Wicked Nights (Men of Discovery Island 2)

Unfortunately, he wasn’t helping her to help him. He thrashed away from her, his fins drilling into her legs. She’d bruise tomorrow, but bruises weren’t the problem. She needed to calm him down and then get him to the surface. She finally caught a peek at his gauge and, holy trouble, Batman. He’d turned the valve the wrong way and was dangerously low on gas.

She pointed to the bottom, and his eyes widened almost comically. He wanted to ascend now. She understood, but if he went up too fast from fifty feet, he’d have a date with the decompression chamber. Sal was a pompous, arrogant windbag, but she wouldn’t wish a case of the bends on her worst enemy. Unfortunately, he looked like he was beyond reason.

She sank down to the bottom, tugging on him. If she could get him to kneel, she could at least close his valve and salvage any remaining gas while she got him to buddy breathe with her, but he kept on twisting away from her, trying to keep the shark in his line of vision. Grabbing her dive slate, she scrawled, “Stop. Kneel. I’ve got you.”

Her answer was another hard explosion of bubbles, Sal’s labored breathing filling her ears as he grabbed for her regulator, clearly determined to fix this problem for himself.

* * *

AT PRECISELY FORTY-FIVE minutes, Carla popped to the surface. Cal checked his watch. She’d sped up her ascent. Behind her, Ben surfaced.

“I need another tank,” Carla yelled, swimming hard for the boat.

Nope. He’d heard wrong. Carla was done for the day, so why would she need more gas? He eyeballed the area. There was no sign of Daeg yet, but he’d mentioned earlier that his diver might not try shooting the chute. He didn’t see Piper and Sal, however, and the nonsighting was a problem. His senses went on full alert.

“What’s the issue?” He reached down a hand to help her board.

“Piper’s guy ran out of air.”

Sal outweighed Piper almost two to one. He’d be a heavy breather anyhow, and if he panicked... Cal should have gone. He should have known Sal was going to be nothing but trouble. Instead, he’d let Piper step in for him.

“If they have to buddy breathe, they’ll take the longer surface swim. I’m going to jump with another tank so we can speed that process up.”

“I’ll go,” he said.

Falling into a mission mindset was easy. Stop. Assess. Act. Moving rapidly, he grabbed gear, loading the lift swiftly before flying up the path, forcing the air in and out of his lungs in a steady rhythm. He wouldn’t be any good to Piper and Sal if he winded himself. At the top, Carla helped him gear up, her eyes scanning the ocean below them.

“I still don’t see them,” she said. “They should have surfaced inside the bay or out.”

“Walk me through it.” He moved to the edge.

Jumping was the easy part. The part after was the problem. Carla hesitated, her hand on his tank.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

She was female and she’d dived twice today. Neither of them needed him to point out that her build put her at a disadvantage in this race. He was bigger and he was fresh. Carrying double tanks wasn’t a challenge for him—and it was his job, his contract, his...Piper down there.

He nodded. “I’m good.”

“Okay. We dived, and Piper led us through the course you’d mapped up. We were at the final meeting point, taking turns ascending, when Sal ran into a problem. Based on what I saw, I’m guessing he ran low on air and hyperventilated.”

There was still no sign of divers on the surface, but he couldn’t see the open water where Daeg and his companion were.

“You’re good.” Carla slapped his shoulder. “She’s probably got this, but—”

But taking the chance was stupid. Normally, he’d stick with the boat, maybe motor around to see if he could spot them, but a two-hundred-twenty-pound man with a chip on his shoulder and no air was a recipe for disaster.

He stepped onto the edge.

Looked down.

Big mistake. He’d dived from this cliff dozens, if not hundreds, of times before, but his head was reminding him that he couldn’t dive anymore, and his legs locked up, refusing to take him past the edge. Once he jumped, there was no do over. No going back. With the weight belt and the double tanks, he’d sink hard and fast. He didn’t want to jump, but that was his head talking. His heart knew right where he belonged. He couldn’t stay out of the water when Piper was risking it all.

“Get back to the boat,” he said to Carla. “Bring it around the breakwater. Keep an eye out for Daeg and Margie, and I’ll bring Sal and Piper to the surface wherever they are.”

“Got it.” She hesitated and then stepped back. “Good luck.”