Chapter Twenty-Nine #2
Luke was sprawled on the deck now, clutching his ankle and grimacing at the sight of the expensive camera gear he’d lost control of in the process of the fall.
Brittany gave up hassling me and focused on making sure the equipment was okay while Eli grabbed the first-aid kit we had yet to even have time to put away, his focus on Luke now.
“Jesus Christ,” I breathed.
Then the wind picked up again.
A heavy gust slammed through the sundeck, flipping over menus, superlative cards, half the centerpiece Bernard and I had assembled with painstaking care. Linen napkins the guests had taken out of the metal rings were whipped over the railing. I scrambled after what I could, heart pounding.
My radio crackled again.
“Interior — Finn. I figured dinner out. I need ten minutes and an extra set of hands.”
“On my way,” Leah responded, and I knew from the crack in her voice that she’d been crying.
My chest tightened, but before I could think too much on it, Palmer appeared on the deck, his expression tight.
“Hey. I just spotted a vessel drifting.” He pointed off the starboard side.
“Pretty sure they pulled anchor. They’re coming toward us.
” He picked up his radio and barked into it, my skin prickled.
A drifting vessel could cause a big bill for our owners — or worse, an injury for one of us on board.
“Captain, this is Palmer on the bow. We’ve got a vessel adrift. Heading our way.”
“Good eye. I’ll try to radio them now. Grab as many fenders as you can and prepare for a collision,” Captain said back, his voice calm and even despite the possible disaster.
And that’s when I heard it.
A splash.
Distant, but distinct.
Every nerve in my body froze.
All the voices from the guests and the radio muted as I turned and ran for the swim platform, scanning wildly. My eyesight was twenty-twenty, but that didn’t mean shit now that the sun had set. I peered through the dusky night, and by some sort of miracle, I saw her.
Maria was in the water.
“Oh, God.” Panic sliced through me, and when I turned, I realized Captain had ordered the anchor up. Cameron was already working on it, probably so Captain could maneuver around the drifting vessel Palmer had spotted.
But if we started moving, we’d lose Maria. The wind was up, which meant the swell was, too.
No one had noticed — not the guests, not the producers, not a single member of our crew, who were all pulled in other directions handling chaos.
And Maria was drifting. Head dipping.
I didn’t have time to wait for someone else to help me.
“Guest in the water!” I screamed, and then picked up my radio. “Man overboard! Man overboard!”
I barely got the words out before my shoes were off, radio dropped, mic stripped. I somehow remembered my training enough to throw the life preserver in; though I knew even as I did it that it would be pointless with the swell carrying her so quickly.
And then I dove in.
The world was muffled for the brief moment I was underwater, and then I emerged to the sounds of screaming from the boat and screaming from Maria, who was at least twenty meters away from me.
I swam as hard as I could, thankful for the years of lessons I took and the rigorous training I went through before I ever worked on a boat.
Every time you trained for a situation like this, you prayed it would never happen. For many, it never would.
I didn’t have such luck.
Saltwater slapped against my face as I struggled to time my breath with the waves I was fighting against. My muscles screamed, the current strong, the light fading more and more as we rotated farther from the sun.
All I could do was keep my focus on Maria. She did her best to swim toward me while I swam toward her. It was easier for me, the waves carrying me out, but they tried to do the same to her. She fought hard.
And then she disappeared beneath the water.
My adrenaline spiked, legs kicking harder, arms swinging. I dove when I thought I was close to her, the saltwater stinging my eyes as I opened them underwater and searched for her.
She was kicking toward the surface, and I swam with all my might until I reached her.
The moment my hand reached her, hope trickled in.
We both emerged, just in time for another swell to cover us. But we spit the water out, and Maria was gasping, clinging to me, threatening to sink us both if she didn’t calm down.
I looped an arm around her chest and kicked hard for the boat. “You’re okay,” I told her, not even sure she could hear me. “I’ve got you.”
The tender reached us just as my arms began to give out.
I heard the low whir of the motor over the crashing waves and nearly sobbed in relief when I spotted Palmer at the helm, eyes wide and frantic as the boat bounced toward us. Behind him, Eli crouched at the bow, arms braced and ready.
“Ember!” Palmer shouted over the wind. “We’ve got you!”
I nodded, barely able to lift one arm in response, and then Eli reached for Maria first, hoisting her up into the tender.
As soon as she was safe, those strong arms were hauling me up and over the side of the tender like I weighed nothing. I collapsed against the cool vinyl bench, chest heaving, heart hammering against my ribs.
Eli dropped beside me, his hand on my back, breathing hard. “You alright?”
I nodded, but I was already looking for Maria.
She was curled in on herself, shivering so violently her teeth chattered. Palmer called our safety in over the radio, saying we were en route to the yacht. Captain radio’d back that the drifting vessel had responded and were no longer a threat. Anchor had been dropped again.
I held Maria’s hand and tried to comfort her while I felt my own shock settling in.
By the time we reached the swim platform, a crowd was waiting.
Captain Gary stood at the stern, expression grim as he helped pull Maria up into Cameron’s waiting arms. Cameron wrapped her in a big blanket immediately.
Cameras were rolling. Producers were whispering furiously behind them.
Tammy made a dramatic scene upon Maria’s return, crushing her in a hug that the rest of the guests side-eyed, cocktails in hand.
“What happened?!” she asked. “We were so scared!”
Maria was shivering, her eyes flicking to me. “I just slipped. I… I was looking over the edge… I thought I saw dolphins. I climbed onto the railing a bit to get a picture on my phone and…”
Tammy wrapped her in another dramatic hug, wailing.
I blinked when Palmer extended a hand for mine. He helped me climb onto the swim platform, but I was too exhausted to move past that.
“Medics are on their way,” Captain said, his voice tight. “I need to make sure the guest is okay. You need to get warm, too.” He snapped his fingers at someone. “Blankets. Hot tea. Check for injuries.”
I barely heard him, but managed a nod to let him know I was okay.
“You saved her life, Ember,” Captain said. Then he turned to tend to Maria.
And Finn was there.
He shouldered past everyone the moment Captain no longer needed me, eyes blazing as he dropped to his knees at the edge of the platform.
“Jesus, Ember—” He grabbed my face in his hands, cradling it while he looked me over like he might find a shark bite. “Are you hurt? Are you—fuck—you’re so pale. I thought—I thought—”
I couldn’t speak. Couldn’t form a single word with how my throat burned and my limbs shook. I just nodded, eyes stinging as I leaned into him.
“I thought you were gone,” he whispered, pressing his forehead to mine. “I thought the swells—Christ, I…”
His words trailed off as he kissed me — hard, desperate, not caring who was watching. I clung to him like a life raft.
“I’m okay,” I murmured, my voice barely audible. “I’m okay.”
Finn broke the kiss with a ragged breath, scanning me, searching again. Then he was up, helping me to my feet and wrapping an arm around my waist.
“Let’s get you warm. Blankets! Now!” he barked at no one in particular, voice hoarse but commanding.
Someone shoved two into his arms — Bernard, I thought — and he wrapped one around my shoulders, tugging me close again as he led me inside. My legs felt like Jell-O, and I leaned into him fully, too weak to fight the comfort of his touch.
And it was the only comfort I’d find, too.
Because not a single other member of the crew checked on me.
The medics came. Maria was cleared first and then me.
Finn’s dinner was abandoned, Captain Gary calling in a big order of pizza and fielding the guest complaints for us.
Fortunately, they were a little too busy fighting over who had been voted what in their little superlative game to care too much.
I was sure the fact that Leah kept the drinks coming didn’t hurt, either.
I felt bad for Maria. Her so-called friends were content to get right back to their vacation, no one other than Russell showing much more than a blip of concern.
Tammy stopped her fake dramatics as soon as the cameras moved their attention back to the crew, and even Russell was subdued in his concern — likely to not raise any flags with his wife.
Other than Captain Gary and Finn, no one really asked about me, either.
Palmer and Eli had checked in briefly, but it was the kind of check-in you do when protocol requires it.
Once the med team cleared me, it was as if I’d vanished — like I hadn’t just jumped into open water on a moving boat to pull a charter guest from the sea.
I didn’t expect a hero’s welcome. But I thought… I don’t know. I thought maybe Leah would’ve stopped by. Just to say hey. Just to make sure I was okay.