JACK
Sage’s head bobbed below the surface of the water yet again. Beckett always told me I had an unreasonable sense of responsibility for the life of every human within five miles of me, but watching Sage in the water was worse than anything I’d experienced. It was like slitting my wrists, one small cut at a time. A panic set in, so outside my normal range of emotions that the feeling jolted me. The lack of air moving into my chest made it feel like I was drowning with her, even though I stood there on shore, an unflinching, useless ass.
How long could I go before I broke my own rules and went to her, even without my dad’s permission? At what point would I give it all away?
I would do it if I had to, but I needed to use my brains and come up with a better way so all my best-laid plans didn’t go to rot. Besides, I had a sinking suspicion this was as much a test for me and my loyalties as it was for Sage and her secrets. My dad, the bastard, wanted to see if I would break.
Think, you idiot. She’s drowning.
I spoke in an even voice, playing the game. “Will it be useful to have her dead so soon?”
My dad seemed to contemplate as he watched Sage’s head bob below water for longer intervals of time.
After another twenty seconds and sounding disappointed, he said, “Fine. Go get her. Once you get her back to shore, ask her if she’s ready to tell us anything. Then bring her up to the arena to see the recruits before dinner.”
I nodded once, stiffly, unable to concentrate on anything besides Sage.
In that moment, as my father walked away, I had to work harder to control myself than I had in my entire life. I strained against the desire to dive directly into the ocean. Instead, I took myself through the torturous, nonchalant removal of my boots, the stripping of my fatigues into the black tights and shirt below. I strode into the water, all the while watching Sage’s head bob below the surface of the water and wondering if it was the last time she’d come back up.
When the water hit my waist, I cast a glance back at my dad. He already walked up the beach, heading toward the side of the building. That was all I needed.
I wasted no more time. I sprung into my full capabilities, the bottled-up energy bursting into every muscle fiber as I dove under the water. I felt the adrenaline coursing through my muscles as I pulled one arm out in front of me, then the other. My legs pumped hard, and the water rushed over my skin as I cut a solid line through it straight to Sage.
On the rare occasions, when I gave everything I had like this, the energy was uncontainable. I felt it shooting through all parts of me, like an electric force, a separate, singular power all its own.
I reached her in less than twenty seconds, without coming up for air, though she’d been a full sixty yards out.
She was sinking. I ripped the weight off her waist and grabbed her by the arm, the salt-water burning my eyes as I pushed to the surface. I rested Sage on my back, wrapped her arms around my neck, held them with one hand, and began to swim to shore with the other. Her head hung lifeless to the side and required extra care to keep above water. It took me longer than before, and required more leg power, but within forty-five seconds, I was back to the beach, dragging her out of the water and onto the sand.
I knew I’d just swam faster than last year’s Olympic gold medal winner in the 50 m freestyle. It didn’t matter. If Sage and her brother died, I was screwed anyway. They were my key to getting the code, the final option I had left.
My eyes refused to linger on the hint of blue that was just beginning to show on her face. I forced myself not to focus on her limp body, on the lifeless splay of her arms. I pressed my palms to her sternum. After four compressions against her chest, Sage started coughing up water and rolled to her side—sooner and more easily than I expected. I sat back onto my heels, masking the relief that washed through me, wiping salt-water from my eyes.
I ignored a voice in the back of my head telling me that my relief was not just because of the code. I wouldn’t let myself think that it might be something deeper, that there was something about her specifically that made me relieved she hadn’t drown, something beyond the code and my sense of responsibility for life itself.
I shoved the thought deep, deep down. Getting attached to anybody, at any time, could not happen for me. Could never happen for me. Not when I intended to follow through with my entire plan. Not when I’d be dead within the month, if possible.
As I watched her slender frame shake from the coughing, that feeling tried to push its way into my consciousness, and I resisted the urge to reach out to her. I’d never admit it, but it was that inexplicable pull making me want to touch her. I didn’t want to feel it, and the fact that I did made me angry. This was different than attraction. I’d come across plenty of attractive girls, and when I wanted to turn it off, I turned it off. I stayed in control, and I was never controlled, especially not by thoughts which came unbidden.
When Sage stopped coughing, she groaned and rolled onto her back again. She remained there for a minute before pressing herself to sitting. Sand stuck to her wet tights and shirt.
What do I say to someone who just nearly died? I wasn’t good at stuff like this, talking with people in vulnerable moments, definitely not when I felt pissy already. So I just stood slowly without saying a word, then reached my hand down, offering it to her.
She swatted it away and stood shakily to her feet. She did not look at me, did not thank me, did not curse me to the depths of hell—which I expected, kind of wanted, actually. The girl did not say anything at all, only started moving up the beach toward the building.
I picked up my boots and fatigues and followed.