Chapter 18
The buoyant life jacket works against the pressure of the ocean, floating me toward the surface while I furiously kick my legs. Salt water stings my eyes when I force them open, vision blurry and obscured by the rapidly rising air bubbles.
How long can I hold my breath? I haven’t timed myself since I was a child, playing mermaids in the backyard pool with Chelsea. My lungs beg for the urge to replenish their oxygen, but I withstand the tightened burning in my chest. Working my body through the current.
A shadow comes for me, followed by a sharp tug on the back of the life jacket, hauling me into the fresh briny air.
Gasping, I suck in a breath, nose filling with water as I bob along behind Brad. He’s a strong swimmer, pulling me through the increasingly choppy waters.
Another jerk on the tether digs the front of the vest into my throat, and I cough, sputtering against the tape starting to lose its stickiness. My body floats into Brad’s, his skin warm against mine as he treads water, observing me.
“Do you know how to swim?” he inquires. I nod shakily as a wave crashes into us.
The winds have shifted. The once sheltered side of the ship now taking on the brunt of the oncoming storm.
One hand of his raises above the surface, while the other works in tune with his legs to keep his head above water.
“If you scream, I’ll drown you. Which leaves your sister on the hook to earn twice as much.
” Another nod from me has him pulling the tape from my lips. Finally, I can breathe deeply.
“Sam can’t control the raft alone in this weather, and I’m not making any progress pulling you along. So, we need to swim for it.”
Brad observes me with those dark, soulless eyes. Probably weighing his options of leaving me alone to fend for myself. Luckily, I’m a decent swimmer when my hands aren’t tied behind my back.
Despite the burning in my thighs from the exertion of keeping myself afloat, my whole body chills when Brad raises a knife out of the water. “I’m going to cut you free. Swim for the raft.” He points the tip of the knife to the yellow spec floating in the distance. The feat seems near unachievable.
“Wouldn’t it make more sense to swim for shore?”
“You’d like that wouldn’t you?”
“What I’d like is to not drown.”
“If we show up without them, we’re dead. And they’ll be hunted until they are. Or vice versa.”
Brad turns my body, hands reaching down to sever the tape from my wrists.
His legs smack into mine beneath the surface as he uses my buoyancy to keep afloat while laying his weight into my binding.
Another wave crashes into us, jostling our floating bodies.
Sharp pain rips through my hand, shooting up my arm. “Ahhh! What the fuck?!” I half-scream.
“Shhh!” he hisses.
“Did you just fucking cut me? In the fucking ocean!” I growl, turning my sights over my shoulder to him.
“What?” he genuinely asks, briefly catching my gaze. Brad grabs hold of my wrists beneath the water, pulling them apart and tearing through the last of the tape.
Twisting back to him, I raise my hands. Not allowing myself a moment to bask in the freedom, the tension unwinding itself from my shoulders. Blood streams down my wet arm, leaking from a deep cut marring the heel of my hand up to the wrist.
“Swim,” he breathes, fear seeping into his eyes as they dart between the wound and my face. “Sam’s closer now. Swim.”
Without hesitation, I cast my sights around, spotting that yellow bobbing boat, and taking off toward it with all the energy I have left.