Page 62 of The Darkness Within

Like he either didn’t hear him or is ignoring him, Brandt submerges under the water again, swimming to the other side of the pool and back while holding one breath. When he comes up for air, he shakes his head again, spraying West, and sticks his finger in his ear.

Maybe he’s got water in it?

“Brandt!” West sends a volley of water flying his way. “Brandt,” he calls out louder.

Finally, he turns toward West. “What’s up?”

I slip into the pool and join them in the deep end. Instead of pointing out what happened or acting annoyed, West smiles affectionately. “Can you give us a hand?”

“Sorry,” Brandt apologizes, making his way toward them.

I recall him sharing in the group about losing his hearing. I’m glad for him that he has a partner who understands his challenges. A partner who looks at him like that and loves him like crazy, in spite of his body failing him. It gives the rest of us hope.

“Don’t you have to be short one leg to join this synchronized swim team?”

Maybe because he’s looking at me, Brandt hears me, and he laughs. “I guess you could say I’ve got a ‘leg up’.”

McCormick takes him down, dunking his head under the water, and when he lets him up, Brandt spits a mouthful of water into McCormick’s face. “Not cool, man,” McCormick barks. “Only people with one leg can make leg jokes.”

“Yeah, well, between the two of us, West and I have three legs total, so really each of us has one and a half, so that qualifies me.”

“He’s right,” Riggs calls out, “he’s on the team.”

These guys are nuts. Maybe this isn’t as bad as spending an hour pounding the treadmill. Just because we’re in the water doesn’t mean Riggs gives us a break, though. By the time we’re done swimming laps and dragging weights attached to our legs as we walk across the shallow end—just me and Brandt on that one—my legs feel as weak and wiggly as jelly.

In the locker room, I switch back to my jeans and West asks, “Are you gonna join us for group after this?”

“I can’t. I’ve got to meet up with Brewer for therapy. He’s gonna work some kind of magic mojo on my head.”

“All right, I’ll knit you a swim cap. So you don’t get your hair wet next time,” he teases.

Asshole. Yeah, he made me smile. “Hey, can you guys do me a favor?”

“Sure, name it.”

“Can you babysit for me?”

From the second I enter Brewer’s office, I’m pissed. At least, highly annoyed. Dropping a notepad on the table, he pushes to his feet, greeting me with a huge, silly grin.

“How was your workout?”

Glaring at him, I take a seat on the couch, since my legs aren’t strong enough to continue standing, and I continue to glare, grilling him with my piercing gaze.

“What?” He laughs, pretending like he has no clue.

“You know what!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he says, taking a seat across from me.

“You led me to believe we were going for a swim. Together. Alone.”

“Did I? How…regretful. I can’t imagine how we got our wires crossed. But as long as you had a good workout, that’s all that matters.”

“I did,” I gripe.

“Where’s your little shadow?”

“He’s knitting swim caps with West and McCormick.”

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