Page 127 of The SEAL and the Sheriff

Come on.

He wedged two fingers beneath the wire and twisted until rusted strands bit through his skin. The wire held. He twisted it against itself until one rusted strand snapped, then another. Her leg drifted toward him.

Move.

He pulled her against his chest, locking his wounded arm across the front of her body armor. Pain ripped through his arm from the knife wound, but the arm only had one job now. Hold her.

Protect the airway.

Surface.

His legs drove downward, but it wasn’t enough. He kicked again, desperation scorching his veins.

The piling brushed his shoulder.

Thank fuck.

His good hand closed around barnacle-crusted timber as he used it to haul them upward. His lungs convulsed. Old scar tissue stabbed like broken glass inside his chest as black crowded the edges of his vision.

Not yet.

He dragged her higher, skin ripping on his palms with every pull.

Again.

Light knifed through the water. Floodlights. White beams turning the black water silver. The deep blast of a horn vibrated through the pilings. A Coast Guard response boat.

Close.

Shattered wood bobbed at the surface, only three feet above him.

He risked a glance at her face resting against his shoulder. Her lips were blue, her hair floating around them like pale silk.

His body was finished, but his grip refused to surrender the woman in his arms. He pulled and kicked again, stars exploding against his vision.

At last, he broke the surface in the glare of brilliant white light. He thrust Sarah upward first, every scrap of strength going into keeping her face above the water.

Air.

His first breath tore into him like fire. He coughed, seawater searing the back of his throat, but his arm didn’t loosen around Sarah.

“Sarah!”

No response.

He lifted her higher, fighting to keep her face above the water as the swell rolled around them. A powerful rescue light swept over his head.

Voices shouted. “Man in the water!”

“Two in the water!”

A splash nearby.

Caleb surfaced beside him. “Hudson. I’ve got her.”

Her brother reached for her, but Hudson’s arm wouldn’t open. “Hudson, let go.”

“I—” It wasn’t a decision. His body had locked around her. His legs were no longer responding. His hand slipped from the piling. Every breath came in ragged, useless gasps that barely reached his lungs.