“As much as you, so that means you’re as drunk as me.”
“I’m not drunk, and I will prove it.”
“Oh, that breeze is good, mate. Hey, what are you doing?”
But I was already running into the ocean, trainers still on, mad fuck that I was. I laughed. “I bet I can hold my breath underwater for two minutes!” I yelled before I dove in. As I swam to the ocean bed, I could not see a bloody thing. Swimming along the bottom was amazing.
Just darkness and me.
Plant life brushed against me and fish swam by, and I felt connected to the world in a way I’d only experienced back home in Ardnoch. To my utter shock, I missed the place with a longing I’d never expected. Every trip home, however, was a reminder that I was someone different to my family than the man I believed I was. I couldn’t get over the sense that they still saw me as the fuckup.
That was not who I wanted to be.
As the thought burned, I heard yelling above the surface.
How long had I been down here? It couldn’t have been that long, or I’d be dead.
Pushing upward, I broke the surface—
“ARRAN!”
Fuck. I spun around, trying to follow Colin’s panicked voice. I couldn’t see him.
“I’m all right!” I yelled as I pushed toward the shore. “Colin!”
Splashing sounded in the distance.
I turned in the water, fear shooting through me. Colin wouldn’t get in the water drunk. He was smarter than me, right?
But he would if he thought I was in trouble.
Shit.
He was definitely drunker than I was.
He probably had no concept of time right now or how long I’d actually been under.
“COLIN!” I roared, suddenly sober as I searched for any sign he was in the water.
I swam in the direction I thought I’d heard the splashing. Frantic, blood rushing in my ears, I strained to hear anything. Swimming under, I tried to see if he was in the water, but there was nothing. I kicked upward. “COLIN!”
Movement on the beach caught my eye, and I saw a couple hurrying toward the shore. “Are you okay?” the woman yelled.
“Have you seen my friend?” I called back. “I think he swam in, but he’s drunk.”
“There!” She pointed farther down the coastline. “We saw him run in shouting for someone.”
Why the fuck didn’t you go after him? I thought wrathfully as I powered through the water.
It was taking too long to find him.
Too long.
Every second counted.
Maybe he wasn’t as drunk as I thought.
Maybe he was just fooling around. Getting me back for staying under too long.
Colin was always pulling shit like this that wasn’t funny.
But then I saw him, bobbing to the surface.
Everything from that moment was a blur.
Dragging his heavy, limp body out of the water and onto the beach.
Using the CPR training I’d never used before.
But unlike the movies when the person inhales and chokes up water, Colin just laid there.
Heart silent in his chest.
“You have to stop. He’s gone, my friend, he’s gone.” Kasem’s familiar voice was in my ear, his arm around me holding me back from Colin.
There were people with us now.
I hadn’t noticed.
Kasem was here.
I was here.
But because I’d taken a midnight fucking dive while Colin was drunk, he wasn’t here.
He wasn’t here.
12
EREDINE
“I don’t know what I was thinking.” Arran’s words rasped like they were coated with sandpaper. Tears stung my eyes from the emotion bleeding from him. “I wasn’t thinking. I was drunk. And I went into that water knowing Colin was even drunker than I was.”
Compassion was a constant ache within me as I pressed a comforting hand to Arran’s bare back. His skin was hot, probably from the alcohol. “It was an accident. You cannot blame yourself for someone else’s actions.”
Arran looked at me, and my stomach plummeted at the sight of tears in his eyes. Shocked, I flexed my hand on his back. “I knew better. You never go into the water when you’ve been drinking. He was wasted, Ery. He must have been confused about how long I was under and he dove in to save me … and drowned.” A low sob burst from him, and I watched helplessly as my seemingly happy-go-lucky friend began to cry.
“Arran.” My lips trembled with tears, but I fought them to wrap my arms around him instead. Arran fell, his head buried against me as he cried. I soothed him, brushing my fingers through his hair, wondering what else I could do to help. He was carrying around so much misplaced guilt. My heart broke for him.
Eventually, he quieted and eased away. Arran scrubbed aggressively at his cheeks. “Fuck, I’m sorry,” he said gruffly. “Just had too much to drink.”
“It’s okay. It’s just me.”
Our eyes met, his still red with emotion. “Just you,” he murmured, his gaze dipping to my mouth.