They were out of time, whether Dani realized it or not. Instincts honed by tours of duty with navy search and rescue screamed for action. Whatever it took to get that survivor out of danger and up to safety, he’d do. He wouldn’t abandon that training today of all days.
Daeg’s military training had been brutal, every move repeated until it became instinctive. Because sometimes, if you had to stop and think through your next steps, you ran out of time and risked not just your safety, but everyone else’s.
“I’ve got the way,” he spat, pushing himself forward. The muscles of his thighs screamed in protest. “You’re looking at it.”
His next scan of the rising wave showed it was closing in fast. He eyeballed the remaining distance to the Jeep, but covering those twenty yards in three seconds was going to be impossible.
“Do not,” he said fiercely, planting his feet and turning them sideways, “let go. No matter what. Take a deep breath and hold it. Less than thirty seconds, okay?”
He wasn’t leaving anyone behind ever again. Focus.
He covered her hand with his, sealing her fingers to his jacket when she would have relaxed her hold. The wave would hit him first. Hopefully, he’d take the brunt of whatever was in it. “Don’t you dare let go.”
“No worries, soldier.” Her voice jolted him back to the present, and then the water struck.
* * *
COLD, EVEN THOUGH it was June. That was her first thought. The water pulled at her, rushing over her face, distorting her senses. She had just enough time to process the shock of fear before the water moved on and then surged back. Count. Five seconds down, twenty-five to go. At fifteen, though, she had to inhale, and the water burned down her nose and throat, her body coughing and gagging instinctively. This was what it would be like to drown.
Hold on. He dragged her above the water and she sucked in air.
Behind them, her car jolted, and the rain was pelting down, beating a loud staccato rhythm on the brown, frothy churn.
Her car floated away effortlessly as a new wave smashed into the vehicle. It sent the car into dizzying circles, like a child’s toy, before the water pushed it into a road sign, sending it out to sea. She didn’t want to imagine what would have happened if she’d been inside the vehicle.
She tightened her grip on Daeg’s shoulders.
Something struck them. She didn’t see what it was, but the impact drove him backward. She could hear his grunt of pain and another. He was off-balance, so she tried to slide off his back and lighten his load.
“Stay,” he ordered.
“I’m a liability.” She tugged hard, but he wouldn’t let go of her wrists. He was so strong. Capable. Those were good things, she repeated to herself as the water buffeted them. If she had to be out here, she was glad he was here with her.
Then the wave was gone as fast as it had come. Daeg released her, and as she stood there, waist deep in water with rain lashing her face, her eyes locked on their salvation some twenty yards away. The Jeep had never looked so good. She’d take any sanctuary, however temporary, right now.
“You’ve got to listen to me,” he snapped.
He was angry, and that was fine with her. His tone stoked her own ire, and the anger was a welcome change from the fear.
“I know how to take care of myself.” His look said that she wasn’t fooling him. Under other circumstances, she’d have taken umbrage at that arrogant response but, unfortunately, he was right.
“Great,” she muttered and started slogging toward the Jeep.
“Hey,” he said, snagging her arm and pulling her to a halt. “You remember what the motto of the navy rescue swimmers is?”
She narrowed her eyes. Right now, she just wanted out of the wet. Dry and safe sounded really good. “I’m sure you’re going to remind me.”
“So Others May Live. Now, you do exactly what I tell you and you’ll be safe. Right now, we’re going over to the Jeep and then we’ll assess.”
“Aye, aye.”
She didn’t need his alpha-male attitude. If this wasn’t so life-and-death, she’d have told him so.
He took a step and winced. As he lurched to his left, a hissing breath came from between his teeth.
That wasn’t a good sign. “You okay?”
Daeg was prickly, all intent on rescuing her, but she had to ask. Because the sudden lines on either side of his mouth indicated pain.
“I’ve been worse,” he replied.
“But—” How much worse was worse? She knew men. Impale them with a caber and the injury was just a pesky splinter. Daeg was acting all “move along” and “there’s nothing to see here,” but she wasn’t convinced.