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“It’s just the two of us, Amalia. Till the end of time.”
Aidan’s sweat drips onto my neck. Seemingly too eager to recreate Lake Geneva, or perhaps panic has set in, he pushes me away so I stand in front of him, his hand clutching the knife firmly.
I stand defiant. I’m not going to lose the courage I’ve regained with Rob.
He sees the change in me, and that startles him for a second. Then, before he can even move, I hurl myself overboard.
Saltwater slaps my face as I make contact with the ocean surface. I’m entombed by darkness and cold. It’s almost like Lake Geneva, but the swells can’t disguise the fact that I’m drifting in open water.
The man above me releases a loud, disturbing laugh. “Same old trick, huh?”
I question his sanity, yet I feel pity.
“I’m coming for you!” His threat is wrapped in a sinister tone, and he doesn’t even wait for my next move. He scoots back into the cockpit and turns the yacht around.
He can try anything he wants, but there’s one thing he can’t do—go as deep as me.
I swallow air as I prepare to dive, but something hacks into my breath.Oh, my chest!The blow to my sternum in the engine room must’ve damaged my left lung. It’s damned painful to inhale, but I have to do my best.
Filling what’s left of my lungs with as much air as I can manage, I descend with my hands still tied behind my back.
Upon reaching my pain and physical thresholds, I surface. I’m a good distance away from the starboard side of Santa Sofia—coughing and crying quietly from the pain. Fortunately, Aidan seems to be looking for me in the wrong spot—around and around.
In the distance, the water whirs from the west. Something powerful and fast is approaching.
Rob.
There’s a possibility that he can’t see me, so I swim away to get further from his path. When the disturbance in the waves gets fierce, I dive. The last thing I want is for The P to bulldoze me.
It’s time to call up Mama’s headstrong nature, and at the same time, the calmness Papa had instilled in me.
Stay within a reasonable distance.
Stay patient—one lung is enough.
The chills are temporary.
Rob will find me.
36
ROB
The swell of the Pacific Ocean is slowing The P down but does not faze her.
“Come on, P. I need you,” I murmur, clutching the steering wheel. She’s travelling at a dangerous tilt, and the line between courage and capsizing is thinning.
I’ve been circling the Santa Sofia, and now the yacht is stationary. Aidan might’ve even dropped anchor.
“Clay, how far away is the Coast Guard?”
“About an hour. But I can speed up and get to you in thirty minutes.”
“Okay. Call them in ten.”
“Radio.”
The yacht has stopped. Through my binoculars, I see the cockpit and cabin are empty. Stealthily, I position The P closer. I open the hatch and latch her onto the Santa Sofia. Then I step over, keeping my stealth.
