Page 28 of Hearts on the Line (The Maverick Key #1)

Maddie

After helping Ms. Connor get started on securing the inn, I step outside to take a breath of fresh air.

The porch swing creaks beneath me as I rock, gazing out at the vast stretch of ocean.

It’s beautiful. Scott’s refusal stings, not only because it creates a huge obstacle to my goals, but because I just wanted him to believe in me.

He didn’t.

Nathan wouldn’t have let fear or obstacles hold him back, and I won’t either. If Scott won’t teach me, I’ll find another way.

Wes.

He’s a wild card. His flair for theatrics is infamous. But he’s good—the best. And most importantly, I know he won’t tell me no.

This morning, Wes mentioned he’d be editing footage in his room. I walk to his door and knock.

Muffled music—Caspian’s ‘Sad Heart of Mine’—cuts off. “Come in,” Wes calls.

I push the door open and step inside. He’s perched over an organized desk, his laptop projecting a kaleidoscope of vibrant underwater footage. He swivels in his chair, headphones resting around his neck, his grin as charming as ever.

“Hi, Maddie, what’s up?”

I close the door behind me, squaring my shoulders. “I need your help.”

His eyebrows shoot up, amusement flickering in his green eyes. “Help? Oh, I like the sound of that. What kind of help are we talking about?”

I meet his gaze head-on. “I want you to teach me how to cave dive.”

His grin falters, giving way to surprised concern. He leans forward, resting his hands on his knees. “Cave diving? That’s… bold. Okay—I’m intrigued.”

I step closer, sitting on the edge of his bed. My hands clasped in my lap to still their trembling. “I’ve been thinking about Nathan. About what he was doing before he disappeared. I need to understand it. I can’t just sit back while other people piece together his work. I need to do this myself.”

His eyes narrow. “Let me guess. Scott said no.”

“He thinks it’s too dangerous. Or maybe he’s too afraid of what might happen.”

He studies me for a long moment, his easygoing demeanor shifting to a serious expression.

“Scott’s not wrong. There’s nothing simple about cave diving.

It’s one of the most dangerous activities you can engage in—period.

If you screw up, you’re dead. There are rarely any second chances.

” He pauses, then continues, “And more importantly, accept that you could do everything right—everything—and something you never anticipated could still kill you.”

“I know the risks. Nathan took them because he believed in what he was doing. And I believe this is worth it. I’m not asking you to take me straight into the tunnels. I want to start slow and learn the right way.”

A ghost of a smile tugs at his lips. “You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that. Most people wouldn’t even consider this, let alone fight for it.”

The room falls silent. My heart races as I await his answer. Please say yes.

Wes stands up and walks to the window. He gazes at the ocean for a long moment before turning back to me.

“All right. I’ll help you. But I have a nonnegotiable condition.”

Relief surges through me. “What condition?”

His cockiness returns. “You follow my rules. No exceptions. If I say something’s too dangerous, you listen. If I tell you to stop, you stop. Deal?”

I let out a loud breath I wasn’t aware I was holding. “Deal.”

“Good.” He crosses his arms as he leans against the desk. “We’ll start with the basics—gear, safety, and navigation. Once you’ve mastered your skills in open water, we’ll discuss the overhead training.”

“Thank you.” My voice thickens. “I won’t disappoint you.”

Wes grabs a notebook from his desk and tosses it to me. “Let’s hope not. Because if Scott finds out about this, I’m going to be the one who needs rescuing.”

I flip through the notebook filled with detailed notes, diagrams, and observations. “I’ll study this tonight,” I promise.

“Do that,” Wes says, giving me a stern look, then laughs. “Welcome to the world of cave diving. Let’s see if you’ve got what it takes, rookie.”

The following morning, I stand at the edge of the dock, adjusting the straps of my dive gear.

The snug wetsuit clings to me, and the heavy equipment presses on my shoulders.

My heart pounds as I glance at Wes a few feet away, prepping his own gear.

His face hints at mischief as if he’s trying not to smile.

“All right, rookie,” Wes says, securing a coil of dive line at his waist. His green eyes glint with a playful seriousness as he gestures animatedly, describing what’s planned for today. “I hope you did some homework. The first lesson is simple. It’s all about the fundamentals. It’s about survival.”

I swallow hard. “Got it.”

He steps closer, his tone dropping. “Good. Because if you don’t master the basics, we don’t even think about cave diving. Clear?”

“Crystal,” I reply, steadying my voice despite the nervous flutter in my chest.

I put on the full-face mask last. I’d practiced with it in the pool last night—getting used to the motions of putting it on and taking it off both over and under the water.

Full-face masks allow underwater voice communication, which is valuable when visibility isn’t guaranteed.

But they are tricky to handle. Especially in caves.

Wes walks over to me and double-checks my suit and equipment. He looks at me with approval.

“Good. Let’s get in the water.” He claps his hands before turning toward the edge of the dock. The weather is deceptively mild, with no hint of the approaching storm.

We descend into the water by a reef near the coast. Sunlight filters from above, painting golden patterns on the sandy bottom.

I touch the spool and reel Wes gave me as we hover near a rocky outcrop.

“Lesson one is line following. This spool of nylon is your lifeline. Lose it in the caves of Carter’s Drop, and you’re as good as dead. Treat it like it’s worth more than your life.”

His voice crackles over our communication system.

“And never lose the line.”

“Dramatic much?”

His firm stare wipes away any trace of levity. I grip the reel tighter. He starts to unspool a neon-yellow practice line, stretching it between two jagged rocks on the ocean floor.

“As important as it is to lay and follow the line, you also have to be aware of entanglement dangers,” he continues.

“Plenty of skilled divers have gotten tangled in their own lines, panicked, run out of air, and died. It’s a pretty easy way to die.

Doesn’t matter how good you are. If you get stuck, you have to know how to react and have the right backups.

” He brushes his fingers across the many knives he’s secured to his suit.

My stomach tightens.

My job now is to follow Wes’s line, focusing on touch only. First, I need to get accustomed to the feel of the line and rely less on my other senses. My movements are careful, and my fingers brush against the cord as I keep myself steady.

“Good. Monitor your buoyancy. Mastering excellent buoyancy control is the most crucial diving skill. Keep your fins off the bottom. Avoid kicking up silt or colliding with the walls. Focus on your breathing.”

I adjust my breathing, concentrating on slow, deliberate inhales and exhales. My body responds, rising and falling with each breath. Gliding along the line, pride shoots through me when Wes doesn’t correct me.

“Not bad.” He nods his approval. “You’ve got excellent buoyancy skills, Maddie, you’ve been holding out on me.” Then his voice sharpens, carrying an edge of challenge. “Turn off your light.”

My stomach clenches, but I don’t hesitate. Reaching up, I switch off the light.

I’m plunged into near darkness.

Faint illumination from above penetrates the water. The line in my hand serves as my only anchor and guide. I tighten my grip, concentrating on the tension and direction.

“You’re doing great,” Wes says, his voice calm and reassuring. “Stay cool. Trust the line.”

The knot of anxiety in my chest loosens. The line’s presence gives me a tangible object to rely on. When Wes signals for me to turn the light back on, my fingers move, and a soft glow returns to the underwater world.

“See?” Wes asks, his voice brimming with pride. “That’s how you maintain your composure. You’ll need that if you ever lose visibility in the caves.”

We move to a deeper area, where Wes demonstrates emergency drills—how to clear a flooded mask, transition to your own alternate or your buddy’s air source, and hand signals when comms or slates aren’t available or practical. His instructions are clear and methodical.

“These skills are designed to help you regain control in unpredictable situations.” He pushes his emergency regulator toward me. “Your turn.”

I hesitate for a split second before taking off my mask and taking Wes’s octopus regulator.

The freezing water on my face and the unfamiliarity of breathing from someone else’s air source make my heart race.

I focus, exhaling as a cloud of bubbles rises around me.

I put on my backup mask. My anxiety wanes, replaced by steady concentration.

Wes motions for me to put my full-face mask back on.

“Good transition,” Wes says, his voice calm. “Always be prepared to give your primary or octopus air source to your buddy. And be prepared to take it.”

I repeat the drills until each step becomes second nature. Confidence replaces the nerves I’ve had since we started.

Now, I’m having serious fun.

“Ok, we’ve got one more test for the day. This one separates the winners from the losers.” Wes’s severe stare almost makes me laugh until it dawns on me. He’s serious.

“All right, rookie. It’s time for the real test. We’re going to simulate a lost line. Remember, if you panic, you’re a goner.”

He demonstrates the technique with methodical movements.

“Stop. Breathe. Think. Act. You must stay calm and trust your training over instinct. Panic kills.”

Now it’s my turn.

I close my eyes, letting the darkness swallow me. Wes puts a blindfold over my mask and guides me to a place where I don’t know where I am or how close I am to the line.

He let’s go.

At first, I’m calm, moving slowly. Searching, my fingers tracing the sandy terrain.

But the silence stretches. I’m underwater, blind. Where is Wes? Unease creeps into my head. I think of the ocean’s expanse. The impossibility of finding one thin line in the millions of gallons of water and sand.

Images of Nathan flash through my thoughts. I picture his final moments. Lost, forever.

A surge of panic grips my chest. My breathing quickens and my hands falter.

“Hey.” Wes’s voice cuts through the fog in my mind. “Breathe. Slow down. You’re okay.”

I latch onto his words, forcing my breaths to steady.

His hand grips my arm firmly. He gently guides me back to the line and removes the blindfold. I open my eyes.

Relief floods me as I grip the neon cord.

Wes uses his thumb to motion up, ending the dive.

We rise to the surface, emerging into the warm sunlight. I rip off my mask, gasping for air as water drips from my face.

Wes floats nearby, silent, watching me.

“I panicked,” I spurt out, my voice shaking. “I thought I could manage it, but I just froze.”

He tilts his head, studying me. “Yeah, you froze a moment, but you recovered and didn’t give up. That’s what matters.” He takes my mask and clutches my shoulder. “Remember—Stop. Breathe. Think. Act.”

I blink, surprised. “You’re not mad at me?”

“Mad?” He huffs. “Most people don’t even make it halfway through that drill without bolting to the surface the first time.” He stares at me, pinching in his brows. “You’ve got the best buoyancy I’ve seen in a long time. You’re an excellent diver, Maddie.”

I relax my shoulders. “So… I passed?”

“You didn’t fail.” We swim to the boat ladder. He looks back over his shoulder. “But don’t get too cocky. We have a lot more work to do before you’re ready for the cavern, starting with training for closed-circuit diving equipment. Get ready for the rebreather.”

He’s a good teacher. Excitement rushes through all my muscles. For the first time—I know I have a chance at doing this. And I love it!

As we climb onto the boat, I turn to Wes.

“Thanks for today. Really. I know you didn’t have to help me. You’re a true friend.”

He shrugs. “Don’t thank me just yet. The next lesson is going to make this seem like a piece of cake. You’ll probably hate me.”

I raise an eyebrow. “That bad?”

“Oh, it’s worse than you’re thinking. I promise you that,” he teases.

“Bring it on, Obi-wan,” He laughs.

“Let’s go home and get some rest, rookie. We’ll pick this back up after the storm passes.”