“Well, let’s go find him then. Matt, where’s your pole?”
“I dropped it to pull your dead ass out of the water.”
Harley shook his head in disapproval. “That was dumb.”
“Let’s go, Cole.”
Matt pulled at Harley’s shoulder. “Seriously, dude, you’ve got enough water in your lungs for one day. We’ll go find him. I think your pole is wedged on a rock.”
Matt looked at Cole, who hesitated for a second.
“So you want to go get the fish that nearly killed Harley?”
Matt nodded back at Harley. “If we don’t, he will. Plus,” he said with some reluctance, “it’s a grouper.”
Cole pulled on his fins and mask and hopped over the side. Once both of them were back in the water, Harley leaned over, draping his arms over the side and still looking to be on the verge of exhaustion.
“Don’t lose him.”
“Shut
