Chapter 286
Chapter 286
Lucy's POV
Ice-cold water shocked me awake, streaming down my face and soaking my clothes. I gasped, blinking rapidly to bring the world into focus—dark sky above, gentle rocking below. A boat. No, a yacht. Damn it, she got me onto the water!
"Finally awake, sleeping beauty?" I looked up to see Helen Wilson standing over me, still holding the empty bucket, her face twisted into a grotesque smile. Fuck, this woman again!
I quickly assessed my situation. My hands were bound behind my back, secured to a metal railing. The knots were tight but amateur—a sailor would have done better. Thank God she's not a professional. I quietly started working them loose while keeping my expression neutral.
"Helen Wilson," I said, keeping my voice steady. "Wasn't nearly killing me with a truck enough?"
She sneered, stepping closer to loom over me, hatred practically oozing from her eyes. "Lucy Owen, you're remarkably hard to kill. That truck should have flattened you." She crouched down, her face just inches from mine, and I could smell the sharp tang of alcohol on her breath. "The moment I got out of prison, all I could think about was revenge. But you disappeared overseas! I've been waiting, planning... Finally, you came back."
"Revenge for what?" I asked, still working on the knots behind my back. Just give me another minute...
Helen's eyes flashed with hatred as she abruptly stood up and began pacing the deck, her fingers twisting nervously together. "You ruined EVERYTHING! You killed my daughter!" She suddenly stopped and turned to me, her voice quivering. "I couldn't even find her body!"
I frowned, "I've said this before—I didn't kill her!"
"If not you, then WHO, you vicious bitch?" Helen spat, tears gathering in her eyes. "I lost EVERYTHING because of you!"
The last knot came loose. I kept my hands in position, as if still bound, waiting for the right moment. Patience, Lucy, wait until she gets closer...
"You blame me?" I asked, buying time. "All of this is your own doing."
"SHUT UP!" she screamed, spittle flying from her lips, her hands clenching into fists as she pounded them against the railing. "Everything was PERFECT before you came along! Ivy would have married Ethan, the Wilson and Storm fortunes would have merged, and I would have controlled it all!" Her face contorted with rage, eyes bloodshot. "Then YOU showed up, stole Ethan, and ruined EVERYTHING!"
She suddenly grabbed a fistful of my hair, yanking my head back, making me gasp with pain. "Ivy died in these waters—alone, her body probably eaten by sharks! Why should you live happily? Tonight, you'll join her, and her spirit will finally rest!"
She dragged me toward the edge of the yacht, struggling under my weight. I let her pull me, waiting until we reached the railing to make my move. The black water churned below, the distant lights of shore looking impossibly far away. Wait for it...
"Any last words, bitch?" Helen hissed, pushing me toward the railing, nothing but murderous hatred in her eyes.
I gave a cold smile, suddenly breaking free of my restraints and spinning around. "Just one question: how did you tie these knots so badly?"
Her eyes widened in confusion, mouth slightly open, unable to process what was happening. I took advantage of that split second of shock, grabbing her wrist and twisting hard while simultaneously kicking at her knee. She lost her balance, pitching forward, and I used her own momentum to flip our positions. Now she was the one pinned against the railing, panic flooding her features, eyes wide with fear.
"How did you—I tied them so tight!" she gasped, disbelief filling her voice.
"Two years overseas taught me some survival skills," I said calmly, tightening my grip as she struggled, my fingers digging into her wrists. "Including how to escape amateur restraints."
Her eyes shifted from fear to wild rage, suddenly struggling like a woman possessed. "Let GO of me! You BITCH! You can't do this to me!"
In her desperate attempt to break free, she lost her balance. I felt her start to go over the railing and instinctively reached to grab her—but couldn't stop her fall and instead was pulled into the water with her.
The impact with the cold water knocked the air from my lungs. Darkness swallowed us both, salt water burning my eyes as I kicked desperately toward the surface. God, it's freezing! When I broke through, gasping for air, I saw Helen struggling nearby, her movements growing weaker.
In the distance, police boats approached rapidly, sirens cutting through the night. Helen saw them too, and something in her expression changed—a terrible calm settled over her face as she stopped struggling and began to sink. She's trying to kill herself!
I dragged myself back onto the yacht, water streaming from my clothes, as police boats surrounded us. They managed to fish Helen out of the water, but the fight had completely gone out of her, her eyes vacant as if her soul had already departed.
---
I huddled on the dock, wrapped in a rough emergency blanket, my body still shaking despite its warmth. The seawater made my skin sting, each breath burning my lungs. Through exhausted eyes, I looked up and froze.
Ethan.
He stood there, tall and imposing against the darkening sky, his face pale with concern, hands clenching and unclenching nervously at his sides. My heart traitorously skipped a beat, and I ruthlessly squashed the feeling down.
What the hell is he doing here? Did he call the police?
His brow was furrowed with anxiety, lips pressed into a tight line. Was he worried about me?
"Are you hurt?" his voice was hoarse.
My throat tightened at his words, and I shook my head, too exhausted to speak.
He reached out, offering me my phone with its shattered screen. I noticed the slight tremor in his fingertips, and how quickly he withdrew his hand when I took the phone, as if afraid to touch me for too long.
"Your phone," he said simply.
"Thanks," I said softly, studying him as I took it. Why are you so contradictory? Cold one moment, caring the next. "You went to the lookout to find me?"
"Yes." His expression was unreadable, but his eyes darted around, refusing to meet mine directly. What was he so afraid of?
"Don't worry about that now. There's an RV over there with hot water. Go take a shower before you catch pneumonia."
As the scalding water washed over my body, rinsing away salt and fear, my thoughts kept returning to Ethan's contradictory behavior.
None of this makes sense. He pushes me away, parades another woman in front of me, is so determined to divorce me, yet he's the first to come running when I'm in danger to make sure I'm safe.
I rested my forehead against the shower wall, letting my hot tears mix with the falling water. The pressure of confusion and hurt weighed heavily on my chest.
What game are you playing, Ethan Storm? If you've let go, if you're so desperate to walk away, why do you still look at me like that?
Wrapped in a soft towel, I picked up my phone. My fingers hovered over the contacts.
I needed answers.