Page 16 of Holding the Line
This is it.
The irony was not lost on him.That his sanctuary, the one place he could breathe, would become his coffin.
But an arm—strong and sure—gripped around his shoulders, arms, chest.Dragging him upward.
He broke the surface coughing violently, water spewing from his lungs as he was hauled to the edge and manhandled up onto the side of the pool.
He collapsed against the cold tiles, shaking, gagging.
“Breathe, Eli.Goddammit, breathe.”
The voice was ragged.Familiar.Angry.Worried.
Marsh.
Eli opened his eyes.Marsh was soaked, sitting beside him, one leg hanging into the pool, the other gone.
“What...?”Eli rasped.
“You were drowning.”Marsh’s voice cracked.“And don’t even try to tell me this was some intense cardio bullshit.You were trying to silence the voices.”
Eli felt his stomach flip.How did he know?“I was just swimming.”
“No, that wasn’t just swimming,” Marsh snarled, “you were listening—to voices that don’t deserve space in your head.The kind that don’t stop unless you fight back.”
Eli rolled to his side, arms curled around his middle.“They wouldn’t stop.I swim to shut them down.And it works—until it doesn’t.”
Marsh exhaled slowly.“You can’t outpace pain in the pool.Believe me, I’ve tried with tech, with silence, with every distraction I could engineer.”
Eli was quiet for a beat.Then frowned.“How are you here?”
“I saw you in the cameras.”Marsh shifted beside him.“Saw the way you swam.Like you were trying to outswim your shadow.”
Silence stretched.
“I don’t even remember getting in,” Eli whispered.“I just needed to move.I couldn’t stay still—not with them shouting at me like they were.”
Marsh nodded.“I know those voices.I know what they sound like when they pile on top of each other.When they drown out your own.”
Eli didn’t answer.
“Whatever they said,” Marsh added, “they were wrong.”
Eli blinked hard.“You don’t even know what they said.”
“I don’t need to,” Marsh dismissed.“I’ve heard their kind.Had them inside my own skull most of my life, and absolutely since the day I got blown half to hell and back.”
They sat in silence again, broken only by the still harsh breathing of both men.
“I’m sorry,” Eli said finally.“For last night.For this.”
“You’re not the one that needs to apologize,” Marsh replied.“I’ve been—an asshole.To everyone.Especially you last night.And I’m sorry.”
“I think we both earned a little forgiveness,” Eli said.“Starting with ourselves.”
Marsh’s mouth twitched.“You’re the second person to call me on my shit today.”
Eli coughed a laugh.“We’re building momentum.”He looked around.“Uh, Marsh, where is your chair?”