Page 104 of Finding Elodie
“Temp’s ninety-four point three,” Pid warned.
Shit. That was way too low and they all knew it. Hypothermia usually occurred when the body temperature fell below ninety-five.
“Did you see them?” Elodie asked.
“Who?” Mustang asked, as the guys did their best to find blankets and anything else that would warm her up, or at least make sure she didn’t get any colder as they made their way to shore. Midas would be contacting EMS to ensure they were waiting for them. He’d also probably get in touch with Perry, Kahoni, and the Coast Guard as well.
“My dolphins. They chased the shark away and stayed with me when I got tired.”
“Fuck…confusion’s setting in,” Slate muttered from above him.
Mustang was well aware that when someone got too cold, they usually got confused before their body shut down completely, but this wasn’t that. He knew it.
“I saw them,” he told Elodie. He leaned down so his face was right above hers. His beard brushed against her chin as he spoke. “They led me to you. They were dancing in the waves trying to get my attention, and when I looked over at them, I saw you.”
She smiled weakly, then closed her eyes and frowned. “I’m never gonna be free.”
Mustang knew exactly what she was referring to. “The hell you aren’t,” he said forcefully. “Look at me.”
When she didn’t open her eyes, Mustang hardened his voice. “Open your eyes and look at me, Elodie.”
He waited until she did as ordered.
“I didn’t take this as seriously as I should’ve. And for that, I’m sorry. I put you in this position—but it will never happen again. The wheels are already turning to end this once and for all.”
“I’ll have to change my name again,” she whispered, her voice slurring.
“You’re right, you will,” Mustang agreed.
“Wait, what?” Aleck said, but Mustang ignored him.
He got up on one elbow and palmed Elodie’s cheek so she had no choice but to look at him. “You’ll change it to Elodie Webber. You’re gonna marry me, and we’re gonna live happily ever after.”
She shook her head. “I won’t do that to you.”
“You will,” Mustang insisted.
“Love you too much…”
“No such thing,” he told her. Mustang had no idea how much of this conversation she would remember when she was better, but he didn’t care. She was going to marry him. He couldn’t live without her. No fucking way.
“Did you just order her to marry you?” Pid asked. “Smooth, Mustang. Real fucking smooth.”
Mustang felt Elodie go limp beneath him and knew she’d lost her battle with consciousness. The others saw it too, and redoubled their efforts to keep her warm until they could get her medical attention.
Mustang turned to Slate. “You sure Tex can take care of this?”
“Positive,” Slate said. “Said he knew of at least two teams who would jump at the chance to take care of this shit. One out of Colorado Springs and another in Indianapolis. He also told me he’d be talking to Rawlins.”
“Rawlins?” Jag asked in surprise. “Dammit, I should’ve thought of him from the second this shit went down.”
Knowing Tex was on this, and that he would probably bring in Baker Rawlins—a mysterious and dangerous-as-fuck retired Navy SEAL who lived on the island—made Mustang relax a fraction. But he’d beat himself up for the rest of his life for not letting Tex do his thing in the first place. He’d been so sure he and his team would know if Columbus made a move. He’d been wrong, and he’d put Elodie’s life in jeopardy. Never again.
Paul Columbus needed to die—along with anyone else who thought his woman was expendable.
* * *
When Elodie woke up, she immediately knew she was in a hospital. She still felt as if she was bobbing up and down, but the smell of disinfectant and bleach let her know she was on terra firma.
