Chapter 20
The raft gets closer with every rotation of my arms, every fluttering kick of my feet. My body’s tiring, slowing down, as I fight to press forward. Skimming up through the waters next to me, Brad lessens his pace. “We’re almost there, red. Keep going.”
“I just need a minute.”
“We don’t have a minute,” he shouts, spittle flying from his lips as his eyes dart behind me. “Go!”
Okay, fuck. I just wanted a minute to catch my breath and calm my racing heart. But apparently that’s too much to ask as the storm rages harder, waves increasing in size.
I check where the yellow boat is, then get myself moving again. Brad keeps pace with me instead of sliding back to the rear.
His eyes are on me every time I bring my face up for air. I try to focus on my form, keeping straight on top of the water, instead of half my body fighting beneath the surface. However, his unrelenting gaze makes my pace falter as the attention unnerves me further.
A muffled yell makes its way to me through the water crashing around my ears. I stop my movements, pushing the hair back from my face. Before I can clear my vision, I’m yanked back against Brad’s hard chest. The life vest jams into my throat again, and I lose my breath for a moment.
“Go! And don’t look back!” Brad yells over the wind, pushing me forward, back into motion in the direction of the raft. It’s so close I could cry from relief.
Sam leans over the side, extending his hand.
So close.
Almost there.
His fingers brush against mine, just out of reach.
Chelsea’s ear-piercing pitch slices through the storm, stealing my attention.
But she’s not looking at me.
It’s not relief on her face.
It’s fear.
“Come on!” Sam screams, almost falling off the side as he over extends his arm.
Reaching up, I try to grasp the emergency tether along the rim of the raft. Every rise and dip of the water works against me. Brad lingers at my side, not willing to abandon me to the ocean’s clutches.
His hands grip my hips beneath the water, sacrificing his ability to keep himself afloat as he thrusts me out of the water, onto the edge of the raft.
I scramble for purchase, frozen fingers curling around the emergency rope.
The wound on my hand screams in protest as blood spills freely from the gash, spreading over the bright yellow siding.
Brad pushes against my thighs as Sam’s hands slip against my wet skin. It’s his fault I’m nearly naked with nothing to grip onto.
“Brad!” Sam yells.
Then suddenly, Brad’s supportive touch is gone.
“No!” Despair is scrawled across Sam’s face when I look up, and I whip my gaze behind me. Brad’s been pushed out by another violent churn of the ocean.
Gripping onto the band on my shorts, Sam hauls my exhausted body into the boat. Coughing and sputtering, I try to catch my breath. Sam’s lips plant roughly against mine. “I thought I was going to lose you,” he breathes, forehead landing against mine.
Get the fuck off me.
I wait for Sam to return to the edge, to help his friend to safety. But he’s not moving, and I can’t for the life of me figure out why.
Where’s Brad?
We all have to show up together, or Chelsea and I will suffer the consequences.
I crawl to the lip of the raft, looking out to the ocean around us. Brad’s nowhere to be seen.
Until a hand shoots out of the water, almost squashed by the rocking vessel I’m in.
I reach for him, gripping him by the wrist as his fingers coil around mine, digging into the wound of his making. “Sam!” I scream. “Help!”
He drops the oar, sliding across the dark floor on his knees toward me. Leaning over, he reaches for Brad’s other hand. Together we get his head above water.
His gaze is darting left and right, head on a swivel.
Brad’s breath catches, eyes widening in fear as he ensnares my gaze with his.
I pull with everything I have, Sam and I working together to haul his friend’s hulking, tattooed body into the dingy.
Then he’s gone.
Fingers ripped from mine in a flash of silver and teeth.