Chapter 28

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Kindra

W hen I was busy worrying about my lungs exploding, I failed to consider the other dangers in the ocean. Like sharks. That's the first thing I think of when I see the blood.

I don't take time to think about how weird it feels to breathe underwater. I kick my legs and swim down. I don't know what I plan to do if I find the shark with my half-eaten lover in his mouth, but I'll figure it out when I find them.

The blood begins to clear, and I have a better view of what waits below. Instead of discovering a shark, I find myself in a minefield of people chained to anchors. They float in the underwater current, their hands secured behind their backs and a chain bolted around their ankles. They all wear scuba gear that looks identical to ours.

One of the Cattle is missing its head, which explains the blood. A large, dark figure freely swims near the body. That must be Ice Pick, but where the fuck is Ezra?

I feel a tug on my ankle and look directly below. One of the Cattle has managed to break free from the bindings around their wrists, and now they have a firm grip on me. And they're pulling me down.

The hands claw at the wetsuit, and I let them bring me close enough that I can slash my flipper against their head. I'm trying to knock their regulator loose, but these damned flippers make it difficult to put any real force into a downward kick. It's like fighting in a fucking nightmare.

Then, just as quickly as the hand grabbed me, it releases its hold. I look down again. Using Ice Pick's machete, Ezra has chopped my assailant's arm clean the fuck off. He looks up at me and waves with the disembodied arm, and I can't tell if I want to kiss him or kill him.

In one smooth motion, Ezra cuts the Cattle's airline and motions for me to follow him. We swim away from the writhing, one-armed asshole and head toward the less volatile group.

There are no markers to indicate which of the Cattle are our preferred targets, so I'm hesitant to make an unprovoked kill. Drowning an innocent won't give me the warm fuzzies.

Another red cloud creeps toward us as Ice Pick slashes the stomach of one of the Cattle. A school of flashy silver fish move in unison toward the organs spilling from the gash in the wetsuit. Like shining metal needles, they dart in and out of the lengthening rope of intestines. Despite the heavy blood loss and the fish literally eating them alive, the injured figure continues to squirm.

Did they deserve that fate? The uncertainty eats away at me, and I turn away from the horrific scene. It boils down to this: I'm not the hardened killer most people believe I am. I don't enjoy death, but I do enjoy punishing someone who deserves it. The motive matters.

Sensing my hesitancy, Ezra motions for me to come closer. I swim nearer, and he points to the back of each Cattle's diving mask. The straps are color coded, just like the jumpsuits. The person Ice Pick attacked is red.

My body relaxes, and the creeping nausea recedes.

I give Ezra a thumbs up and swim to another floating figure. Once I check the strap color, I pull the mask from the Cattle's face. I want to see the fear in his eyes when I end him.

Ezra and I didn't bring any weapons along, so an old-fashioned drowning will have to do. Instead of removing the regulator from his mouth, I swim behind him and cut the oxygen at its source. The effect is almost immediate.

His legs begin to shift and strain, and he struggles so frantically against the binding around his wrists that the skin begins to slough away in white strips. The nearby fish make quick work of the snacks on offer, and I feel like a princess in some twisted underwater fairytale.

I swim to his front again. Despite the lack of air, the Cattle holds the regulator firmly between his teeth. His jaw clenches, and his cheeks cave inward with each desperate yearning for a breath that won't come. A dark cloud fogs the water around his crotch, and I realize he's shit himself.

With a flick of our fins, Ezra and I move down the line, pulling regulators as we go. When we turn and face our creation, I have to stifle a laugh. The wiggling bodies look like participants in an underwater rave. The bubbles pouring from the gaping mouths catch bits of light, and the fish moving around them flicker with shades of pink, silver, and orange.

There are still a few more Cattle further down, but we leave those for Ice Pick. He seems to be having a grand time with his machete as another head drops to the ocean floor in a cloud of red.

Ezra grabs something from the sand, then motions for me to follow him. As we swim, the water brightens as the seabed rises a few feet and a reef comes into view.

Coral, seaweed, and colorful fish spread in front of us. The water shifts from a murky blue to a bright azure, and it's as if I've been transported into another place entirely. Then Ezra shows me what he grabbed from the killing field. It's the arm he chopped away.

Ezra wiggles the arm toward the fish, and I understand what he means for me to do. I only feel bad that he can't feed them as well. Then again, I guess he does this sort of thing every year.

As I take the arm from him, his cheeks lift into a smile. He's so excited to share this little moment with me. His hand moves up my arm, and he shows me how to wiggle the stump at the limb's fleshy end to entice the fish closer. Bits of blood and tissue disperse into the water, and the fish turn toward us.

We're surrounded, lost in a swirl of flashing colors. I recognize none of the species, but they're each unique and beautiful. In their own little groups, they dart forward and snag bits of flesh before zipping in another direction. Goosebumps rise on my skin, and I tear up. This is truly a magical moment.

A shadow moves over us, dark and threatening, and I look toward the surface. I expect to see a shark looming overhead, but what I discover is so much worse.

Mere feet above my diving mask, Grim's wrinkly cock cuts a path through the waves. Beside him, her hand gripped firmly in his, swims a naked Maudlin Rose. Her pale nipples cling to the ends of her sagging breasts and do their best to stay attached as they wave in the current. Instead of scuba gear, they've chosen to wear only snorkeling masks and flippers.

They look down at us and wave with their free hands. Ezra and I return the greeting, though I look away as Grim's balls bob into view. I've opened myself up to getting closer to others, but this is a little too close.

The magic moment ruined, I motion to Ezra that I'd like to surface. He gives the signal, and we begin to rise. I make a point to keep my eyes averted from the pair of butts floating by on my left.

Ezra pulls the regulator from his mouth. "Are you ready to head back to the boat?"

I nod and do the same. "Yeah, Grim's dangling doodle kind of killed the mood."

"Understood," he says with a laugh.

We swim back to the boat, and hauling myself out of the water takes the last of my strength. I didn't realize how many muscle groups I use to swim, and I'm sure to be sore tomorrow.

Ezra leads me below deck once more, and we hang up the gear and change into our clothes.

"When we first entered the water, I thought a shark had gotten you," I say as we leave the small room. "There was all this blood, and I couldn't find you."

He grips my hand at the bottom of the stairs and turns me so that I'm facing him. "I didn't mean to worry you, pet. I thought you were right behind me. But just out of curiosity, what would you have done had that been the case?"

"I guess I would have been fighting a shark."

"Buzzing," he says before kissing me. "I'm absolutely buzzing, pet. My tough little American is willing to take on a shark to save her man."

A blush blooms on my cheeks as he makes me feel like a teenager in love. It's not a familiar feeling, but I refuse to be confused by the butterflies and fireworks. I'm just going to embrace this moment and hope he feels the same.

We ascend the stairs and sit on the upper deck. In the distance—thankfully too far off for me to make out any details—Grim and Rose continue floating on the surface. Red clouds occasionally stream upward, which means Ice Pick is still busy below them.

For this moment, it's just the two of us.

Difficult questions crowd my mouth, but my lips are a steel trap. I'm too nervous to ask him what we are or what we could be. As much as I want the truth, sometimes the truth hurts.

"You're cute when you're lost in thought. Did you know that?" he says. He leans closer and brushes my hair over my shoulder. "You do this cute little thing with your mouth where you push it to one side and chew your inner cheek."

I hadn't even realized I was doing it, but I stop now that it's been pointed out.

"What's on your mind?" he asks.

"Everything," I say on an outbreath. "I don't want to bother you with my silly girl thoughts, though."

"None of your thoughts are silly, and if it's bothering you, I want you to share it with me. Talk to me, Kindra."

"Okay, for starters, why? Why do you want me to share my troubles with you?" I turn to face him.

The light clicks on in his head, and he understands what this is really about. "I want you to share your thoughts with me because I care about what you think. I care about you ."

"Do you mean for this trip? Or does that care extend beyond tomorrow?"

He cups my chin and raises my lips to his. "I care about you for this trip, yes, but I want to care about you for much longer. Maybe even for as long as you'll let me."

I close my eyes and lose myself in his kiss. His hands move through my hair, pulling my head closer, but I feel him everywhere. When we kiss, it's as if our souls touch.

"I'm falling for you," he whispers against my lips. He pulls back and runs his thumb over my cheek. "No matter what happens, I want you to know that this moment is real. Don't ever question it."

"No matter what happens?" I cough up a nervous laugh and lean back. "Is there something you aren't telling me?"

He stares into my eyes, but he doesn't answer me.