Nick's POV
The moment the boat docked, I tore away from Liam and Vicky's grasp and sprinted toward the edge of the pier. My heart hammered against my ribs, my vision tunneling until all I could see was the white hull bumping softly against the dock.
"Nick, wait!" Liam shouted, but I didn't listen.
I jumped down onto the deck, the impact shooting pain up my legs, but I didn't care. "Where is she?!" I shouted at the coast guards. My voice was raw, cracking from hours of screaming her name into the sea.
One of them, an older man with a weathered face, lifted his hands, trying to calm me. "Sir, please—"
"Where is she?!" I barked again, stumbling toward the two black bags lying at the center of the deck. "Tell me this isn't her. Tell me!"
The salty scent of seawater and death hit me as I knelt beside the first bag. My fingers trembled violently as I reached for the zipper.
"Nick…" Liam's voice was low, almost pleading. "Don't—"
But it was too late. I pulled it open.
