Page 28 of Flint's Battle

She’s dead.

That’s all that went through Flint’s mind as Emery pitched forward off her board, a hollow pop booming through the air as she hit the water, quickly disappearing beneath the massive wave.

Sniper. And she’d definitely been hit.

He didn’t wait to see if she’d resurface. Not as the gunshot echoed around him, the deep tones vibrating through his chest. Even if she’d only been grazed, the board had smacked her in the head, and he was fairly certain she hadn’t gone into the water fully conscious.

Whether it was the way she’d spun around or the instant punch of fear in his gut, he wasn’t sure. Only that he had very little time to find her before the gunshot wound wouldn’t matter because even Kian wouldn’t be able to resuscitate her.

Flint took off, hoping whoever was behind the scope wasn’t nearly as good as he feared. He stayed low, did his best to limit any kind of viable hit as he caught the next wave — used it to get to where she’d gone under before bailing. He’d already released the leash around his ankle, allowing the board to tumble withthe wave. He doubted it would reach the shore in one piece with how it cartwheeled over, but he’d gladly buy her a new one if she made it out of the ocean alive.

He couldn’t think that way. Couldn’t believe he was already too late to be the man she needed him to be. Instead, he took a few deep breaths then dove beneath the surface, getting rolled over a second later as the wave broke above him, sending him plunging to the bottom. He hit the ocean floor, the sheer force of the water battering him against the sand and rocks until the wave passed, allowing him to move.

He didn’t surface, using the short break between cycles to start searching. She’d likely suffered the same fate and had gotten pinned to the bottom once the water had pushed her down. But where she’d been dragged after that was a mystery.

Twenty seconds…

The murky water stung his eyes as he swam along the bottom, the pressure from the punishing waves helping to keep him below the surface. But without a weight belt, he wouldn’t be able to fight against his own buoyancy for long. Not to mention he was already running out of air. The sheer effort of countering the current quickly eating up those few breaths he’d grabbed.

Not that he’d resurface before it was absolutely necessary. He couldn’t chance he’d get bowled over again — lose his place. And if he got washed into shore and had to swim back out…

She wouldn’t last that long.

Thirty seconds since she’d hit the water…

Had something moved up ahead? Had he caught a streak of black amidst the turquoise? He headed that way, getting yanked backwards when the next big wave rolled overhead, temporarily smacking him against the rocky bottom. Flint wasn’t sure when it had turned from mostly sand to rock and reef, but the sharp edges abraded his skin, leaving a nasty rash and some small cuts across his chest. None of which mattered when the churningwater dissipated the sand and muck clouding his vision, giving him a snapshot of the bottom just fifty feet in front of him. It only lasted for a few moments, but the sight stopped him cold.

Emery — her foot snagged between two pieces of coral as her body was smashed repeatedly against the ocean floor. Whether she hadn’t actually lost consciousness or had regained it a few seconds after submersing he didn’t know, but she was definitely fighting to free her foot. Though, each moment he was stuck watching her battle only highlighted that she was nearly out of air.

The slower movements. The slight pause between each effort to yank her foot free. How she wasn’t able to counter the effects of the wave as much. Another few seconds and she’d be finished.

That got him fighting harder. Struggling to move against the current and massive pressure. Seeing her snap her head his way for a split second before her body jerked as everything went limp had him laser focused. Ignoring the burning in his lungs and the scrape of the shells across his ribs as he pushed forward, using the rocks to help pull him against the current.

Forty seconds since impact…

And he was still twenty feet away. Crawling across the bottom until that wave passed on, giving him one short window to get her free before the next one came.

He didn’t have enough oxygen left to survive another round. Not with the edges of his vision starting to darken. Tiny black dots swimming in from either side.

He reached her as his internal clock hit fifty. On a good day, he’d trained to go a full two minutes underwater. But that was in ideal conditions where he was either swimming with no increased effort or staying still. Fighting the massive current as he got pummeled from above had drastically cut down that time. And he figured he had about ten seconds left to get them to the surface.

It took several just to free her foot, using another rock to smash the reef enough to slide it out. Five more to gather her in his arms — give a shove upwards. They crested the surface with just enough time for him to grab a few breaths — clear his vision — before another wave bowled them over, taking them right back down.

Seventy seconds…

And he was once again pinned to the damn bottom. Sand and gunk swirling around him, nothing visible but Emery’s still face. Her arms and legs moving with the current. She’d been without air for twenty seconds, and if he didn’t get her to Kian soon…

Flint did his best to calm his mind — wait for the ocean to let him up. It would. He knew that. Twenty years as a SEAL had taught him to trust in his training. Another few moments and he’d be able to move. Knowing those were seconds she didn’t have to spare put that training to the test. Had him shoving all that fear into a box. But for the first time in his life, he couldn’t fully lock it away. Separate it.

Not with Emery’s life on the line.

He ignored the voice in his head reminding him she was already dead as he planted his feet on the bottom then propelling himself toward the surface. The current caught him for a moment — dragged him back out thirty feet before he muscled through. Crested the water.

And he would have gotten bowled over again — probably crushed against a nearby reef — but Carter and Bowie appeared out of nowhere. Raging waves and frothing white caps one second, his buddies paddling in beside him the next. Each grabbing an arm and keeping the next roll from taking him under and killing any chance Kian might have to revive Emery.

Carter slipped into the water motioning Flint to give Emery to him. “Get on the board, brother. We’ve got fins in the water.”

Flint glanced over his head, and fuck, Carter wasn’t joking. Sharks on their six. Heading their way and coming in fast.

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