The Reef

heard you.” A dozen separate wars waged inside him. He wanted her, and knew by the way her mouth had fit on his that he could have her. He needed her, and read the mirror of that in her dazed eyes. If want and need had been all, the war would have been over quickly.
    But he loved her. And that left him a victim bleeding on his own battlefield.
    “I didn’t do that alone, Tate. But you can pretend I did if it makes you feel better.”
    “I don’t have to pretend anything. Let go of me.”
    He already had. And that helped curve his lips into something close to a smile. “You’re holding me, sweetheart.” He brought his hands out of the water, palms facing her.
    On an oath, she released the grip her arms had somehow taken around him. “I know the cliché, Lassiter, but this time history isn’t going to repeat itself. We work together, we dive together. That’s all we do together.”
    “It’s your choice, Red. It always was.”
    “Then there shouldn’t be a problem.”
    “No problem.” He struck out in a lazy backstroke. “Unless you’re worried you won’t be able to resist me.”
    “I can manage,” she called after him.
    He’d have been pleased to see the line was between her brows again. Muttering to herself, Tate went under to cool her head, then swam in the opposite direction.
     
    “You’re not going down again until you pass the written test.” Matthew shoved papers under LaRue’s nose. “That’s the way it is.”
    “I’m not a schoolboy.”
    “You’re a trainee. I’m your instructor, and you’re going to take the written test. Pass it, you dive. Fail it, you’regrounded. The first part’s equipment identification.” Matthew leaned forward. “You remember what a regulator is, don’t you, LaRue?”
    “It gives the air from the tank to the diver.” LaRue pushed the papers aside. “So?”
    Matthew pushed them back. “And consists of?”
    “Consists of, consists of.” Scowling, LaRue snatched his tobacco pouch. “The, ah, mouthpiece, the hose, the what is it, stages?”
    “What’s a stage?”
    “This is pressure-reducing unit. Why do you worry me with this?”
    “You don’t dive until you know the equipment inside-out, until I’m sure you understand the physics and physiology.” He offered LaRue a sharpened pencil. “Take all the time you need, but remember, you don’t dive until you’re done. Buck, give me a hand on deck.”
    “Sure, be right there.”
    LaRue glanced over his test sheets, glanced at Matthew’s retreating back. “What is Boyle’s Law?” he whispered to Buck.
    “When the pressure—”
    “No cheating,” Matthew called back. “Jesus, Buck.”
    “Sorry, LaRue, you’re on your own.” Shamefaced, Buck followed Matthew out on deck. “I was just giving him a little hint.”
    “Who’s going to give him a little hint if he forgets the basics when he’s forty feet under?”
    “You’re right—but he’s doing good, isn’t he? You said he had a knack for diving.”
    “He’s a fucking fish down there,” Matthew said with a grin. “But he’s not skipping the details.”
    He was already wearing his wet suit and now zipped it. He gave his tanks and gauges a last check, then let Buck help him strap them on.
    “We’re just going down for a little recognizance,” Matthew commented as he adjusted his weight belt.
    “Yeah.”
    Buck knew they were over the site of the Marguerite. Both he and Matthew avoided discussing the wreck, orwhat had happened. Buck avoided Matthew’s eyes as his nephew sat to put on his flippers.
    “Tate wants some pictures,” Matthew said, for lack of anything better. Everyone knew they wanted a firsthand look at what VanDyke had left behind.
    “Sure. She was always big on getting pictures. Kid grew up nice, didn’t she?”
    “Nice enough. Don’t give LaRue any more hints.”
    “Not even if he begs.” Buck’s smile faded when Matthew slipped on his mask. Panic reared up and grabbed him by the throat. “Matthew . . .”
    Matthew paused, one hand on his mask as he prepared to roll into the water. “What?” He saw the anxiety, struggled to overlook it.
    “Nothing.” Buck wiped a hand over his mouth, swallowed hard while nightmare visions of sharks and blood swam in his head. “Good diving.”
    With a brief nod, Matthew slipped into the water. He ignored the impulse to dive deep, lose himself in the silence and solitude. He crossed the distance to the New Adventure in an easy crawl, gave up a hailing