Chapter Eight
Everything weighed so heavy in this moment and I was beginning to feel the downside weighing me down, and it was all my fault.
It was Emma's fault too, because she pushed me to click on the button without allowing me to contemplate harder on what it'd feel like being here and if this is really the place for me.
I don't know why I set myself up for the facade only for it to end like this and not the other part she raved about.
The cool air rushed past me when Syx walked the opposite way, towards the doorway.
I glanced over my shoulder, with my heart still stinging, and shot daggers at his back, because he was so fucking harsh.
Though he wasn't wrong because I needed a reality check, but he didn't have to say it like that.
Syx's broad shoulders were wider than the door frame, but that didn't stop him from exiting.
"I need an answer in the morning Nyne," he called out, along with his heavy footsteps that carried him halfway.
No longer feeling his presence, I snatched my eyes away from the door as if he would appear back in the room with me and wiped the tears that continued to bravely cascade down my face, smearing my tinted foundation.
After getting myself together, I washed my makeup off and slid a swimsuit over my naked body before sliding out of my pajamas.
The sand was warm beneath my bare feet as I made my way down to the water's edge.
The sky had turned gray while I'd been standing on the dock, heavy clouds rolling in from the horizon, but the birds were still out.
There were seagulls circling overhead, and sandpipers darting along the shoreline.
My grandma had taught me that birds didn't come out in the rain, that they knew to seek shelter.
So, if the birds are still flying then I'm safe.
I spotted a piece of driftwood half-buried in the sand and pulled it free. The wood was smooth and weathered, perfect for what I needed to do. Kneeling down, I began to write in the sand. My hand moved carefully with finesse, in slow, deliberate strokes.
Nyne.
My name in cursive, the letters flowed and connected, claiming this moment and this decision as my own. I stared at it for a long moment, watching the way the shadows fell across the curves and loops of the letters.
Snatching my gaze away, the water removed it just as quick as I wrote it, creating a fade in the beige sand.
Despite the gray sky, the water was inviting.
I'd always loved swimming. When I was seven years old, I learned at the YMCA.
During the summer, my mama paid for lessons.
Since then, I'd been good at it. I've always enjoyed the feeling of being in the water and the way it held me.
Right now, I needed that feeling. I needed to be held by something that wouldn't judge me and wouldn't ask me to make impossible choices.
I walked into the water, getting my feet wet, before inching further.
The coolness shocked my system, making me gasp, but I kept going until the water reached my waist, then my chest. Then I dove under, letting the ocean swallow me whole.
The silence underwater was absolute and so peaceful, that I could see myself swimming for hours.
I opened my eyes and saw nothing but murky blue-green and the sand stirred up by the incoming tide.
Swimming deeper, my arms cut through the water with practiced ease, my legs kicking in steady rhythm.
This was what I needed. I needed to feel my body working and the physical exertion to quiet the chaos in my mind.
Should I stay or should I go?
Syx's ultimatum ran through my head like a broken record.
Each repetition made my chest feel tighter and my breathing harder.
I surfaced, gasping for air and realized I'd swum farther out than I intended.
The beach house looked small from here and the dock was barely visible.
Then I felt a few drops of rain touch the sides of my face.
They were heavy and cold. I got a glimpse at the sky and saw that the clouds had darkened considerably.
The gray turned to charcoal and the birds were suddenly nowhere to be seen.
Immediately, I turned around and started swimming back.
My strokes were strong and almost in a millisecond, I felt resistance.
The tide had shifted and the current was pulling against me, pushing me back with each stroke forward, but I kicked harder, pulled faster, but it was like swimming through molasses.
Now, the rain came harder, pelting the surface of the water, making it difficult to see.
Thunder began to rumble in the distance, low and ominous.
Still, I pushed myself harder and harder, so hard I could feel my muscles burning and my lungs screaming for air.
No matter how hard I pushed, the tide was relentless, growing heavier with each passing second.
For every three strokes forward, I was pushed back two.
The shore didn't seem to be getting any closer.
Another crack of thunder frightened me. This one was much louder and felt closer.
Now the sky had turned an ugly greenish-black.
It was the kind of color that meant serious weather was coming.
The waves were getting bigger, choppier, slapping me against the face and filling my mouth with salt water.
Panic started to creep in, relentless and evil, feeling cold and sharp in my chest too.
The thought of dying like this hit me with absolute clarity, cutting through the panic like a knife.
This isn't what I planned and God knows I don't deserve to die like this.
So, I kept swimming, determined to turn over my fate, even though my body was screaming at me to stop.
The rain was coming down in sheets now and the thunder was constant.
The lightning flashed so bright it hurt my eyes.
Massively, the waves were lifting me up and slamming me down as I struggled to breathe.
I struggled to open my eyes too and the pang of hope wilted away in an instant.
My body wanted to give up, because I was feeling weak and nature was disowning me.
I wouldn't be able to defeat this battle.
I've always lived right, and treated people fairly, amid being dealt a few shitty cards in life.
I've treated my friends and family with respect and pay my tithes.
Regrettably, I missed a few Sundays at church and maybe that's why God was punishing me now.
Then suddenly, there was light in the darkness.
It was small at first and barely visible through the rain and the waves, but it was there and my mind wasn't playing tricks on me.
I tried swimming towards it as the light was getting closer, but everything was cold, dark and wet and I was so fucking tired of swimming, that I wanted to give up, but I couldn't stop.
The sky was pitch black now, the only illumination coming from that single light cutting through the storm.
As it got closer, I realized what it was.
It was the same boat that had brought me to the island a week ago.
The white hull, the blue trim, the covered cabin.
I recognized it even in the darkness, and the relief that flooded through me was so intense it made me sob.
I tried to call out, but my voice was lost in the wind and the thunder.
I waved my arms, but I wasn't sure if anyone could see me in the dark water.
The boat was getting closer, but not fast enough.
I was sinking and I felt my body giving up and my muscles refused to work anymore, but then in the blink of an eye, something flew through the air toward me.
It was a life buoy. The loud orange color, outlined in white, attached to a rope, landed in the water just a few feet away.
I lunged for it and closed my fingers around the hard plastic and held on with every ounce of strength I had left.
The rope went taut and I felt myself being pulled through the water as the waves still battered me but were no longer dragging me under.
I couldn't see who'd thrown it, because my vision was too blurry to make out anything clear.
The only thing I could make out was the life buoy and the boat looming over me.
When I reached the side of the boat, hands grabbed me out of the water, with strong force.
It was multiple sets lifting me out of the water with a strength I didn't have anymore.
Feeling myself being hauled over the side, I felt the hard deck beneath me as I collapsed, coughing up sea water as my whole body violently shook.
"Get her inside, now!" Someone shouted over the storm. "Get her warm!"
I was lifted again, carried into the covered cabin, and laid down on one of the benches. Someone wrapped a blanket around me, but I was shaking too hard to hold it closed. My teeth were chattering so violently I thought they might crack.
Everything was happening so fast and people were moving so rapidly that I couldn't comprehend anything that was going on around me. All I know is I was saved and no longer in the water under the treacherous storm.
"Get her a motherfuckin' heated blanket nigga! The fuck is wrong wit' you! Do you have a sausage for a brain or 'sum!" I heard a familiar voice snap.
Then I smelled the intoxicating scent that always made my willpower weak and dizzy. My breathing had labored and I was in and out of it, but that woodsy scent wafting through my nostrils was bringing me back to life, doing more than anybody else around me could do.
I forced my eyes open and saw him kneeling beside me, kissing the side of my face with that masculine scent, with hints of bergamot and leather. It was an unmistakable statement that belonged to him.
"Nyne," he called out to me, while palming my face gently.
His face held so much worry as he ran his eyes over my body checking for injuries. The captain was there too, steering the boat back towards the island, but all I could do was focus on Syx.
He came for me, and he saved me.
"You're okay." He spoke, his voice was rough and urgent. "I got you baby. You're safe now."
I tried to speak, but all that came out was another cough and more seawater spilling from my mouth. Syx turned me on my side, supporting me as I emptied my lungs as he rubbed circles on my back.
"That's it baby." He murmured. "Get it all out. You're safe with me now. I've got you."
The storm raged outside, jump scaring me, but Syx wrapping his arms around me gave me comfort and warmth.
As the boat rocked violently back to shore, Syx remained beside me, surrounding me with his scent, pouring life back into me and I stopped trying to fight it by releasing a few deep breaths and whispering my decision groggily in his ear, for only him to hear.