Wyatt sighed. “Listen, budge along, and I’ll see if I can reach it, that way I won’t have to go in if that’s what’s bothering you.”
“Yes, it’s bothering me.” She scooted forward, and he took her seat facing the back. He tipped over, dipping into the water up to his chin.
Closing his eyes and gritting his teeth, he appeared to be yanking something that was only just within reach.
“Can you fix it?”
“It’s a bit of goddamn fisherman’s net, wrapped around it tight.”
“How the hell…?”
“We must have drifted into it.” He grimaced. “It’s stuck. I need to go under and pull it free.”
“Under … under the water?”
He sat upright and placed his wet hand on her shoulder. “Chill, it will be fine. I told you. I’ll always look after you.”
“Kind of hard to do that if a shark is eating your arms and legs for its afternoon snack.”
“Sharks aren’t interested in me.” He chuckled. “I’m not their flavor.”
“What?”
“They like seals and shit like that.” He removed his shades from the top of his head. “Hold these. And don’t go anywhere.”
“Where would I…?”
He slipped into the water, disappearing beneath the deep-blue surface in an instant.
“Wyatt!” Her stomach clamped, she thought she be might be sick. How could he be so blasé about all the things in the ocean that wanted to eat him?
“Stop it,” she scolded herself. “You’re being ridiculous.” But her own words weren’t reassuring. She’d always been scared of deep water, and that wasn’t about to change now that she was balanced precariously upon it.
Tearing her eyes from the spot where he’d vanished, she scanned the vicinity for signs of life, of terror, of murderous intent. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”
The vastness seemed to multiply the more she looked, as did their distance from the shoreline. God only knew how deep the water was—fathomless.
She spun to face the other way, then to look behind.
What is that?
It was something, she was sure of it.
“Wyatt!” She splashed the water. “Wyatt! Get up here. Now!”
An image from an oldJawsmovie flashed in her mind. Blood. Guts. Terror. She pushed it aside and stopped splashing—that would just alert the creature to where they were, wouldn’t it?
“Oh, God, please hurry.”
Suddenly, the water burst upward, and Wyatt’s face appeared.
“Get outta there. I’m sure I saw something.”
“There’s nothing down here.” He flicked his head to get his hair from his eyes. “Except a damn stubborn net. I’ve nearly got it though.”
“What? You haven’t freed it already?”
“No. Wait here.” He gulped in a deep breath then disappeared once more. His hair the last thing she saw of him.