“I’ve gone over it a hundred times. I can’t see any other way. She left me, Dane. Up and left. Took my kids. You saw what that did to me. It sent me right over the edge. I can’t afford to be in that place, and losing my family would do that to me. If she left for good, I’d be back on the bottle in no time.” Rob held Dane’s stare. “We’ve had a good run of it.”
“Had a good—Rob, do you hear yourself? Shit.” Dane stood and paced. “Maybe you should have waited to tell me. How the hell are we gonna be placid down there with this shit hanging over us?”
“This shit is my life, Dane.” Rob rose to his feet, planting his hands on his wide hips.
Dane looked at him and shook his head, then blew out a frustrated breath. “I’m sorry. I get it. I don’t want you to lose your family. You know that. But hell, Rob, I don’t want to lose you either. You’re my partner, man. We’re like two sides of a coin. We don’t balance without each other.” He swung his arm over Rob’s shoulder. “This is really the only option?”
Dane felt as if his left leg had been ripped off, but if Rob were Rex, Treat, or any of his siblings, he’d support his decision to be with his family, and damn if Rob wasn’t just as important to Dane as they were. He took a deep breath and blew it out slowly.
“So I guess this is our last dive mission together?” he asked.
Rob shrugged. “As I said, I can’t see another way around it.” He scrubbed his face with his hands. “Man, if there were any other way…”
Dane heard the defeat in his low voice. “It’s okay, Rob. It sucks ass, but you’re right. Family has to come first.” His mind drifted to Lacy, and no matter how he turned it over in his mind, he knew that if they’d had a family and she said she’d leave, he’d probably do the same damn thing. “Hell, does it have to be all or nothing?”
“Whaddaya mean?” Rob asked.
“I’ll still need a guy to run the boat, someone to work the deck. No water work. No tagging, no diving. Would Sheila be okay with that?” Dane hoped Rob would take him up on the offer. Losing Rob altogether would be too much for Dane to handle. It would really feel like losing one of his siblings.
“Not sure,” Rob said. “I can’t see why not, but, Dane, you’d have to raise more funds. You’d have to hire another diver and train them. You probably can’t absorb the extra expense.”
Rob knew about Dane’s trust fund, and he also knew how Dane felt about dipping into it. But for Rob, Dane didn’t care if he had funding or not. He’d make it happen. “Dude, what does my dad always say?”
“Family knows no boundaries,” Rob said with a smile.
“That’s right. And you and Sheila are family. If Sheila okay’s with it, then it’s a done deal. And we’ll work out a schedule where you’re home most of every month. I need you around a little, too. Like a security blanket.” Dane nudged his arm.
Rob pretended to punch Dane in the gut. “Sissy.” He laughed. “Thanks, man.” “Hey, let’s take another half an hour and chill before we dive,” Dane suggested. With free diving, the diver needed to be in a calm mental state. They needed to be balanced. If either Dane or Rob was feeling agitated, he would jeopardize the dive.
“Good. I was just thinking the same thing,” Rob said.
Thirty minutes later, Dane was breathing easier and Rob was joking with one of the other divers, which further eased Dane’s mind. He took stock of his own emotions. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, weighing his frustrations. Rob was doing what he had to do. He loved Rob, and the last thing he wanted was for him to end up on the bottle for good. He’s doing the right thing. Dane opened his eyes feeling calm and confident.
He patted Rob on the back. “Are you gonna be okay on this dive? You wanna sit out?”
“I’m good,” Rob said. “Let’s do this.”
While the other two divers donned their gloves, boots, and wet suits and prepared their spear guns and goggles, Dane and Rob slipped into the murky water, knowing that after they descended, the other divers would remain at the water’s surface, flapping their hands and kicking their feet to attract sharks, and if that didn’t work, they’d throw a bit of chum in the water.
Dane and Rob kicked straight down, descending about forty feet, where they reached neutral buoyancy. The ocean stopped pushing them toward the surface and started pulling them toward the floor. With their arms by their sides, they sank effortlessly to the ocean floor. Rob swam away to Dane’s right. They crossed their legs and waited on the sandy bottom. After only a minute, Dane saw the dark shadowy figure of a shark approaching. He ascended slowly, knowing Rob would be doing the same. The shark was twenty feet away, ten, and nearing quickly.
This sucker's about nine feet. Dane looked for Rob, and in the murky depths, he made out a figure a football field away to his right, rising parallel to him. They rose in sync with each other to a depth of roughly twenty-five feet. The shark torpedoed past Rob, and Dane saw Rob change directions, ascending at an angle toward the boat. A breath away from Dane, the shark shot up toward the surface. Dane followed in its wake through the murky water. The shark disappeared from view. Two minutes. Dane spotted the diver’s feet kicking at the surface . He scanned the area for Rob, searching for the familiar blur of his powerful legs kicking, his streamlined body angling upward, but Rob was nowhere in sight. He turned to his left, then to his right, wishing the water were clearer. His line of sight was too murky. He squinted, trying to pull Rob’s shape from the depths of the sea, when the shark burst through the darkness and sped past Dane. Dane shot toward the right, then spun around and searched again for Rob—and spotted him floating lifelessly, his arms out to his sides, his neck hanging limply forward. Fear shocked him into action. Dane swam faster than he ever had to Rob’s side, his heart hammering against his chest, emergency procedures running through his mind. He grabbed ahold of Rob beneath his armpits and kicked for all he was worth toward the surface. Damn it. Move. Move. Hang on, buddy! Hang on! His lungs burned. His muscles were on fire despite the cold water as he kicked against the helpless weight of Rob’s body. Every foot he ascended felt like a mile as he pushed his lungs past their limit and silently prayed for Rob’s life to be spared. The other divers came into view. Dane couldn’t think past the need to get Rob out of the water. The divers swept down a few feet from the surface. They grabbed Rob and pulled his lifeless body into the boat. Dane burst through the surface gasping for air. Rob. Save Rob. He pushed through the dizziness that threatened to steal his ability to think and hauled himself into the boat. Each breath burned deeper than the one before.
“What the fuck happened?” He bent over Rob’s mouth, listening for breathing sounds beyond his own hard pants. No breath. He fisted his hand and smashed it into the center of Rob’s chest. Dane’s body shook with fear. His lungs still burned, but he didn’t notice or care. “Come on. Come on! Radio it in. Get the fuck to shore!” He felt for a pulse. No pulse. Dane administered another precordial thump to the center of Rob’s chest. Rob’s face was ashen, his lips tinged blue.
“He got hit in the head by the shark’s tail,” one of the guys yelled.
Dane’s felt for a pulse. Dear God, no. With tears streaming down his face, Dane channeled all of his fear and all of his muscle into a third precordial thump. “Come on, you bastard!” He grabbed Rob’s wrist. “Faint pulse. Get a fucking blanket.” He bent over Rob’s face and listened for breathing sounds. Someone covered Rob’s legs with heavy blankets.
“He’s not breathing,” Dane yelled. He couldn’t hear past the roar of the engine as they neared shore. He tilted Rob’s head back and held his nose closed; then Dane covered Rob’s mouth with his own and blew a desperate, heavy breath into his friend’s lungs. He lowered his ear to Rob’s mouth. “Come on. Come on,” he said through gritted teeth. He covered Rob’s mouth with his own again and breathed life into Rob’s lungs again, then listened for Rob’s breathing to kick in. “Fuck.” Again he titled Rob’s head back, plugged his nose, and covered his friend’s mouth with his. He breathed air from his lungs into Rob’s until he had no more air to breathe. Water dribbled from the corner of Rob’s mouth. “Oh God, thank you.” He bent over and listened again. Rob’s shallow breathing was music to his ears. His pulse was thready. Dane yanked the blankets to Rob’s rib cage; then he began chest compressions one second apart. Sixteen, seventeen, eighteen…When he hit thirty, he breathed for Rob again. He had to help the blood flow through his friend’s body. His arms trembled and shook as he administered thirty more compressions, then breathed air into Rob’s lungs.
Dane was still hunkered over Rob, counting compressions, when the rescue team climbed onto the boat. “Nineteen, twenty…”
“We got him from here,” someone said.