Locked (Savage Men 2)

She’s struggling to stay afloat, using a thick tree branch as an oar.

And then the boat suddenly flips over.

“Jules!” I scream.

She doesn’t come up.

I jump into the water and swim as fast as I can. I don’t give a damn that I’m bad at swimming or that it could kill me if I go too deep because the waves are so strong. I have to save her.

As I run in, my foot scratches along some of the sharp rocks. Sharp pain makes me grunt, but I still push on.

Fuck. I can’t stop.

I plow ahead through the water, using every bit of strength I have. The salty water enters my nose, and I cough and wheeze but keep on going.

I don’t fucking give up.

Ever.

Not when it comes to her.

Not even when the salty water stings my foot.

Not even when my muscles start to hurt from the sloshing waves.

I won’t stop … because she is my woman. And I have to save her from herself.

When I finally get to the flipped boat, I scream her name. “Jules!”

I dive down and try to look around, but there’s nothing except fish and shells and coral. Where the hell is she?

I come up to get air.

That’s when I spot her to my left, not far from the boat. “Jules!”

I swim to her and quickly grab her, pulling her up to my body so her head stays above the water. She’s not awake yet, so I softly pat her face and say, “C’mon, Jules. Stay with me.”

A moment later, she chokes and coughs up water. She gargles and sputters as I pull her back to the boat.

“Hold on,” I say as I grab it.

“Fuck …” she mumbles as she grabs the wood and throws herself onto the top.

She’s breathing in and out as loudly as I am, but I’m not done yet.

I push the wood all the way back to the beach with her on top while she groans and comes back to the land of the living.

When we reach the shore, I pull her off and hold her in my arms as I walk onto the sand. I don’t stop until we’re safe from the waves, then place her on the ground and collapse beside her.

We’re alive.

For now.

Chapter Twenty-One

Accompanying Song: “Again” by Noah Cyrus

Juliet

I stare up at the darkened sky and continue to cough up water. It all happened so fast. One moment, I was still in the boat, floating toward freedom, and the next, I was in the water, struggling to breathe. The waves were so damn high … I didn’t expect them to be that rough.

That boat did not provide enough stability. I should know better.

Luckily, I don’t think I swallowed that much water. Lock came to my aid so quickly … it amazes me. I didn’t expect him to know where I went, but maybe I gave it away when I told him about the boat.

“What the hell were you doing out there?” Lock barks, still breathing heavily.

I can barely think when he’s shouting at me like that.

I know I fucked up, but he doesn’t have to be that harsh on me.

I cough some more and then lean up.

“Going home, what else should I be doing?” My voice is still croaky, but I manage.

“You can’t go home in that thing!” he shouts, leaning up on his elbows. “If I knew you were trying to escape with a fucking boat, I would’ve put a stop to that right away.”

“It’s not your call to make!” I yell back, sitting up too now even though I still feel queasy from swallowing the salty water.

“So what? You’re just gonna keep trying to piss me off?” he growls.

“Yes. If that’s what it takes to get home …”

“You could’ve died!”

His sharp tone immediately makes me shut up. I tug a strand of my wet hair behind my ears and grab my legs, pulling them up toward me.

He’s right. I could’ve died.

If he hadn’t been there to save me, I would have.

No way could I have swum back to shore the way he did.

He’s still out of it, still breathing loudly as though he’s run out of air. And he did it to save me.

Tears well up in my eyes. “I … I’m sorry.” I choke on my own words.

I’m not even sure if I mean them. A part of me is sorry for doing this to him. For making him go through all that. For making him suffer. But another part desperately wants to go home.

“Why? Why do you keep doing this? Is it so bad to live here? With me?” he asks.

His words cut into my soul.

“No,” I say, gazing at him from the corner of my eyes. I can barely say the words. “But I…”

“Tell me … please, Jules.” He grabs my hand and squeezes. “I want you to be mine. But you won’t let me.”