Chapter 145
Chapter 145:
The noise around him — the helicopter overhead, the slap of waves against the hull, Elia’s fading cries — receded to nothing.
He looked over at Cailin’s unconscious form lying a few feet away on the deck.
The sound of boots hitting fiberglass broke through. Kegan landed on the deck from his boat, moving fast. He straightened and scanned the scene.
His eyes found Hilliard.
Then they dropped to the birthmark.
Then back to Hilliard.
He understood immediately what he was seeing.
Medics swarmed the deck, moving with practiced efficiency. Cailin was wrapped in thermal blankets immediately, an oxygen mask fitted over her face. Hilliard ignored the medic trying to examine him and stumbled toward Elia, who was coughing up seawater, her small body shaking violently.
Cailin, barely conscious, fought against the hands trying to hold her still. “Elia,” she rasped — a ghost of a sound through the oxygen mask. She dragged herself across the wet deck on her hands and knees, ignoring the screaming pain in her hip and the fire tearing through her lungs, until she reached the child’s side.
She shoved her own soaked coat aside and pulled the thermal foil tighter around Elia’s shoulders. Her hands moved over the girl with a frantic, practiced knowledge — checking pulse, breathing, pupils — that made Hilliard’s blood run cold.
“Mommy… cold…” Elia’s teeth chattered, the sound sharp and relentless.
𝘛𝘩𝖾 𝘣𝗲𝗌𝘁 𝗿𝗲𝖺𝖽i𝗻𝗴 𝖾𝗑р𝗲𝗋і𝖾ո𝗰𝖾 𝘰ո
“I know, baby. I know. I’m here.” Cailin pressed her lips to Elia’s forehead again and again, her wet hair plastering against the child’s skin. “You’re safe. I’ve got you p>
A shadow fell across them.
Hilliard stood over them, dripping, his bespoke suit ruined and clinging to a frame that had gone rigid with a terrible, dawning clarity. He watched the way Cailin’s hands moved over Elia — the way she curved her own shaking body around the child like a shell. It wasn’t merely protective. It was possessive. Primal.
“Is she okay?” His voice came out rough, as though it had been dragged over gravel.
Cailin didn’t acknowledge him. Her entire world had contracted to the shivering child in front of her. “I need more blankets! Now!” she screamed at one of Kegan’s men, her voice cracking at the edges.
“Cailin.” Hilliard stepped closer. His hand closed around her upper arm — warm, shockingly warm against her ice-cold skin.
She flinched and tore her arm away as if burned. “Don’t touch me,” she hissed, her eyes never leaving Elia.
He didn’t retreat. He shifted, planting himself in her path as she reached for the medical kit. “You jumped into the ocean. You have pneumonia. You could have died p>
“I didn’t think,” Cailin said, her focus absolute, her fingers tucking a wet strand of hair gently behind Elia’s ear.
“Exactly,” Hilliard said, his voice dropping to a low and dangerous register. “You didn’t think. You just reacted.” He crouched, bringing his face level with hers. Water dripped from his hair and landed on her cheek, mixing with the salt spray already there. “Why? Why risk your life like that for Ashely’s daughter p>