Page 46 of Tide and Seek (Dr. Maxwell Thornton Murder Mysteries #8)

Royce

The water had risen past my chin an hour ago—or was it two? Time had stopped meaning anything in the darkness. The fentanyl still clouded my system, slowing my thoughts and making my limbs heavy and uncooperative.

The chill was worse now. I couldn’t stop shivering, my whole body trembling violently beyond my control.

The water was colder than I’d expected for summer, and in this cave where the sun never reached it seeped into my bones.

Some distant part of my brain registered it as my body’s last attempt to generate heat, to keep me alive.

But I was so tired. Exhausted from fighting the waves, from forcing myself to stay conscious, from shivering endlessly. My coordination was gone—partly the drug, partly the cold turning my muscles to stone.

It would probably be over soon and I’d be put out of my misery. The water was still rising, filling the cave with nowhere left to go. It was a grim thought, but I was so fucking weary of fighting to stay alive, it might almost be a relief to just let go. To just let the ocean take me.

I truly had fought to survive at first. I’d tried to find the opening earlier, when I’d first woken up disoriented and confused, but the drugs had made coordination impossible.

I’d only managed to scrape my hands bloody on the barnacle-covered walls before another wave knocked me down.

Now I was too weak to try again. It all felt so futile.

The water surged higher with each wave, lifting me off the rocky floor and slamming me back down.

The struggle was monotonous. At this point the only thing that kept me fighting was the desire to see Max again.

He’d be home by now and aware I was missing.

He wouldn’t understand what had happened to me though.

Might never know. Would my body ever be found, or would the ocean carry me out to sea?

Would Max simply be left with questions that would haunt him forever?

At least he knew I loved him. At least I’d gotten to tell him yes, to put that ring on my finger and imagine a future we’d never get to have. The ring was still there too. I could feel the comforting squeeze of it even through my numb fingers.

I frowned when I thought I heard a voice yelling in the distance, barely audible over the roar of water echoing off stone.

Was it my imagination? Wishful thinking?

But when I heard it again, my heart began to race.

I didn’t want to get my hopes up. It could so easily be the fentanyl playing tricks, or my oxygen-starved brain creating comfort where there was none.

“Hello?” I shouted, coughing when I accidentally swallowed sea water. Gasping for air, I strained my ears, listening. But it was so hard to hear anything over the churning water.

But then I heard it again, closer. “Royce.”

I felt like I was in a dream. The voice sounded like Max, but that couldn’t be real.

Terror cut through the fog in my brain at the thought of him entering this cave.

The water was rising fast, the current vicious and unpredictable.

Max was a strong swimmer, but these weren’t normal conditions. He could drown.

“Don’t come in,” I tried to shout, because no matter who it was, it was too risky. But my voice came out slurred, my jaw not working right from the cold and drugs. “Too dangerous,” I mumbled.

A wave crashed over my head and I went under, my already exhausted body tumbling in the churning water.

When I surfaced, coughing and gasping, I saw a figure moving in the dim light near what I’d thought was just a shadow in the rock.

At first I thought the drugs and cold had finally broken me, but then recognition hit like another wave.

Max. His dark hair was plastered to his head as he fought his way deeper into the cave.

He was going to die trying to save me.

“Go back,” I croaked, my voice raw and shaking. “Max, please—it’s too dangerous—”

But he kept coming, getting slammed against the rocks with each wave, his dress shirt clinging to his body, and his red tie wrapped around his neck.

The moment was surreal. I couldn’t believe my eyes.

But then he went completely under and didn’t resurface for long, terrifying seconds, and I thought my heart would burst. I tried to move toward him, but the waves knocked me back.

When his head finally broke the surface, he was gasping, coughing up seawater. But he was also closer. Close enough that I could see a cut on his cheek, and the wild determination in his eyes.

“Go back,” I shouted, panicked that he was going to drown right in front of me. “Max, go back, please.”

“No. I’ve got you, Royce,” he choked out, reaching for me.

“It’s too dangerous,” I mumbled, wanting him to leave, but also so fucking happy to see him, I felt like crying.

His hand closed around my arm with surprising strength and he hauled me toward him.

Another wave hit and we both went under, tangled together in the churning water.

I felt his grip slip, felt myself being pulled away by the current, but then his fingers found my shirt and held on with desperate willpower.

We surfaced together, both gasping for air in the rapidly shrinking space between the water and the cave ceiling. Maybe two feet of breathable air left now. Less with each wave.

“Are you strong enough to swim out?” Max shouted over the roar of water.

“I don’t think I can,” I slurred, staring at him like he was a hallucination that might vanish if I blinked.

If I did manage to swim, it wouldn’t be for long.

I had maybe a few strong strokes buried inside, then I’d be out of steam.

I didn’t think that would be enough. Not against these waves. “I’m all out of fight, Max.”

His jaw clenched. “No, you don’t get to quit.” His fingers dug into my arm. “Forget swimming. All you have to do is hold onto me. Okay, Royce? That’s all you have to do. Don’t let go of my shirt no matter what.”

“But, Max—”

He wasn’t listening. He was already turning, pulling me with him toward the entrance. But the current was fighting us, trying to shove us deeper into the cave. However, Max was relentless, his muscles straining as he battled the current. Even so, we made little progress.

“Max,” I said, panting. “I love you so much, but I can’t let you sacrifice yourself. You have to—have to leave me—”

“Shut up,” he snapped, eyes flashing angrily. “I’m not leaving you. Are you crazy? We’re getting out of here together or not at all.”

“Damn it, Max,” I began.

Another wave crashed over us, the undertow vicious.

We were almost yanked apart as my hands started to slip from his shirt.

Then I felt his fingers close around my wrist and he tugged me forward, against his lithe body.

He kicked his legs furiously and we surfaced in the narrow space near the entrance, maybe a foot of air left now.

The opening seemed impossibly far away, the water too violent, the current too strong.

But Max was pulling me toward it with single-minded determination, ignoring his own exhaustion, his own terror.

Each wave knocked us back but he kept fighting, kept dragging us both forward inch by painful inch.

I tried to kick my legs to help, but my coordination was shot, my efforts mostly useless. Just dead weight for him to carry.

My vision was going dark at the edges. The cold, the drugs, the exhaustion—it was all threatening to pull me under.

“Stay with me,” Max was saying, his voice desperate. “Royce, stay awake. We’re almost there. Just a little further—”

I forced my eyes to focus on his face, using him as an anchor. “I’m trying,” I managed through chattering teeth.

Another wave surged in and suddenly Max was using its momentum, letting it carry us upward toward the cave opening.

The water level had risen so high now that the entrance was only a few feet below the surface.

Max’s strong swimming strokes propelled us through, and then we were breaking through into open air.

But we weren’t safe yet. We were still in the churning water at the base of the rock formation, waves crashing against us with brutal force. Above us, the dark stone rose up, slick with spray and algae.

“Can you climb?” Max shouted over the roar of water. “I think that’s our only way out now.”

I looked up at the rocks, trying to make my drug-addled brain work.

There were handholds, crevices, places where barnacles and mussels had created rough patches.

Maybe six or eight feet up to a ledge that looked wide enough to stand on.

From there, it looked like we could work our way around the formation to where the beach began, away from the worst of the waves.

“I don’t know,” I said honestly.

“You have to try. I’ll be right behind you. Just try, Royce.”

A wave hit us and I grabbed onto the rock face instinctively, my fingers finding purchase in a crack. Max boosted me from below, and somehow I got my feet onto a small ledge. My muscles were shaking, my arms weak, but fear and adrenaline gave me just enough strength to reach for the next handhold.

“That’s it,” Max encouraged from below. “Keep going.”

I pulled myself up another foot, then another.

I honestly didn’t know how it was happening.

I felt weak as a baby, but somehow I just made myself keep moving.

The rock was sharp under my fingers, cutting into my already torn palms, but I couldn’t stop.

Below me, I could hear Max climbing, his breathing harsh and labored.

If I stopped moving, he’d be in huge trouble. So I had to keep going.

My hand slipped on wet algae and I almost fell, but Max was there, bracing me from below with his shoulder. “You’re good. Keep moving.” He was breathing hard, but I was amazed at his stamina.