Caught by the Tide Ch. 01

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And I told you we were sorry. It wasn't as though it was deliberate. ' 'No, not the first time,' I retorted. 'But the second time was, wasn't it?' 'What?' He looked pained.

'Oh, this is just great. I come back to make sure you're all right and this is the thanks--' 'Oh don't give me that!' I couldn't believe what I was hearing. He'd really come back to make sure I was okay? 'Of course it was deliberate. You couldn't wait to do it again.

You couldn't help yourselves--oh my God!' I yelped, finally glimpsing what awaited us on the other side of the ledge. 'Just great,' he repeated as though he hadn't heard. 'I rescue you, and this is what I get. ' 'Rescue me?' I gave a snort of derision.

'You call this rescuing? Okay, tell me this. How the fuck do we get down?' Because although the climb down the rocks to the other cove definitely appeared less challenging than the climb I'd just made, the tide was rolling in apace, the surf rolling up the beach, the place where I'd laid my towel--where the guys had played football--already under water.

And despite myself, I couldn't help but notice his eyes were exactly the same shade as the sea, a stark contrast to his curly dark hair. 'We wait? But haven't you got a mobile phone?' For the first time he grinned. 'You want to call the coastguard?' 'Yes!' Was this man incredibly stupid? 'I think it might be a good idea.

' 'Really?' He looked amused. 'So you'd like them to scramble a helicopter, get four men to risk their lives while they winch you up into the air--high, high into the air--' Shit, he'd guessed I was scared of heights. . .

'--and then drop you back down on to the beach, with the world and his wife watching their every move--your every move? 'Cos that kind of thing tends to draw quite a crowd. ' I gazed at him speechlessly. 'Or, we can wait a couple of hours--wait for the tide to go back out again--then get you down and get you to hospital.

' 'Hospital?' I gave a choke of puzzled laughter. 'But I don't need to go to hospital. ' 'Oh, I think you do. ' 'What?' It was only when I glanced down at myself that I saw what he was staring at.

'Fuck!' I'd never seen anything like it in real life, only on television and in films. The whole of my right forearm was scarlet and dripping--literally dripping--with blood. . .

'No. . . ' I breathed, only realising how much it hurt as I looked at it.

'Oh no. . . '

. . .


Categories: Teen