Page 88 of The Sea Witch's Son

Chapter 31

MARLIN

Gore does not bother me.

A hazard of my mother’s career path, I suppose, was an insensitivity to human flesh and decaying innards. It was strange for a child to be so unaffected by gruesome images, but I was always more curious as to what caused the screaming rather than what was left over.

The scene in front of me, however, is a different matter altogether.

My stomach clenches in the most peculiar way as I take in the red strands floating around the girl lying face-down in the middle of the pool. Her body is still buoyant, an indication she’s only been like this for a short period of time.

Good God. Could she not have drowned closer to the edge?

Grumbling to myself, I quickly unbutton my shirt. The silk material gets tossed to the side and I dive into the water without a second thought for my dress pants.

The cold water greets me like an old friend, running a hand through my hair as I swim towards Melody. Her body has just started to sink when I reach her, forcing me to dive down and wrap my arms around her.

Pulling her tight against my chest, I swim us back up to the surface. Dark red hair flows over my shoulder as I prop her up, being careful to keep her head above the water as I kick us towards the wall.

The moment its within reach, I drag Melody out onto the deck. Her head lolls to the side, the blue tinge of her lips making my own purse in frustration.

“You’re a terrible inconvenience, little saint.” Ripping her shirt aside, I start doing chest compressions, “An inconvenience that just ruined my third favourite pair of pants.”

After fifteen, I tilt her head back and breath into her mouth.

“I was looking forward to not showering until tomorrow’s practice.” Resuming the compressions, I glare down at her unconscious figure, “But you ruined that too.”

Any concept of time disappears as I keep going, repeating the pattern over and over to get her lips to open again.

“Stop being a nuisance and breathe.” Pinching her nose, I force her lungs to comply, “Breathe and spew whatever spiteful words you want at me.”

Compressions. Air.

“Come on, little saint.”

Compressions. Air.

“Wake up.”

Compressions. Air.

“Open those fucking lips and tell me how much you hate me.” My frustration unravels as something heavy lodges in my throat, “Tell me everything you hate about me. Every. Fucking. Thing.”

Compressions. Air.

Nothing.

“This is not how our story ends.” My compressions are getting more aggressive, my breaths more desperate, “Not like this. Not without me.”

When there’s no response, I start hammering on her chest. It’s brutal and ugly and someone is screaming while I try to break open her ribcage and restart her heart with my bare two hands.

Come on, little saint. Breathe.

Chapter 32

MELODY

Violet eyes.

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