Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 128211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 641(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 641(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
I stopped, blinking rapidly, sure I’d misheard her. “Now?”
“It’s a perfect moment. Things are kind of blowing up and we’d like to capture the raw thoughts going on inside your head at the moment.”
I stared at them.
“Are you out of your mind?” I shoved past her, noticing some commotion on the deck behind her.
“Just one question.”
“I said no.”
The sliding glass doors slid open for me to join the guests on deck — right as another scream rang out.
“Fuck! My ankle!”
The commotion I’d been witnessing from inside was Benny and Jacob nearly fighting. Apparently, one of our camera operators had tried to intervene before things got too serious.
And paid the price for it.
Luke was sprawled on the deck now, clutching his ankle and grimacing at the sight of the expensive camera gear he’d lost control of in the process of the fall. Brittany gave up hassling me and focused on making sure the equipment was okay while Eli grabbed the first-aid kit we had yet to even have time to put away, his focus on Luke now.
“Jesus Christ,” I breathed.
Then the wind picked up again.
A heavy gust slammed through the sundeck, flipping over menus, superlative cards, half the centerpiece Bernard and I had assembled with painstaking care. Linen napkins the guests had taken out of the metal rings were whipped over the railing. I scrambled after what I could, heart pounding.
My radio crackled again.
“Interior — Finn. I figured dinner out. I need ten minutes and an extra set of hands.”
“On my way,” Leah responded, and I knew from the crack in her voice that she’d been crying.
My chest tightened, but before I could think too much on it, Palmer appeared on the deck, his expression tight.
“Hey. I just spotted a vessel drifting.” He pointed off the starboard side. “Pretty sure they pulled anchor. They’re coming toward us.” He picked up his radio and barked into it, my skin prickled. A drifting vessel could cause a big bill for our owners — or worse, an injury for one of us on board. “Captain, this is Palmer on the bow. We’ve got a vessel adrift. Heading our way.”
“Good eye. I’ll try to radio them now. Grab as many fenders as you can and prepare for a collision,” Captain said back, his voice calm and even despite the possible disaster.
And that’s when I heard it.
A splash.
Distant, but distinct.
Every nerve in my body froze.
All the voices from the guests and the radio muted as I turned and ran for the swim platform, scanning wildly. My eyesight was twenty-twenty, but that didn’t mean shit now that the sun had set. I peered through the dusky night, and by some sort of miracle, I saw her.
Maria was in the water.
“Oh, God.” Panic sliced through me, and when I turned, I realized Captain had ordered the anchor up. Cameron was already working on it, probably so Captain could maneuver around the drifting vessel Palmer had spotted.
But if we started moving, we’d lose Maria. The wind was up, which meant the swell was, too.
No one had noticed — not the guests, not the producers, not a single member of our crew, who were all pulled in other directions handling chaos.
And Maria was drifting. Head dipping.
I didn’t have time to wait for someone else to help me.
“Guest in the water!” I screamed, and then picked up my radio. “Man overboard! Man overboard!”
I barely got the words out before my shoes were off, radio dropped, mic stripped. I somehow remembered my training enough to throw the life preserver in; though I knew even as I did it that it would be pointless with the swell carrying her so quickly.
And then I dove in.
The world was muffled for the brief moment I was underwater, and then I emerged to the sounds of screaming from the boat and screaming from Maria, who was at least twenty meters away from me. I swam as hard as I could, thankful for the years of lessons I took and the rigorous training I went through before I ever worked on a boat.
Every time you trained for a situation like this, you prayed it would never happen. For many, it never would.
I didn’t have such luck.
Saltwater slapped against my face as I struggled to time my breath with the waves I was fighting against. My muscles screamed, the current strong, the light fading more and more as we rotated farther from the sun.
All I could do was keep my focus on Maria. She did her best to swim toward me while I swam toward her. It was easier for me, the waves carrying me out, but they tried to do the same to her. She fought hard.
And then she disappeared beneath the water.
My adrenaline spiked, legs kicking harder, arms swinging. I dove when I thought I was close to her, the saltwater stinging my eyes as I opened them underwater and searched for her.