After what feels like forever, the boat finally slows to a crawl. I had opted to feel the wind lashing at my face instead of staying in the closed-in area where he drives.
Right behind me is an open area where several oxygen tanks and scuba gear line the walls, along with a couple of benches to sit on while getting dressed.
“Nervous?” he asks, stepping down onto the deck.
“We’re in the middle of a big bowl of monster soup. I’m pretty sure I should’ve brought diapers.” I’m not even embarrassed by that. Enzo claims he gave me the best fuck of my life—and he’s not wrong—but I’d wager that I did the same for him. So, who cares if I need a diaper when I am to be facing a massive beast soon?
He may be incredible in bed, but I guarantee these monsters are far scarier than the one between his legs.
He shakes his head and stalks toward the side where there’s a massive anchor. He begins to lower it while I turn to stare out at the horizon. It’s so easy to feel like you’re alone out here. Yet, I’m surrounded by life. So much life.
Enzo was right—being in the middle of the ocean absolutely does make you feel tiny. It stretches as far as my eyes can see no matter which direction I turn, and I don’t even want to see what’s below the surface.
When I manage to drag my eyes away from the glittering water, I find Enzo prowling toward me, and my body tightens with anticipation. For a brief second, my heart suspends in my chest, convinced he’s about to throw me overboard, but instead, he grabs a gray bucket by my feet.
He's so intense, he would have a slug stiffening when he comes near.
I’m confused about what he’s doing until he opens the container. My cheeks blow wide, vomit rising up my throat. The bucket is full of… guts. Bloody chunks of entrails.
Lifting the bucket, he proceeds to dump it in the ocean, the crimson immediately clouding the water.
“How… how long does it take them to get here?”
He shrugs. “Shouldn’t be too long. Sharks have an incredible sense of smell.”
Rubbing my lips together, I nod my head, feeling all sorts of out of place.
The cage is suspended on a crane on the back of the boat, but he doesn’t lower it yet. I’m sure he’s going to walk me through how to get in the scuba gear and the oxygen tank first.
“Are you going to swim with them outside of the cage?” I ask.
“No. I only swim with them when they’re in my research center—and I don’t do it just for fun. You should never touch wildlife in the ocean.”
I’m definitely okay with never touching them, as long as they don’t touch me, either.
“They won’t, like, eat the boat, right?”
“Why eat the boat when they can eat you instead?”
My eyes round, and I stare at him, waiting for him to smile. He doesn’t—of course, he doesn't—but there is mirth swirling in his eyes.
“You’re joking,” I state.
“I’ve already said they don’t like the taste of us,” he reminds me.
“Sure, they’ll take a little nibble, say blech, and swim away. Meanwhile, they have my leg caught in their teeth, and I’ll live the rest of my life as a half-cyborg.”
He shrugs. “There are worse things in life than being a half-cyborg,” he says, grabbing another bucket and dumping it in the ocean.
He would know, he practically is one.
“If it’s not so bad, get in the cage and stick your toes out. Let me know how dandy it is when it’s bashing you on either side of the cage while it slowly tears your leg off.”
He grunts. “It wouldn’t be slow. Your leg would be gone before you could blink. They have incredibly powerful bites.”
So maybe he knows what he’s talking about, but I can’t get that image out of my head anyway.
“Maybe I shouldn’t go. I wouldn’t want to lose my favorite toe.”
His brow furrows. “Do I even want to know?”
I point to my pinkie toe. “It’s cute. Sharks like cute things. They eat seals. Seals are cute.”
He looks to where I’m pointing, then shakes his head at me. “I don’t think they care much about how it looks. More like how it tastes.”
“I’m talking myself out of this,” I declare, anxiety starting to make me feel a little nauseous.
“So, stop doing it.”
I purse my lips. “Yeah, you’re right. I’m going to do this. For sure.”
I’m lying again, and we both know it.