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“I’d been told the yacht sank in a shark breeding ground,” I said. “Guess they were right.”
“Jesus. Look at the size of that one.”
“It’s a grey nurse,” I said. The shark was only five feet long. “Not the biggest one I’ve seen.”
His eyes grew to the size of bottle tops. “What does this mean to the salvage plans?”
“It means I’ll need to watch my back.”
His jaw dropped. “You’re still going down there?”
I washed the bucket out in the water. A three-foot shark darted my way, just about taking a chunk out of the bucket before I snatched it back. “Nosy bugger.”
“Seriously, Indiana, are you going down there?”
“Not right now. Sunset is when they’re hungry.” I climbed up the steps. “I don’t have a choice. Unless you can dive?”
His gaze darted to the water, where a pair of sharks cruised back and forth past the dive platform as if they were putting on a show to earn more food.
His expression twisted like he was tossing up how to answer.
I clapped his shoulder. “It’s okay. You can stay up here where it’s safe and protect me.”
I used finger quotes to emphasize my point.
He glared at me before he swept his gaze across the ocean again.
“Don’t worry. Kingsley. We’re all alone out here.”
“That’s what worries me. Is it normal to see no boats this far out?”
“Yep. We’re in another world.”
Nodding, he scanned the ocean again, and his brows drilled into a frown.
“Trust me, Kingsley, there’s nobody around for miles. Come on, I’m hungry.” Swinging the bucket, I strolled to the hut.
Dad sat in his favorite spot on the leather sofa with a whiskey in his hand and his feet propped up on the coffee table.
I opened the fridge and scowled. “What’s all this shit?”
I pulled out a bottle of orange juice and eyeballed Tyler.
“I brought supplies. Help yourself.”
Huffing, I put the juice away, grabbed a beer, and reluctantly handed it to Tyler. “Want one?”
“Sure.” He reached for the bottle and studied the label. “So, you like cheap coffee but expensive beer.”
“Ryder gave me the beer for helping him save Piper and Scout.” I grabbed a bottle of Heads of Noosa Pale Lager for myself. “Wise-ass.”
He sipped the beer and nodded at my dad. “Speaking of saving Scout, I heard you found that drug hideout in the middle of the Everglades.”
Dad shrugged. “It was nothing.”
“I’ve been out to that drug den. It was in the middle of nowhere. It’s a miracle you found that place.”
“Not really,” Dad said. “Just followed their tracks.”
