Page 51 of A Girl and HER Prince
He wished there was a way to tell her that the time it would take for their knife-wielding maniac to get his diving gear back on—and by himself no less—would give them more than enough of a head start to get away.
If we don’t run out of air first.
She reached back for him and squeezed his arm to show that she was trying to signal about something ahead. Finally, he saw what she was trying to tell him. The line was gone.
Any hope they’d survive plummeted to the depths of his aching stomach and died an agonizing death. The assassin must’ve cut the diver’s line on his way to them and now that they had no red rope showing their way, they were stuck at a fork. What else could they do, but see if they could find the end of these tunnels by themselves—but which way should they go? The time to make a decision was now, and he pointed to the cavern that turned off to the right.
Her hand left his arm, and she charged ahead, moving through the tunnel while he worked on keeping an even distance behind her. The walls got tighter and narrower as they moved. Had they made the wrong decision? Would they have to go back to the fork and try again?
His stomach and arm burned from what the attacker had done to him. The only reason he wasn’t leaving a trail of blood was that the murky water was too cold, making it impossible to see how bad he’d been cut and chilling his frozen skin to the bone. He shook from the shock. For the first time since the attack, he began to wonder if he’d ever see the light of day again.
His arm brushed over the surface of the water. He’d found an air pocket. He signaled for her to follow him up.
As soon as they reached the top, he tore off his breathing apparatus to talk to her. “Maybe we should go back to the fork.”
Livvy looked torn. Her hair had gotten loose from her ponytail, and she slapped it back from her face. “What if that guy is back there waiting for us?”
“I don’t know.” At least they knew this air pocket existed if they ran out of air, but what then? No one would know where they went. He’d left his radio behind at the cave. There was no calling anyone to help them out of here. By the time anyone got to them, it might be too late.
“You’re bleeding!” Her gaze followed the crimson foam against his forearm. “Why would someone try to kill you?”
He groaned. She had no idea what was happening! “I’m sorry you got involved. The Myrdons, they—they want me dead. They’re terrorists from my country. They think I’m a threat to—to their cause, and so… someone on our ship must’ve told him where we went.”
His thoughts were a chaotic mess, and still he choked over what he’d just said. There weren’t that many people who would’ve knownexactlywhere they were. None of the handful of random guests on his yacht would’ve guessed—only the ones who’d come with them on today’s excursion.
A sick feeling permeated him as he thought over which of their friends could be behind this. Deedee was on the warpath to get at Venice, but she wasn’t a murderer. Achilles? No, never! Venice might as well think his sister had done it. Turner? His nice guy shtick could be an act.
He hated this! Why did the informer have to be any of them? Deedee had put a lot of their trip on social media, but she hadn’t said anything about their exact location. Could any of her viewers have figured out where they’d gone by using landmarks?
No, that assassin had been waiting for him. He’d have to know they were coming before they got there.
Nothing was adding up.
“How do you feel?” Livvy asked him. “Where did he get you with that knife? Is it deep?”
He found the jagged rip across his stomach; there was a deeper stab wound on his forearm that was an ugly mess. For now the water was keeping back the worst of the bleeding—that meant no main arteries were cut, but everywhere that knife had gone stung and pulsated with pain the longer he stewed like a slab of beef in this salty sea. “I’ll be fine.”
She didn’t look so sure. “We’ve got to keep going,” she said. “If that bleeding gets worse… I don’t know. I don’t think we can go back that way. We just have to hope…”
… that they were going the right way, or they were dead.
He nodded. “How much air do we have left?”
She checked. “Forty-one percent.”
That wasn’t bad. He was glad that he’d given her his tank back in the cave, and yet he was already feeling dizzy. That could be the adrenaline, the shock, the injuries, or everything altogether, but he was in real danger of fainting down here. They didn’t have much time.
“Yes, okay, let’s try.” He grabbed her secondary air supply again and put it to his mouth before taking the plunge back down into the water.
He had to pray that they’d find a way out soon. There was nothing else left for them. The limestone walls formed a familiar stretch ahead, and they followed the dark passageway as it tightened around them. His despair threatened to choke him. They’d definitely gone the wrong way.
That’s when he saw the light ahead. It was almost too incredible to be believed; that meant the surface of the water was almost within their grasp. As soon as they reached the opening, his heart took another nosedive. After that brief burst of hope, this all felt like a rollercoaster. The opening out was too narrow for her to get through with her tank! He’d have to get her vest off her back.
Unfortunately, there was no dive signal for that one that he knew of.
Probably because to do that was suicide.
And still, with a raging maniac after them, what else could they do? Pointing his thumb up, he hoped she’d get the message to stay in place for him to get her vest off. It was the only way to swim through the opening and ascend. The surface glimmered tantalizingly above them. Freedom was so close. The water was bright turquoise under the light.
