Page 79 of Too Far

I look to the light, then to Kendrick, then to the light again.

“Sit down,” K barks when I meet his gaze.

I’m tugged backward, and when my calves hit the seat, I stumble onto my ass.

“Hold on!” he calls again.

We accelerate. The weightless sensation the movement causes makes my stomach turn as we fly over the choppy water and go momentarily airborne.

“What’s—Who—What…”

“Joey. Hey. Hey. Look at me. You’re okay.”

Locke’s words are soft, soothing, but his body language betrays the calm he’s trying to affect. He’s sitting up on the edge of our shared seat, wearing an expression of sheer torment as he looks from me to the pursuer. The longer I look, the more acute the panic swirling inside me becomes.

“God dammit, motherfuckers,” Kendrick curses, his voice barely audible over the engine. He’s focused on the lake, on the isle that seems too far away.

Kylian’s still standing in the middle of the boat, his stance wide to maintain his balance, rapidly typing on his phone.

“Hey,” Locke calls out to the others. “Should I strap her?”

Kendrick glances our way, but only for a heartbeat. We’re going too fast, and his attention needs to remain on the water ahead of us. When he looks at us again, I see the question nagging at him—the tightness of his jaw, the grit of his teeth.

Kylian lifts his head and drops his phone to his side, looking from me, to Locke, to Kendrick, then behind the boat toward our pursuer once again.

He has an entire conversation with K in the span of three seconds.

And yet neither says a damn word.

“Yes or no? Should we buckle up?”

My gaze volleys between the boys.

The vessel coming after us is close enough that the constant hum of the engine is audible.

Finally, it’s Kylian who shakes his head.

Just once. Decidedly.

“She can swim.”

My heart plummets. “Wait—what?”

He drops to his knees in front of me. “Jo,” he says, planting a warm hand on my knee. “Look at me.”

Though my breaths are coming faster and my chest feels tight, I do as he says.

“If I tell you to jump, you jump.”

“No. No, no, no, no, no.” The taste of tears I didn’t know I was shedding surprises me when I open my mouth to argue. They’re salty and familiar, merciless and hopeless.

“Baby,” Kylian soothes. “We’re okay. You’ll be okay. There’s only one boat following us. I checked the radar to be sure. If they don’t let up, and I tell you to jump—”

“No.”

Kylian lurches forward, catching himself on my knees.

A bolt of panic stabs at my chest. Certain we must have hit something, I turn to Kendrick—