Page 9 of Hearts on the Line (The Maverick Key #1)

Scott

I descend toward Carter’s Drop. As I sink deeper, the surface world disappears, leaving only the occasional whoosh of the regulator and release of carbon dioxide. In every direction, the endless expanse of the ocean stretches before me.

I glance at my depth gauge—it’s dropping. Ahead, the dark maw of the cavern looms, jagged and uninviting, like the mouth of an ancient and hungry beast. No matter how many times I enter the Drop, my pulse always kicks up.

“Visibility’s good.” Jamie’s voice crackles through our comms.

“Margaret, how’s the weather looking topside? Over.” I scan the area, my focus sharpening. The cold water hones my senses.

“All good,” Margaret says. “Keep the comms clear and check in once you’ve reached the tunnels for an update. Over.”

“Copy. Out.” I take a deep breath and switch on my dive light.

We advance into the cavern. The natural light from above fades into near blackness.

“All right. Jamie, you’re with me this time. We’ll continue to drop cookies on the offshoots and run traverse into the tunnels we flagged last time. Liam, verify the main line tie-offs—lay temp traverse if the passage looks stable. Mark the distances with the knotted line.”

“Got it.” Liam checks his gas. Jamie gives me an OK sign.

We enter the first tunnel. My beam catches a detail we missed on our prior dives. A faint line of algae-covered nylon trails along the rock of the tunnels, an old dive line left behind by someone who’s been here before. I point it out to Jamie. “Mark this.”

“Done,” Jamie says, scribbling on his slate.

We move slowly, adjusting our BCD and trim as we navigate to avoid clouding the water.

The quartz veins in the walls glimmer under our lights.

This is the fun part, seeing areas of the cave for the first time and taking in the natural beauty.

Some smooth areas of the walls in this tunnel are out of place from the Swiss cheese texture of the limestone.

I reach out and brush my glove against a flat patch of stone.

Interestingly, it’s warmer than the surrounding water.

Before I investigate further, Jamie’s voice blasts through the microphone.

“Heads up—movement at your three o’clock. I can’t tell what it is.”

I turn my light toward one of the subsidiary shafts, catching a flicker of motion. Small particles scatter as another beam cuts through the murk.

“Looks like we’re not alone.” My jaw tightens as three silhouettes emerge into the passage.

Wes Harrington’s team.

Their clumsy movements stir up silt plumes that soon reduce our visibility. Fine particles cling to my mask, swirling in the water. Through the haze, Wes emerges, his dirty blond hair unmistakable even in the murk.

“Watch your buoyancy, boys.” He turns his head my way. “Rickter. I didn’t expect to run into you guys down here yet. Not on our first day.”

I’m willing to bet running into us is exactly what he expected.

“Funny,” I reply as I keep my tone clipped and gesture toward the three divers by his side, two struggling to control their bulky underwater video equipment. “They’re going to get stuck.” I bite down a curse at the sheer recklessness. “In case you missed the memo, this passage is a little tight.”

“A little squeeze doesn’t bother me…” Although the regulator hides his smirk, I see it in his eyes.

“We’re getting in a short swim and some footage before heading over to the Driftwood to check in and get some dinner.

” He pauses, then adds. “I get to meet Nathan’s little sister, Maddie, tonight.

He told me so much about her, and the word is she’s cute.

All the guys in town are talking. Have you met her yet? ”

I knew Wes and his crew were staying at the inn, but Maddie’s name on his lips makes my ears throb. There’s no way I’m going to sit here and have a friendly chat with this guy. I couldn’t care less about his dinner plans.

“I guess this is your show now, Harrington.” I gesture toward the walls of the tunnel.

“Get ready to see how this gets done.” He’s got the gall to wink.

One of his divers fumbles with the camera, kicking up another wave of silt.

Unconcerned, Wes navigates easily into one of the narrower offshoots with his usual theatrics.

The camera flares, casting dramatic halos in the murky water.

The guy has excellent skills himself, but it’s criminal he has these guys down here. Typical.

“This is what people tune in for,” he declares, his voice dripping with showmanship. “Tight squeezes, the risk of death, and the thrill of the unknown. Make sure you’re getting all this, boys.”

I roll my eyes. “Let’s move.” I motion to Jamie. “We’ve got real work to do.”

We slip past Wes’s crew without a word as we return to the main cavern. When we enter, the silt cloud disappears. I signal to Liam as Jamie and I approach the second tunnel. My light sweeps across the walls, another faint line of nylon, a breadcrumb from someone’s previous journey.

“Get this one, too.” I point. “Mark as B. Spool and tie-off more line—keep it tight. Let’s get the first twenty feet mapped.”

We continue working, the silence of the underwater world broken only by an occasional crackle of the comms and chatter from Wes’s team, which blessedly stops.

Margaret’s voice chimes in. “Check your gauges. How does it look? Over.”

“Productive. We’ve got two promising leads to explore further the next time we go down. We’re good on gas, over 70 percent. Over.”

“Copy,” Margaret says. “By the way, Wes’s team just surfaced. The Drop’s all yours. Out.”

“Thank God,” Jamiesays. Liam chuckles from the main cavern. We continue to work, capturing markers. After half an hour, we’re ready to wrap it up.

“All right. Let’s head back.”

We pack up and start the ascent. The water brightens fast as we rise, and a faint pull of the current guides us upward. Breaking the surface, I pull off my mask and take a deep breath of salt-laden air. The hum of Adeline’s engine greets me.

Margaret leans over the side of the boat, extending a hand.

“We made a lot of progress today, despite Harrington’s shit.” I strip off my fins and set them aside. “We’ll go deeper next time.”

After we dock, I lean against the boat railing and dial Garrett. The line connects, his abrasive voice cutting through. “What do you have for me?”

“Two promising tunnels. We’ll begin exploring them next time.”

“Good. As you map them, make sure the work is thorough and clean. I don’t want any amateur shoddiness.”

Margaret grimaces, and Liam arches a brow.

“Okay, understood.” I hang up and shake my head. What a bastard.

I turn toward the team. They don’t deserve Garrett’s disrespect. “How about we hit the Blue Fin tonight?”

Jamie tosses his towel onto a bench. “Now you’re talking. You buying the first round?”

“Yeah. Drinks are on me.”

I can’t think of a better way to let the day’s tension ebb away. Tomorrow we’ll deal with more shit and do it well, but tonight, a few drinks for this crew are well-earned.

The Blue Fin Tavern thrums with energy as we claim our usual corner spot at the back of the outdoor beach bar.

The combined scents of saltwater, coconuts, and seafood drift through the warm evening air.

A live band plays island tunes, their melody blending with the waves.

It’s the kind of night Maverick Key does best, laid-back and brimming with life.

I sit back, nursing my beer as Liam and Jamie launch into their latest debate about dive spots, arguing over the hidden gems versus well-trodden tourist traps.

Margaret’s flipping through a laminated dive chart, getting ready for the next dive, no doubt.

I need to convince her to leave her work at home.

I’m worried she has no life away from the water.

The rise and fall of voices, clinking glasses, and the crunch of sand underfoot surround us as servers weave in and out between tables.

My gaze drifts toward the shoreline, into the darkening horizon. The cool breeze ruffles my hair as I take another sip. The stress of the day easing away—until I spot them.

Hannah’s bright hair shines like a beacon as she approaches the tavern.

Beside her, Maddie’s blue dress flutters in the breeze, her simple grace catching my attention.

Her loose honey-brown hair frames her face, and her smile is even softer than I remember, real and unguarded.

My heart rate picks up and I sit up straight.

I’m glad I put in a little more effort into cleaning up for tonight than I typically bother with.

Trailing behind them is Wes Harrington, his casual stride unmistakable.

Of course, he’s here. His charm is as phony as his personality.

He gestures animatedly, bringing more attention to himself.

I see girls all over the bar whip out their phones and aim.

But what’s getting under my skin is that he’s here with Maddie.

The asshole works fast. My grip tightens around my beer bottle.

“Fucking Wes Harrington.”

Jamie tracks my gaze and lifts a brow. “Here comes trouble.”

“Always making a grand entrance.” The girls who were filming him have now gathered into a massive swarm, staying at a somewhat discreet distance.

“Stealing the spotlight—and the ladies,” Liam says, a grin tugging at his lips as he casts me a knowing glance.

I don’t reply, and my focus locks on the hand Wes rests on Maddie’s back as they make their way toward the bar where they get their drinks. Hannah spots us first and waves enthusiastically as she drags the others along.

“Hey, guys,” she calls, her excitement infectious.

I stand out of habit, my southern roots kicking in. “Hannah. Maddie.” My gaze lingers on Maddie a beat too long before shifting to Wes. “Harrington.”

“Rickter,” Wes replies, his expression challenging. “Small island, huh?”

“Very.” I motion to the table. Maddie hesitates, her fingers brushing the back of a chair.

“Let me get that for you.” Wes pulls out Maddie’s chair with a flourish.

Hannah nudges Maddie.

Maddie sits and glances at me before moving her attention back to her friends. The faint scent of her perfume drifts toward me—warm, gourmand, understated. So sweet. I wonder how she’d taste. Heat rushes up my spine. I shift my focus to my drink, forcing my thoughts elsewhere.

As the night wears on, the conversation flows.

Hannah and the others fire off questions to Wes about his adventures.

He eats it up and shares story after story.

Hannah lights up as he recounts his near-death experiences and daring escapes.

A few times, women come to our table to ask Wes for his photograph.

He obliges them and gives them a light touch or kiss.

I sit back, drinking my beer. Maddie is quiet, too, her fingers tracing the edge of her glass.

Every so often, her gaze flicks in my direction. I might just be imagining it.

“All right, it’s an open call for the piano.” An energetic man announces to the crowd as he wheels a well-worn piano to the stage. “Any brave souls out there who want to play tonight?”

Hannah’s face lights up as she turns to Maddie. “You have to,” she urges Maddie. “Come on.”

“No way,” she murmurs. Her cheeks burn bright pink, but her fingers twitch in her lap.

“Don’t be shy,” Wes says, his voice full of enthusiasm. “You’ll be incredible.”

Hannah grabs Maddie’s hand, pulling her to her feet. “I know you can play. Let’s see you blow them away.”

I sit up straighter as Maddie allows herself to be led to the stage.

Compared to the loud, intoxicated crowd, she’s so small and quiet.

Fighting an urge to get up and start corralling them away from her, I stay put, eager to see what she does.

Hannah returns and lifts her arms, hands in fists, cheering Maddie on.

Maddie scoots around on the stool for a few minutes, getting comfortable, as she nervously glances over the bar.

Returning her gaze to the piano, she takes a deep breath.

Her hands hover above the keys, and she begins to play.

The tempo is tentative at first but grows stronger.

The song’s melody envelops the silent crowd like a spell.

Maddie’s slender shoulders rise and fall as she strikes the keys.

I can’t look away. Her emotion pours through every note, raw and unfiltered.

The room erupts into applause when the song ends. I’ve stopped breathing. My heart is racing.

Maddie rises and makes her way back to the table.

She’s only a few steps away when a man stumbles into her path, his drink sloshing precariously close to her dress. “Well, aren’t you special?” he slurs, reaching out toward her. “Can I get your autograph, pretty girl?”

Maddie freezes, eyes wide.

I don’t think. I’m on my feet, closing the distance between us.

“Get away from her.”

The man blinks, swaying as he registers my presence.

Wes stands, too. “You heard him, buddy. It’s time to move along.”

Without a fight, the drunk mutters, and stumbles away. Maddie is trembling. I brush my hand across the back of her neck and rest it on her shoulder.

“Are you okay?”

Her skin is still flushed. “Yes, thank you.” Her gaze moves between me and Wes. “Both of you.”

There’s a loud crash. Chaos erupts near the bar. A swarm of drunk tourists and locals shout, their argument escalating into a full-blown scuffle. Chairs topple, glass shatters, and everyone nearby scrambles to get out of the way.

“Here we go,” Jamie says, shaking his head. He stands with Liam, getting ready for anyone coming our way.

Maddie and Hannah don’t need to be in the middle of this.

I turn toward Wes. “Go home. Get them out of here.” I tip my head toward them.

Wes guides them toward the open beach. I stay behind, stepping into the fight with Jamie and Liam.

“Calm down. Take it somewhere else if you need to.”

By the time the police arrive, the crowd has dissipated.

As I give my statement, my mind drifts to Maddie—the melody she played, the softness of her features, and the way her eyes lingered on mine.

For a fleeting moment, she’d looked at me as a man she could rely on, and I’d liked how it felt—a lot.

My body burns with thoughts I shouldn’t entertain. I remind myself she’s not for me. No one is. The truth settles in my chest, heavy and unshakable, lingering long after the bar falls silent. I get into my truck and drive home.