying the words carefully makes them easier to hear.
I stare at her, knowing that she's right, but wanting so much for her to call anyway. When she holds my gaze long enough for it to feel uncomfortable, I pat Alice on the hand and then pull her hand off my arm. She needs comforting every bit as much as I do, but I know if I open my mouth to her all the emotion I'm holding inside is going to come spewing out in a torrent of tears and words, so to keep that from happening, I walk toward the windows.
Watching the storm does nothing to ease my mind, but at least standing by myself keeps me from falling apart in front of everyone else. I'm trying so hard to be strong, to make Edward proud of me for keeping it together and not letting my fear make me an irrational shrew … he had enough of that before he left. So I stand and pray and tell myself over and over again he'll be just fine and will be back soon. I twist one hand around the other, just trying to release some of the pent-up nervous energy thrumming inside of me and when I wrap my fingers around my wrist, I look down and frown. For a moment, I'm so angry because Peyton has something to always remind her of Edward, something she has no matter where she is and I'm ridiculously jealous of my own daughter. It's just a flash, but it shakes me enough that I have to force myself to take a few deep breaths.
I try to think about having hot chocolate in front of the fireplace sitting next to him while Peyton does her homework. I think about wrapping presents with him late at night after Peyton's gone to sleep, laughing about the fact that we have to double and triple wrap things and camouflage them inside of different-shaped boxes and containers because she guesses everything and spoils the surprise. I even feel myself smile a tiny bit when I think about how his face lights up at the prospect of building a snowman when we get the first significant snowfall.
It works … for a while at least, until Mom's cell phone rings.
"Oh, God, please," I whisper as I weave between the tables to get to her.
I watch her and every breath that leaves my body is a whoosh of air when I see her face turn white and the phone falls from her hand and skitters across the floor.
Mom looks at me and says, "They've lost contact with the Isabella Marie."
Jasper POV
"Em, he's right there! Get the gaff ready! Charlie, get us closer!" This is the first time I've had to use all that I learned from the countless explanations and demonstrations both Charlie and Emmett have drilled me on over the years. After what happened to Evan, there wasn't any way anyone was ever stepping foot on the Isabella Marie that didn't know how to perform a water rescue.
He's been in the water for five minutes. We don't have much longer before it's going to be too late and it can't be too late. I refuse to let myself think about that. I have to concentrate on getting him out of the water. We have to get him out.
Charlie is yelling over the speaker that he can see Edward and I never take my eyes off of him. I can't lose him in the waves. Emmett's standing beside me with the gaff and we're only going to have one chance to snag Edward and get him on this boat … alive.
I can see Edward. He's not moving; he doesn't even lift his head to acknowledge our approach or our voices. I don't think he's actually aware of anything, but I have to hope he's aware enough to grab the life preserver. I send up a quick prayer and get ready to throw.
"Get ready, Em! This is it!" I yell above the crashing of the waves. With all that I have in me, I throw the life preserver and luckily it lands directly on Edward.
"Edward, grab the ring! Edward! You have to grab the ring!" He isn't moving other than with the rise and fall of the waves.
Suddenly I hear Charlie's voice loud and clear as it explodes over the loudspeaker. "Edward Masen, you grab that fucking ring right now! Don't you dare leave Bella and Peyton! You promised you would be okay. They need you and you need them. Grab that fucking ring right this second!"
I'm not sure anyone will ever know what gave him the strength to do it, but slowly he puts his arm through the ring. As soon as I can tell he'll be able to hang on, I start pulling him closer so Em can hook Edward with the gaff. I know it's going to take both of us to pull him on board and with the boat lurching from side to side, we're going to have to time it just right. I pull Edward until he's within reach of the gaff and Emmett hooks him just like he has done a multitude of times with a lobster pot. I drop the rope and grab another part of the gaff to help Emmett pull Edward up.
With all that we have, we both pull as Charlie hollers over the speaker for us to get him up before the next big wave hits us. We both see it coming. What I don't realize at the time is that it will be our saving grace. The wave brings Edward's body up high enough that we can grab his arms.
"Don't let go, Jasper! Don't let go of him!" Emmett yells. As soon as the boat rocks, we pull Edward over the railing of the boat and finally have him on deck. At least he's out of the water.
"We have to get him below deck and get him out of these clothes!" I tell Em as we both grab him and drag him across the deck.
"Fuck! The radio is out! I set off the EPIRB! The Coast Guard should be on its way! Get him warm!" Charlie tells us.
Emmett and I hurriedly get Edward's wet clothes off of him and wrap him in all the blankets we have on hand.
"Edward! Wake up, man! Come on! You need to wake up." Emmett shakes him and tries to get him to respond. His lips are blue and he isn't shivering. This isn't a good sign.
"Shit, man, he's bleeding," I exclaim when I spy a gash across Edward's forehead. I grab the first aid kit and press some gauze to the cut. He's so cold; his body temperature is so low that the blood is little more than a trickle. Normally head wounds bleed like fucking crazy and seeing the blood ooze instead of spew is just one more indication of how serious the situation is. While I tend to the head wound, Emmett covers Edward's hands and feet with socks and gloves to try to stave off any chance of frostbite. I'm not sure it will work, but we have to try.
Emmett groans when he pressed his fingers to the inside of Edward's wrist to check his pulse. "It's low, man, too fucking low." Emmett's voice is barely more than a whisper and he hangs his head.
"We are not losing him, Emmett," I tell him and don't try in the least to temper my voice. "We just have to get him to hang on until the helicopter gets here." I feel so fucking useless, rubbing my hands up and down Edward's arms and legs, but there's nothing else I can do.
He's as still as a board, which is the worst possible thing and between that, the fact the head wound isn't bleeding like it should and his low pulse, every minute it takes for the helicopter to get here is a minute too long. His breathing is shallow, his eyes are unresponsive and I know that for as long as I live, I'll never be able to forget how he looks.
"Emmett, Jasper, how is he?" Charlie calls down to us.
I look at Emmett and say, "Go. Tell him everything and see if there's any indication of how far out the chopper is. He doesn't have long, Em, before he goes into shock. If that happens here, there isn't anything we can do for him."
"Hang in there, Edward. You mean too much to too many people to give up. Fight, damn it. I know you can hear me. Don't you give up," I hiss at him. I close my eyes and pray. I haven't prayed since I was a little kid hiding in my closet so my father wouldn't find me, but for Edward, I'll say a whole rosary if I have to.
I listen as Edward's breathing becomes more labored and he's turned from blue to white. I furiously rub everywhere I can reach, ignoring the fact he's naked beneath the layers of blankets. The storm is right on top of us now, not caring a damn a bit that Edward is hanging on by a thread.
I don't have any idea how long I stay below with Edward and I can only hope that the reason Emmett is still with Charlie is because they are getting ready for the chopper to approach. Finally, what seems like an eternity later, I hear Emmett yell down to me, "They're coming," before he clambers down the few stairs below deck. We hurriedly throw some sweats and a sweatshirt on him and he's every bit as limp as was when we pulled him out of the water.
"Wrap him tight, Em," I tell him, as I put another pair of socks on his feet.
We get ready to pick him up when I spy something on the ground by his leg.
"Aw, hell, Emmett." I point with a shaky hand and then pick up the item off the floor. "It's P's shell. He must've had it in his pocket."
Out of everything that has happened over the past however many minutes, seeing that shell hits Emmett and me harder than anything.
Gently, almost tenderly, Emmett takes the shell from me and tucks it in his pocket. He leans over and kisses Edward on the side of the head and whispers, not even checking to see if I can hear and not caring that there are tears streaming down his cheeks. "I'm going to hang on to this for you, brother, so that when you wake up in the hospital, because you will wake up, I can give it back to you."
I give him a moment to look at Edward before I urge him to help me get him up to the deck. I can hear the helicopter as we step onto the deck and already the line is being lowered. Once they're close enough, the line falls to the deck and a medic repels down the line.
"What's the situation?" the guy asks as he looks around quickly.
We give him the basic information and he relays it to the chopper so they can send down the rescue stretcher. Laying Edward into the basket is probably the hardest thing I've ever done in my life and from the way Emmett hangs on to the side a few beats longer than necessary tells me he feels the same way. We watch as Edward is lifted through the screaming wind and the driving rain, each silently praying that nothing happens for the few minutes he's suspended in the air, epitomizing the phrase hanging by a thread. Letting him go and trusting someone else to keep him safe and alive, even though it's what the Coast Guard is trained to do goes against every protective instinct I have.
I let out a tension-relieving breath once he's inside and I see Emmett do the same. We watch them fly off toward Bar Harbor, and continue to do so until the chopper disappears, leaving us both in a sort of stunned state.
It still hasn't fully hit me yet what's just happened, and when Charlie tells us to move our asses and get the rest of the trawl lines up so we can head back to shore, I know it will be longer still.
BPOV
Silence, interrupted periodically with bouts of static sets every nerve on its end.
I can't feel my fingers because one hand is squeezing Xavier's hand with every ounce of strength I have and the other is having the same done to it by Alice.
"Approaching the Isabella Marie," sounds from the scanner and there is a collective gasp from all of us huddled around it.
No one speaks as we wait for more information. "The crew is on the deck. Preparing to lower a rescuer to assess the situation. Stand by."
The wait is excruciating. I feel like I'm about to come out of my skin and then we hear, "Boat not incapacitated, but there is an injury on board. Sending rescue stretcher. Prepare for further information."
"Oh, God," my mom utters and our eyes meet.
Dad, Jasper, Emmett, or Edward. Who is it? There's not a sound made, save for our breathing and the quiet prayers each of us begin to say. It doesn't matter who it is that's injured, we'll all be affected.
After what seems like an interminable wait, the staticy voice speaks again. "We have a male on board, mid to late twenties. Patient knocked overboard and spent approximately seven minutes in the water." At this, my heart stops, as I'm sure everyone else's does as well.
The detached voice continues relaying more devastating but pertinent information. "Patient showing signs of severe hypothermia. Male is unconscious, breathing is shallow. Pulse slow and body temperature is eighty-six degrees. Glucose IV started. Patient has head wound but the bleeding is controlled."
I close my eyes and futilely try to stem the flow of tears. A brief look around the table lets me know the others are losing the same battle.
"En route to Mt. Desert Island Hospital, approximately thirty minutes out."
Immediately, I begin to make arrangements in my head for Peyton and calculate how long it will take to get to Bar Harbor. With the storm raging outside, the hour-long trip is liable to take longer than that.
There's a loud sound as the radio is engaged once again and we hear, "Patient is one Edward Masen."
My stomach retches and if I wasn't being held between Xavier and Alice, there's no way I'd still be upright.
Seconds pass then pandemonium erupts. I look at Mom and all she says is, "Go."
Before I even know what's happening, I'm buckled in the front seat of Xavier's truck and we're speeding out of the parking lot with Seth and Alice in the backseat. I don't even remember Seth being at The Breakers.
"Bell?" Xav asks as he grips my hand in his.
I stare out the window, my mind and body in a total state of lock-down. "Mmmm mmm." I shake my head without turning to look at him.
I can't.
"We're here. We're all here," he tells me. I feel Alice lean forward and lay her hand on top of ours, but still I remain silent. I know she's hurting, she adores Edward so much, but I have no comfort to offer her. I feel Seth reach out and rub my shoulder, and a brief sense of déjà vu washes over me and sends my mind racing back to Evan.
No, no, no! I scream silently in my mind. I will not lose Edward. I can't. He promised. He promised me and he promised Peyton he would be okay, that he would come home. I will not lose anyone else.
It's the mantra I repeat the entire agonizing trip. When we pass the Bar Harbor city limit sign, my heart slams in my chest and I break out into a cold sweat. I want to cry, Lord help me I want to cry, but I don't give in. I will keep it together and be strong because it's what Edward would want me to do and it's what he needs.
"Hurry, Xav," I whisper thickly, forcing the words out of my painfully dry, tight throat.
"We're almost there, honey. Just a few more minutes," he tells me. His voice wavers, and I can tell he's trying to be strong for me.
I finally turn around slightly in my seat and look at Alice who gives me a watery smile. Her cheeks are tear-stained, I can tell as we pass under a street lamp.
"He's going to be okay, Bella. He loves you and Peyton too much not to be," she tells me in a fierce, sure voice. Her faith moves me and it gives me strength.
"You're right, Ali. He does."
Xavier lets the three of us out in front of the hospital, barely stopping before he goes to find a parking space. We race to the front desk to ask about Edward and are told he's been taken to ICU. My heart stops and my stomach drops … again, and I wonder how much more I can take. As we go up to the third floor, I tell myself to be strong.
We walk, me between the two of them, and stop at the desk to find out where Edward is.
"Edward Masen," Seth says. "He was brought in by helicopter less than an hour ago."
Xavier steps in behind us and the four of us look at the nurse, waiting for an answer. "Are you family?" she asks as her eyes widen when she looks at Xavier.
"We are," Alice answers with no hesitation whatsoever, but offers no additional explanation.
The nurse looks warily at us but then points to a waiting area. "If you'll have a seat, I'll let the doctor know Mr. Masen's family is here."
I'm frantic with worry so I pace.
And pace.
And pace some more.
"Bell, you're going to drive yourself and the rest of us crazy if you don't sit," Seth tells me.
I grunt at him, and continue pacing. I can't sit still, not when he's right down the hall. Until I see with my own two eyes that he's all right, I won't relax. I chew on my thumbnail, then alternate with my bottom lip.
"Where's Mom and Dad? They should be here by now," I mutter to no one in particular.
"We've only been here twenty minutes, Bella. The boat's not even back yet," Alice says slowly. I look at her then have to turn away when I see the pity in her eyes.
I can't see that, not yet. I'm barely hanging on as it is. I briefly think of Peyton and I have to wrap my arms around my waist to keep from falling completely apart. Oh Jesus. Just thinking of having to tell her Edward is in the hospital wrecks me.
It's blessedly only a few minutes before a doctor dressed in blue scrubs comes to the waiting room. After assuring him that we are indeed Edward's family, a point which Xavier makes quite forcefully and leaves no room for doubt, he tells us Edward's condition. Serious, but stable. Body temperature still in the danger zone but they are doing what they can to raise it. Heart rate still low, but the most serious threat of going into shock has passed. No brain damage from what they can tell since he's still unconscious. He's going to be lethargic, extremely sore, and weak when he wakes up and he has a slight concussion. All in all, he's by no means unscathed, but it could have been a lot more serious if the guys hadn't gotten him out of the water so quickly and kept him from going into shock before the helicopter arrived.
"Can I see him, please?" I beg.
My whole body aches from wanting to see him so badly. Knowing how close I came to losing him is taking its toll and I'm not sure how much longer I can fight the hysteria that wants to burst forth.
"As soon as the nurse is finished in there, you can go in, but only for a few minutes," he tells me.
~~~~OOO~~~~OOO~~~~
I hear him groan and keep my eyes locked on his face. "Open your eyes, baby. Wake up. Please wake up," I say fervently and squeeze his hand in mine.
His head slowly moves back and forth and he grimaces before he slowly opens his eyes. I gasp, and try not to shout out loud that he's awake. Inch by inch, he turns his head and our eyes meet.
"I kept my promise," he rasps … and I let the tears I've held in for hours and hours, finally fall.
~~~~OOO~~~~OOO~~~~
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