Page 67 of The Brit


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He looks sad for a split second, his chest compressing against mine as he breathes in. “I have to get you in my bed.” His mouth falls to mine again, his tongue lapping slowly.

“Worried you’ll change your mind?”

“No.” One hand leaves my hair and finds my breast, his touch molding me through my wetsuit. “We need to continue this somewhere private.”

“I don’t see anyone,” I tease, feeling him smile around my lips as he starts to swim back to the jet ski, me still attached to his front. I’m not letting go. Of him, or his mouth.

“Me either. But I haven’t seen anyone else since I laid eyes on—”

Boom!

I’m thrown skyward on a scream, the force carrying me high, the sky illuminated with red and orange. The heat radiating through my body is instant, my ears pierced painfully by the unbearable sharp sound. Disorientation and shock render me incapable of figuring out what’s happened as I’m thrown like a rag doll, landing in the water with a silent splash, all sound drowned out by the echoing roar of noise.

I plunge deep into the water and start kicking my legs wildly, but I just keep sinking deeper and deeper. I can’t breathe. Can’t see. My lungs fight against my instinct to draw air, but my desperation to breathe wins. I inhale and choke on salty water, every part of my body and head in a panic, my limbs flailing to get me out of the water, my mind battling to find instruction.

I’m going to drown.

A strange peace comes over me, my fight to survive leaving me for the first time in my life. I feel weightless. I’ve never felt so light before. Giving in to the pull of the current and letting gravity do what it will, I let it drag me down, everything in me settling. Accepting. If I’m dead, they can’t threaten him anymore. He won’t be at risk. He’ll be left to live his life, to be happy. Not that he knows it, but he won’t be living on the edge of evil anymore. They’ll have forgotten him sooner than I’m dragged out of the sea. He will be of no use to them anymore. I die. But he gets to live.

I close my eyes and let my arms float out to my sides, my panic now gone, acceptance replacing it.

My body meets something. The seabed. And then I’m moving, feeling like I’m being pulled. My eyes open, and through the murky water, I just see his eyes before he pushes me up from beneath and I’m quickly shooting up through the water toward the surface. The sight of him brings me back to life. My legs start kicking, my arms working against the force of the water, my lungs screaming.

I break the surface on a rush of air and immediately bring up water, coughing as my lungs squeeze. My head feels like it could burst from the pressure of my heaves, my body out of control. It could be daylight. The space before me is illuminated, bright and clear. Then I hear the roaring sound.

I turn in the water, coming face to face with a ball of fire, the flames red-hot and wild, touching the sky. “Oh my God.” I circle, searching the glowing water for him. “Danny!” I yell, feeling frantic and panicked. More alien feelings, and I can’t stop them. I can’t see him. “Danny!” I hold my breath and immerse my face, trying to see beneath the surface. My lungs are shot. I can’t hold my breath for long enough to find him, and I resurface, my head snapping back and forth, looking for him. He didn’t come up. After he made sure I made it to the surface, he didn’t come up. “Danny!” I scream over the sound of the raging flames, spinning when I hear something, another roar, except this one is from a boat. A speed boat. I throw my arms into the air, seeing Brad and Ringo on board. They spot me, both of their faces riddled with worry, with shock.

“Rose,” Brad yells. “Stay there.” He shuts the engine off when they’re a good ten feet away and start floating toward me steadily. He leans over, ready to pull me up.

“I can’t find him.” My voice breaks. I feel like I’ve swallowed something large and hard and it’s trapped in my throat. “I can’t find Danny.”

“Fuck,” Brad curses, leaning out as far as he can, stretching his arm for me. “Take my hand.”

Just as our fingers brush, I hear something behind me. I abandon Brad’s hand and fly around, my eyes darting across the water wildly. I see his eyes before I see anything else. I hear my heart pounding its thanks before I hear his coughs and splutters, followed by a curse. His hands go through his hair, pushing it back, and he searches the water. Something inside me bucks. Something profound and demanding. Something that will not go ignored. And then our eyes meet, and I realize in this moment . . .

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