Chapter 6 - The Breaking Point

Time seemed to fracture.
Rocco lunged forward with superhuman speed, diving across the icy wooden planks just as Bianca slipped over the edge of the pier. His fingers grazed the fabric of her sweater, but the momentum carried her downward toward the freezing, violent dark water.
Without a fraction of a second’s hesitation, Marin sprinted past Rocco, dropping flat onto the ice-covered wood and sliding over the edge just as Bianca hit the water.
“Grab my wrist!” Marin screamed, plunging her arms down into the freezing lake.
Bianca surfaced, gasping desperately for air, her hands flailing in the dark, icy swells. She lunged upward, her fingers catching hold of Marin’s wrist with a death grip.
The weight of the freezing water and the pull of the undertow dragged against Marin with terrifying force. She felt her shoulder pop as the strain threatened to pull her over the edge as well.
Then, strong, iron-grip hands clamped around Marin’s waist.
Rocco anchored them both, his muscles straining against the cold and the wind as he heaved upward with a roar of pure adrenaline. With one massive pull, Rocco hauled both Marin and his sister back over the wooden railing and onto the relative safety of the pier.
All three of them collapsed onto the freezing, wet wood, coughing and shivering violently.
Rocco immediately pulled Bianca into his arms, crushing her against his chest as he wrapped his heavy jacket around her trembling shoulders. “I’ve got you,” he whispered over and over, his voice cracking with tears he didn't try to hide. “I’ve got you, B. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
Bianca buried her face in her brother’s shirt, sobbing uncontrollably, the last six years of anger, isolation, and illness finally washing away in the freezing rain.
Marin lay a few feet away, her breathing ragged, clutching her throbbing shoulder.
A sharp sound from the end of the pier made her look up.
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Standing at the entrance of the boardwalk, illuminated by the security lights cutting through the storm, was Victor Hale.
He was holding an umbrella, his dark suit immaculate, watching the scene with a cold, detached expression that sent a shiver straight down Marin’s spine. He didn't look like a partner concerned for a drowning girl. He looked like an auditor watching an asset fail.