Page 81 of Endless Depths

I navigateBriarover another monster wave. “I think we’re all grieving by ourselves instead of together.”

“How do you grieve together, then?”

“I don’t know. Maybe we can’t without Seb. Maybe he was the only thing that held us together.”

“Shit. I’m sorry, man,” Kent says.

“Thanks. It is what it is.”

Hopefully the string of traps I plotted based on data, and the supernatural intuition Lawrence claims I have, fills our tanks over the next few days. I can’t wait to get the hell out of here and back to Finn.

My soul is carved out and scraped raw. I’d take Cole back in a heartbeat. I want to be with the man I love. But it takes two people.

I rub my face with my hands. When I lower them, I see someone on the bow, a man in an orange jacket drifting to the rail.

“Kent, I have to go.”

I recognize that dark blond, nearly brown hair. Cole.

My heart lurches toward him. I don’t even grab a coat; I shove the door open and barrel down the metal steps and out onto the deck.

Rain lashes my skin. The wind blasts salty spray over the deck. It reminds me of the night Seb died. I can’t tell if the chill running through me is from the weather or the thought that I won’t make it to Cole in time.

“Cole!”

He doesn’t slow. Doesn’t turn. He climbs onto the rail. A single jolt will throw him overboard.

I curl my hands around my mouth, sprinting toward him, and bellow, “Cole!”

He swings his leg over the rail and leaps.

“No!” I sprint to the edge and nearly tumble over, shoes skidding on the slick steel.

“MAN OVERBOARD!” I shout toward the wheelhouse.

I wrap my hands around the cold rail. I should turn back and rouse the others, or push the emergency button by the bait station, but Cole doesn’t have time for that.

I scan the water, but I didn’t even bring a light. It doesn’t matter. I climb onto the rail. I’ll find him. I’ll save him, or we’ll drown together. I go where he goes.

TWENTY-TWO

Cole

Bright lightsand blaring alarms rip me from my slumber.

“Cole, get up!” Alejo says. “Briar’slisting.”

“Where’s Morgan?” The question is automatic.

“In the engine room.”

Right. Obviously. “Okay.”

I throw on a hoodie over my joggers, and race down the teetering steps in the near darkness to the engine room. I have to find him.

“Morgan?” I call, voice eclipsed by thundering machinery and my footsteps pounding the metal path between the engines.

I swing around the corner and nearly slam into Seb, kneeling before the generator, calmly working.