Page 103
Story: Ship Outta Luck
Dread weighs my limbs down, more effective than the diving belt around my waist. Not the ideal reaction to a team member arriving, but where the hell has he been?
My eyes dart to the gauge. It’s time to grab June and get to the surface.
Quickly, I pull the netting back over the tip of the sub, my fingers clumsy from the cut on my palm. Not a perfect job, but it will have to do.
Shit is about to get real interesting.
From the moment I catch June’s attention, tapping my dive gauge and pointing up to signal starting the slow ascent, my mind works at a record pace. Which, considering it’s been muddled with lust for the last two days, isn’t saying much.
Breaking the surface first, the sun dazzles in my eyes. Pierce’s boat looms near theBetty, quiet, motors off. No sign of Charlie.
No sign of my men, either.
My stomach knots. I tug the respirator from my mouth and wait for June to breach the surface.
I need to tell her my suspicions about Pierce. I need June to be safe more than I’ve needed anything in a long, long time.
My jaw tenses. I don’t know Pierce nearly as well as I would like.
I only hope Charlie is still with him.
Next to me, bubbles pop on the rippling water, followed by a glistening head of black hair. As soon as her respirator leaves her mouth, she lets out a joyous shriek, nearly dunking me as she wraps her arms around my neck. I kick double time towards the boat, heart heavy despite her happiness.
I can’t unload on her right now.
She needs this moment.
I’ve already ravaged the memory of her father. I won’t take this from her too.
June babbles and I force a smile, trying to recover some of that initial wonder at seeing theSantu Espiritu.
“I knew my father wouldn’t have left those clues for me for it to be what you said.”
Guilt claws at me. I blink, trying to match her smile with one of my own. I need to tell her I found the sub.
This fucking sucks.
Her hands are on my chest now, eyes gleaming with excitement. Not the tears she had earlier this morning. I’d do anything to keep from seeing them again, to keep this look on her face.
Even if it meant lying through my teeth.
It’s safer this way.
“Did you swim off to see the figurehead? Can you believe what great condition it’s in? That’s museum quality. It must’ve been buried for hundreds of years. I bet the seabed shifted with that last massive hurricane we had, don’t you think?”
She prattles a mile a minute, oblivious in her excitement.
Ignorance is bliss.
And it is so, so much safer than pulling her in any deeper.
“Hey, is that Pierce?” She starts waving her hands in the air, and I swear. “What’s wrong? Pierce! Over here! Charlie, y’all, you’re not going to believe what we found.”
Not a sound comes from the other boat. My chest tightens, adrenaline sparking, tingling down into my fingers. This isn’t good.
“June, we need to get on the boat.” My voice is low, and I knife my legs through the water, wrapping an arm around June’s waist as best I can with the tanks on her back.
“Where is Charlie?” She sputters, still staring at the boat.
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