"I told you to watch her, not to let her fly into the damn ocean!"
Farah's lips parted, her entire body kept trembling. Her eyes, still wide with shock, looked past him, unfocused. She was too stunned to speak, too terrified to respond. She looked like she hadn't fully registered what had just happened.
Junho shoved her off. "Ugh, pathetic," he hissed.
He ran a hand through his soaked hair, pacing for a second, calculating in his brain. He couldn't let this go public. Couldn't let anyone piece together what really happened. There had to be a way out.
Then it hit him.
The security footage.
The yacht had high tech security. Multiple cameras. Footage of everything, including Jean chasing Farah, including Logan shouting and jumping. And him blackmailing them.
If that footage gets out, I'm done.
Junho's eyes narrowed as he looked toward the upper deck. The captain's control room.
Without a word, he turned and bolted through the slippery surface of the yacht, heading straight for the security room.
He couldn't trust anyone, not even Farah. If he wanted to erase the evidence, he had to do it himself.
He was going to save himself, no matter who else had to drown.
__________________________________
The moment Logan hit the water, a shock ran through his body. The ocean was colder than he expected, and before he could take a proper breath, the waves pushed him under.
It was dark. He opened his eyes, but everything was blurry. He couldn't tell which way was up. Salt burned his throat and eyes. He kicked hard, trying to swim to the surface, but the current pulled at him from all directions.
His chest tightened. He needed air, but the water was too strong. He couldn't rise. Every time he tried to push upward, another wave crashed above, forcing him back down.
He was running out of time.
Where is she? Where's Jean?
The panic started to build in his chest. He couldn't see her, couldn't hear anything except the rush of water around him. He kicked again, harder, fighting against the current with everything he had.
Then, just as his lungs were about to give out, he spotted something, a hint of red floating not too far away.
Jean.
Without thinking, he forced himself toward it.
Logan swam toward the red blur with everything he had left. His muscles burned, and his lungs screamed, but he didn't stop. As he got closer, the shape became clearer… it was her. Jean's body floated just below the surface, her arm limp, hair fanned out in the water like ink.
He reached out and grabbed her wrist, pulling her close. She wasn't moving.
No.
No, no, no.
With one arm wrapped tightly around her, he kicked upwards, pushing against the pull of the ocean. It felt like dragging dead weight, but he didn't care. He wouldn't let her go.
Breaking through the surface, Logan gasped for air, choking on rain and seawater. The storm raged around them, but he kept her above water, shaking her lightly.
"Jean! Hey… Jean! Wake up, dammit!"
She didn't respond.
He looked toward the yacht, now a blur through the sheets of rain. It felt impossibly far.
But he wasn't giving up.
With Jean held tightly in one arm, Logan began to swim back, teeth gritted against the cold and fear clawing at his heart.
The storm showed no mercy. The waves tossed them like rag dolls, and Logan could feel his strength fading fast.
His limbs were heavy, and Jean's unconscious weight in his arms only dragged him deeper into exhaustion. The yacht was now just a blurry speck behind a curtain of rain and foam.
He clung to her tighter. "Come on, Jean... stay with me." His voice cracked, barely louder than a whisper.
Water splashed over his head again, and for a moment he sank… panic bubbling in his chest. This is it, he thought bitterly. I couldn't save her... and now we'll both die.
He looked at her face through the rain… peaceful and pale. And for a moment, guilt gnawed through him sharper than the cold. Why didn't I help her sooner? Why did I wait until it was too late?
His vision blurred, whether from the saltwater or his own emotions, he couldn't tell.
Then, something bobbed into view.
A bright orange shape, rocking violently with the waves.
A survival raft.
His heart jolted.
"Sweet Jesus," he breathed. Relief flooded his chest, almost making him choke. We're not done yet.
He summoned every last ounce of strength, kicking toward it through the crushing tide. "Hold on, Jean," he muttered. "I've got you. I've got you."
The raft dipped and swayed wildly, its bright color a beacon in the madness. Logan swam harder, teeth gritted, every muscle screaming in protest.
The cold gnawed at his bones, but he refused to let go of Jean. Not now. Not ever.
When he finally reached the edge of the raft, he clung to it with one arm, gasping for air. The storm roared around him like a beast, but he forced himself to stay focused. Jean's head rested limply against his shoulder, water dripping from her hair.
He tried lifting her up, but the raft was slick and kept slipping from his grip. "Come on," he growled, repositioning her. His arms were burning, lungs on fire.
A wave slammed against them, nearly pulling him back under. He gasped, then coughed, spitting out seawater. "No, no, no… Jean, stay with me!"
He angled himself better this time, using all his weight to push from underneath while gripping the edge. With a final grunt, he hoisted her over the side. Her body flopped into the raft with a soft thud.
Logan grabbed the rope handles and pulled himself in after her, collapsing beside her trembling form. His chest heaved, eyes burning from the salt.
Rain pelted them. Thunder cracked over their heads.
But they were alive.
He leaned over her, brushing her soaked hair away from her face. "Come on, Jean. Open your eyes." His voice cracked. "Please."
The storm had yet to ease, but for now, they were out of the water… adrift, but safe from drowning.
He didn't know what came next.
But he knew one thing.
He wasn't losing her. Not like this.
Logan's hands trembled as he rubbed her palms furiously, his breath coming out in ragged gasps. "Come on, Jean," he murmured, voice hoarse. He moved to her feet, massaging them, trying to get any kind of reaction… anything at all.
But she remained still.
Her skin was pale. Her lips had lost their color.
"No. No! Damn it, don't do this to me." Panic surged through him like a tidal wave. He didn't hesitate anymore.
He moved to her side, locked his hands over her chest, and started compressions. "One, two, three…" he counted aloud, his voice shaking. The raft rocked beneath them, but he didn't stop. Sweat and rain mixed on his face. "Four, five, six…"
He leaned down, pinched her nose, and gave her mouth-to-mouth. Once. Twice.
Nothing.
He went back to compressions, more forceful now. "Jean, breathe. Please." He was shouting over the wind. "I didn't go through all this just to lose you now!"
He gave her air again, pressing his lips to hers as gently as he could, then pulled back, watching. Waiting.
Still nothing.
Her fragile figure lay lifeless.
His heart felt like it would shatter. "Jean, please wake up," his voice cracked, "please don't leave me alone."