Chapter 26
LEO
Sprinting toward the front of the yacht, I don’t slow as the towel falls from around my hips, momentarily tangling around my bare feet. Kicking it free, I keep running. Ahead, I can see Kenji leaning over the railing, and my stomach drops as I realize he’s laughing at something in the water.
“What happened?” I ask, anxiety making my voice hoarse as I slam into the railing beside him.
“Where’s Sora?” Then I spot the churning water—the person flailing where they seem to have fallen overboard.
“What are you doing just standing there, watching?” I demand, incredulous that Kenji can find the person’s distress amusing.
Even if he can’t swim, he should be calling for help, not laughing.
“And why wouldn’t I enjoy the show?” he asks, a malicious smile splitting his face. “I’m the one who threw her in. It seems my dear sister needed a reminder of her place.”
Horror grips me as I realize it’s Sora down there, and I turn to see the waves dragging her beneath the surface mere feet from the yacht’s bow. “Sora!” I call, my heart frozen in my chest as she reaches out to me, her body sinking like a stone as she quickly vanishes into the dark depths.
I don’t pause to think or assess the situation. Jumping over the railing, I dive straight toward the water where I last saw her, plunging beneath the surface headfirst. I can feel the boat’s rise and fall sucking me toward it, dragging me under like it did Sora.
I keep my eyes open as I swim deeper, searching frantically for her in the dim lighting.
Relief surges through me when I find her floating less than a yard beneath me.
Then, as I take in the state of her, fresh anxiety knots my stomach.
She looks unconscious, her arms floating limply above her head, like her thick black hair that fans out around her.
She’s not even trying to get back to the surface, and I’m worried she took a blow to the head from the boat rocking down on top of her.
Sweeping my arms and legs, I swim to her in several powerful strokes and wrap my arm around her slim waist. Her eyes are closed, her face calm in her unconsciousness.
I’m running out of time, and I kick toward the surface, pulling her with me as I deliberately ignore the nagging feeling that I might already be too late.
We break the water’s surface several yards from the boat, and I shift my grip on Sora to keep her head above water as I swim with one arm toward the nearest ladder.
Cries from above tell me we have an audience, and when I glance up, I find all four of my brothers, my father, the Tanaka family, and several staff members waiting at the railing to help me pull her up.
Sora’s still not awake as I reach the side of the boat, and I dip low to fold her hips over my shoulder and start to climb. Even soaking wet, she’s light, and I manage to get her back on board without assistance, growling for everyone to get back as I gently lower her onto the deck.
Breathing heavily, I kneel beside her, leaning in to put my ear beside her lips.
“Is she alive?”
The timid voice sounds like her mother’s, but I don’t waste time glancing up as I move my ear to her chest.
“She’s not breathing,” I growl, then I listen for a heartbeat as my own hammers painfully against my ribs. “Come on, Sora,” I snarl, interlocking my fingers so my palms overlap as I start to pump her chest, delivering CPR.
Someone whimpers softly as I count to thirty in my head, then tilt her head back, pinch her nose, and lean in to cover her lips with mine. I never should have brought her on the yacht. The guilt threatens to drag me into despair as I force two long breaths into her lungs.
I never should have asked her to talk to Kenji.
This is all my fault.
Returning to compressions, I keep the beat consistent as I look at her beautiful face. She’s hauntingly pale, her lips a terrifying shade of blue, and the thought of losing her opens an agonizing hole in my chest that threatens to swallow me whole.
“Come on, Sora,” I growl more forcefully, my desperation like a fist around my throat.
Switching back to breaths, I tilt her chin up and press my lips to hers, feeling their softness even as I note how cold and unresponsive they are. I see her chest rise out of the corner of my eye, her lungs filling with the air I force into them.
My heart jolts as she convulses beneath me, her body coming violently back to life. Gagging, Sora rolls to her side, and I rock back to give her space as she coughs up a torrential amount of water.
Relief floods me, leaving me lightheaded. My ears ring with it, adrenaline pounding through my veins like it was my life on the line.
“Sora,” her mother murmurs as if she’s been holding her breath this entire time.
My wife leans heavily on one forearm, her other palm bracing against the deck as she sucks in lungfuls of air with a ragged, wheezing sound. She coughs and hacks, her body jerking with the effort to eject every last drop of water from her lungs.
Then she looks up, her head on a swivel as she looks wildly around.
Her onyx eyes find mine, and the desperation washes from her face as tears well and quickly start to spill down her cheeks. “Leo,” she sobs, reaching for me, and the gesture rips my heart right out of my chest.
Wrapping my arms around her, I pull Sora firmly against my chest, aching with the relief of feeling her warm body alive and safe in my arms. “I’ve got you,” I murmur, holding her so tight I’m sure I’ll break her, but she doesn’t seem to mind.
“I’ve got you,” I repeat, breathing into her hair, pressing my lips to the crown of her head as she tucks her face in the crook of my neck.
She’s shaking so hard, it makes my teeth rattle, and I shift my grip to scoop her up in a bridal hold. Then I rise to my feet, pausing as I find the same audience standing around me, silently gaping at what just happened.
Even my brothers look shocked, not one saying a word as they step aside to let me pass.
I carry Sora toward the main cabin, whispering soft assurances to her as I try to calm her violent trembling.
“Shh,” I soothe softly as I walk, and her sobs slowly die down as she tries to pull herself together, but she keeps her face buried against my chest, her cheek icy against my wet skin.
“I’m s–so cold,” she stutters, her arms clinging to my neck.
“I know,” I assure her, snagging a towel from the back of a chair as I take her to the bedroom.
Kicking the door closed behind us, I cross the room to kneel and set her gently on the edge of the bed.
Then I wrap the towel around her shoulders, not caring if the sheets get wet as I sit beside her and pull her back into my arms. She huddles closer, her teeth chattering as she tries to soak up my warmth, and I hook my arm around her knees to drag her onto my lap.
“I’m sorry, Princess,” I murmur, holding her close. “I’m so sorry.”
“W–Why are y–you s–sorry?” she stutters, tipping her chin up to look at me through her teary lashes.
Her lips are still a slight shade of blue, and I’m worried she might be hypothermic. Not that the water is too cold for swimming—my brothers and I were diving in before. But the shock might be too much for her system.
“I promised that you wouldn’t have to swim,” I say, gut clenching as I think about our conversation beforehand. She told me she wasn’t a good swimmer. I never should have let her out of my sight.
Sora releases a shaky laugh that ends in a coughing fit that racks her entire body. Guilt rips through me once more as I hold her tightly, trying to keep her in one piece.
She’s still shaking, despite the towel wrapped around her, and I rub her arms briskly to create friction, wanting to bring her temperature up. A hot bath would be most effective, but the thought of leaving her—even for a moment—feels unbearable.
“You saved me, Leo,” she whispers, her arms tightening around her waist, pulling her towel closer as she nestles against my chest. “I thought I was going to die down there, but you came for me. I don’t know that anyone else would have.”
The confession rips at my chest, and I want to vehemently deny it because I can’t imagine anyone standing by and watching Sora die.
But then I think of Kenji. He didn’t just stand by—he threw her in.
Fury licks through my core like fire, and if I weren’t so concerned for Sora’s welfare at this moment, I would have half a mind to throw him overboard and tell the captain to draw anchor.
“I’ll always come for you,” I promise instead, and as Sora sniffles, I press my lips to the crown of her head once more.
That reminds me of my concern when I found her unconscious beneath the water. Keeping one arm firmly wrapped around her, I lean my head back to search her scalp as I gently comb through her hair with my fingers.
“What are you doing?” she asks.
“You were unconscious when I found you. Did you hit your head?”
“No, I—not that I remember,” she says, looking up at me with a frown. “I just swallowed too much water, and then my vision went dark.”
A violent shiver ripples down her spine, and I pull her closer, but I don’t stop searching for signs of a lump or cut.
Even if she doesn’t remember, the boat might have hit her after she passed out.
But after a thorough search, it would seem she isn’t hurt.
Still, she continues to tremble, and my concern grows when I check her fingertips to find they’re tinged the same purplish blue as her lips.
I need to bring her body temperature back up.