She could have died. She’s about my age and her life could have been over right now. I know death happens to just about anyone, anything, any time, but I’d never witnessed it. Shaken, I don’t move until the paramedics demand I give them room.
I barely even noticed them.
“That was awful.”
I turn to Claire. Has she spoken until now? I wouldn’t have noticed. “Yeah. That poor chick.”
“Do you know her?” she asks me.
“Not really. I mean, I’ve seen her around.”Only that one time.“So maybe she’s a student? I don’t know. She was fine, right? The medic said so.”
At least I think he said so.
“But she could have died. For a minute there, she was dead,” Claire whispers, just as spooked as me. “She wasn’t breathing when we got her out.”
“Yeah. Good work on the CPR, by the way. You’re definitely a handy roommate to have around.” I manage a little smile as I bring my arm to her shoulders.
She did great. It makes me want to learn CPR, too, just in case.
Now my mind’s more or less functioning, a cold awareness of the situation we find ourselves in makes me realize there’s something I need to do, little as I might like it. “I think I need to tell Cross. I mean, this is his house. He’ll be a huge dick if he finds out I was here and didn’t tell him.” I shudder at thethought. “Do you mind if I give him a quick phone call? Won’t be long.”
Claire looks like a kicked puppy. She doesn’t want to be alone. And I truly get it; I don’t want to either. But I really need to make that phone call, so when she whispers a weak, “Of course,” I pretend to believe it.
I don’t walk too far, keeping my eyes on my friend, before I dial the contact for the very first time.
He answers after three beeps. “What a surprise.”
“Listen, Cross, I’m at your house.”
His voice is as smooth and velvety as caramel. “Oh?”
“I’m at your house,” I repeat, “Because we witnessed someone jumping into your pool, and staying in it. Claire and I—we got her out. She wasn’t breathing. There’s an ambulance and the police,” I rush to say.
There’s silence on the other end of the phone for several seconds. “The police.”
“I didn’t call them,” I assure him. “I?—”
But even as I speak, I watch Claire chatting with a man in uniform. She doesn’t look like she’s enjoying the conversation, but she’s answering his questions.
Fuck. The only thing she should have said was I’m not involved. Let him know she’d talk in front of a lawyer if she pushed. This is one of the houses on the legacies’ private drive. Chattering about anything going on here can’t be good.
Why are the police even here? It’s not a criminal investigation, the woman just jumped.
“I didn’t talk to them,” I say on the phone, not adding anything about Claire. “But I don’t think there’s anyone here—I mean anyone who lives here. They might need one of you here.”
“I’m less than one minute away,” Cross informs me.
I hear the sound of a car approaching, doors shutting, and my eyes widen.
Claire’s still talking to that cop.
As Cross strolls through the gate, followed by Nate, his eyes seek mine first, but they do scan the entire area and narrow on Claire.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
11
CROSS