Page 104 of Finding Carly
Then she nearly panicked again. What if it was Gideon coming back? She was a sitting duck, and she knew without a doubt he wouldn’t mess around with a tranquilizer dart this time. He’d probably choke the life out of her before taking her back out to sea and making sure she sank to the bottom.
Through the misty morning, even as she tried to calm herself, Carly saw something orange and white cutting through the waves. It wasn’t coming toward her—which made her panic for an altogether different reason.
The Coast Guard boat was slowly moving through the water parallel to the island, as if it was looking for something…or someone? Carly barely dared to hope that maybe they were looking for her. Maybe they were just on a routine check of the waters around the island. But in the end, it didn’t matter what they were doing, as long as they found her.
Carly stood up, barely able to stay on her feet, and began waving her arms over her head and screaming as loud as she could. It was unlikely anyone would be able to hear her over the motor, the sound of waves against the rubber-hulled boat, but if there was even a one-percent chance they’d notice, she’d yell until she was hoarse if that was what it took.
For a terrifying moment, she thought the boat was going to keep on going. That whoever was onboard hadn’t seen or heard her.
Then, miraculously, the clouds parted momentarily—and sunlight shone on the rock. As if a flashlight was pointing straight down on the island where she’d been marooned.
The Coast Guard boat made a sudden turn…in her direction. Carly didn’t stop waving her arms and shouting, not until a loud air horn sounded from the boat. She swayed on her feet as the boat came closer and closer.
They’d seen her. Thank God!
Carly cried without any tears falling. She was too dehydrated. But she also couldn’t help smiling. She’d done it. She’d beat GideonandShawn. She wasn’t the pathetic bitch they thought she was. She might be younger, but that didn’t mean she was an idiot. Carly was proud of herself.
She dreaded what was sure to come when she got home. There would be interviews with the detective, probably reporters desperate to hear her story; she’d have to face Gideon in court, and she had a feeling she might relapse when it came to trying to gain back her independence.
But with Jag at her side, she could do anything.
Jag. God, she couldn’t stop thinking about how worried he had to be.
With that thought fresh in her mind, the first thing she said when a young man wearing an orange life jacket, blue hat, shirt, pants, and waterproof boots climbed out of the boat and came toward her was, “Call Jag!”
“Carly? Carly Stewart?” the man asked as he gently gripped her arm.
She nodded. “Please! I need to call Jag!”
“We’ll get a hold of whoever you want once we get you onboard. Can you walk?”
“Yes,” Carly said, but when she tried to take a step, her body refused to cooperate. Her knees buckled and she would’ve gone down hard if the Coastie hadn’t caught her.
“I’ve got you,” he said.
The man and two of his boatmates got her off Bird Shit Island and onto their boat. She was placed on a bench and given a warm blanket. Then someone placed a bottle of water in one of her hands and a phone in the other.
Carly was more relieved than she could say that Jag had made her memorize his number. He’d said there might come a time when she needed to dial it rather than just click on his contact. And he was right. Of course.
With her fingers shaking, she pushed the buttons to his number.
“Jag. Who is this?”
She closed her eyes. She’d never heard a better sound in her life than Jag’s voice.
“It’s me,” she eventually croaked. Her voice was shot from screaming to try to get the Coast Guard boat’s attention.
“Carly? Holy shit! Is it really you?”
“Yeah.”
“Where are you?! Are you okay? What happened?”
She wanted to answer all his questions, but her throat closed up and she was too overcome with emotion.
“Carly?Talk to me!” Jag shouted.
All Carly could do was hold the phone out to the young man who’d come onto the island to get her. She heard him talking to Jag, but she suddenly couldn’t keep her eyes open any longer. She was done. Emotionally. Physically. Mentally. All of it. But she’d made sure that Jag knew she was alive, so he wouldn’t continue to worry.
