Tripping (Iced #2) - Kristine Allen Page 0,24

Now at eighteen, the hold she had over me was unbreakable.

Yet no matter how much I wanted to sit on the bank and lace up my skates that were always in my trunk, I was worried. She shouldn’t be out there.

“Cassidy, get off the ice and I’ll take you to the Midway.” It was our favorite place to eat.

She pouted comically, and I had to laugh. “Stop. That’s not going to get you your way.”

“Ugh! You’re no fun at all.” She skated back and forth in a graceful way despite the rough natural ice. She went into another spin that she tightened into a blurring scratch spin.

“Goddamn it, Cassidy,” I growled, despite how beautiful it was to watch. Preparing to physically go get her, I stepped on the ice. Maybe five steps out, I heard a crack and my heart froze. My gaze dropped down to the blue ice below me. It was firm, but when I raised my eyes, Cassidy was falling backward.

“Cassidy!” I shouted as I realized her blade was in a crack on the ice and she slammed down. One second she was lying flat on the ice, the next she was disappearing under the surface, hands the last thing I saw as I tried to move closer.

Panic set in. “No!” I screamed.

I pulled out my phone and called for help. I was trying to inch my way to her as I told them where to find us. Within ten feet of where she’d gone under, I started to see hairline cracks on the surface.

Her head bobbed up as she choked and called to me in a garbled panic. “Cameron!”

“Cass, calm down. Try not to panic.” Easier said than done, because I was losing my shit. “Try to get your upper body out!” Her hands clawed at the surrounding ice, but it was crumbing as she tried to pull herself up. Her cries echoed over the lake.

“Tread water. Help is coming, baby!” Her head went under again, and I cried out. The operator on the line was talking, but I couldn’t concentrate on her as I tried to figure out what I could do to get to Cassidy.

I dropped to my stomach to scoot closer, but there was no way. The ice started to crack under my weight when I got within six feet of her. One of my hands went through the ice, and I jerked it out with a sharp inhale. The same reflex that had probably gripped Cassidy when she fell through. Scooting backward to a more stable spot, I hated that I was helpless to do anything.

I’d never been so afraid in my life. The sirens coming closer registered, and I looked over my shoulder. There was still no one there, and I couldn’t safely get any farther than I was.

Fuck.

Her head bobbed up with a gasping cough, and she reached for the edge, only to have it break off in her hand and send her under again. Tears were running down my face, but I ignored them as I called for her over and over.

“Cassidy!” I shouted when she didn’t come back up. “Cassidy!”

Again and again, I screamed her name.

The rest of that day was a blur. The hospital, people talking to me, Cassidy’s parents crying, yelling at me and blaming me for her being on the ice. In shock, I couldn’t defend myself. I mutely sat there and took their blame. Until my parents arrived, and my father quietly spoke to them and took me home.

That season was one of the most difficult of my life, but focusing every molecule of my being on hockey was the only thing that saved me. Sanity was dependent on having the game and practice to focus on. My parents had begged me to talk to a therapist, but I refused, not feeling I had the right to be absolved.

When Bleu had fallen back, it was like dèjá vu, and I’d frozen for a split second, rendering me unable to catch her. The situations were nothing alike, but my mind hadn’t been able to separate the two.

A deep shuddering inhale was followed by a shaky exhale as I scrubbed my hands over my face. Thank God Bleu was okay. There had been no danger of her going through the ice, but it hadn’t seemed like it at the time. I seriously freaked the fuck out.

“Have you called her?” Alex asked, and I met his worried gaze. That look on his face told me I’d been