Page 46 of Death of a Grill Master

She had checked it.

She reached for the alternate air source.

Still nothing.

The serenity of the cove evaporated. Her vision tunneled. She waved wildly, her eyes wide behind the mask, trying not to gulp water in a reflexive gasp. A scream bubbled in her chest.

Zane was just ahead, his back turned.

She kicked frantically, spinning in slow motion. The surface seemed far. Her chest burned.

She waved again—finally, Zane turned.

He spotted her flailing and shot toward her in powerful strokes, regulator already extended.

He shoved it toward her and jammed it into her mouth.

Air.

Sweet, blessed air.

He held her close, signaling for slow, steady breathing. He guided her upward, arm around her like a harness, careful to avoid rapid ascent.

They broke the surface in a rush of gasps and froth.

Hayley clawed off her mask, coughing and sputtering. Zane pulled her to the rocks, dragging her up until she collapsed, face to the sky, her chest heaving.

“What the hell happened?” he demanded, breathless.

She could barely speak. “No air. My tank—empty.”

Zane stared at her, stunned. “That’s not possible. I checked the tank myself.”

“Well, it was dry,” she rasped. “I almost drowned.”

He ran a hand through his soaked hair, pacing. “Okay, okay—sometimes, if the O-ring isn’t sealed properly, you can get a slow leak. It’s rare, but it happens. Or maybe the valve wasn’t fully open. But I double-checked everything!”

“You handed me a faulty tank,” she said flatly. “That’s not nothing, Zane.”

His eyes snapped to hers. “Are you actually accusing me of trying to kill you?”

“I’m saying it’s convenient. You knew I was asking questions. This could’ve been a warning.”

He looked like she’d slapped him. “Seriously? That’s what you think of me?”

Hayley didn’t answer. She was too busy replaying the suffocating moment when no air came through the regulator.

Zane took a step back, jaw clenched. “You think I’m that unhinged? That I’d risk your life just to shut you up?”

“I don’t know what to think,” she said, her voice still shaky. “But if this was just negligence, that’s bad enough.”

“You’ve got some nerve,” he muttered. “I saved your life.”

She looked at him, soaking wet and fuming, and didn’t say thank you.

Because something about the whole experience still didn’t feel like an accident.

Zane packed up in silence, expression tight.