The Swim Coaches' Forbidden Lessons - Chapter 7: Chapter 7
You are reading The Swim Coaches' Forbidden Lessons, Chapter 7: Chapter 7. Read more chapters of The Swim Coaches' Forbidden Lessons.
Tears burned my cheeks as three pairs of rough hands clawed at me, dragging me deeper into the churning ocean. My chest heaved with ragged sobs, but the saltwater stole my breath before the words could form.
"Stop fighting, Luna." Liam's voice dripped with mock sweetness, his grip tightening on my wrist. "Consider this a private swimming lesson—compliments of me."
I was breaking. Shattering.
No one was coming.
I screamed toward the shore, but the wind swallowed my voice. The beach was empty—just waves and silence.
"Let me go!" I thrashed, seawater burning my throat. "Liam, you bastard—"
"Let you go?" He laughed, low and cruel. "After all the effort I put into playing the perfect gentleman at the aquatic center? Drop the act, sweetheart. You know you want this."
The two coaches snickered, their hands roaming, their laughter scraping against my skin like sandpaper. Humiliation burned hotter than the salt in my wounds.
No.
Not like this.
Not with him.
"I'd rather drown than let you touch me!"
With a snarl, I twisted, driving my knee into Aaron's gut. He howled, his grip slipping. For one desperate second, I was free—but the waves slammed into me, dragging me under. Water flooded my nose, my mouth, my lungs.
Darkness crept in.
Through the blur, I saw Liam's face twist—not with triumph, but panic.
Good.
A weak smile curled my lips as the ocean swallowed me whole.
At least I won.
The sharp sting of antiseptic.
Blinding white light.
Was this death?
Or had Liam dragged me somewhere worse?
My heart jackhammered against my ribs until a nurse appeared, adjusting my IV. "You're awake!"
I blinked, disoriented. "What… happened?"
A fisherman had seen me. Called the cops. My best friend had panicked when I didn't text back. My parents—God, my parents—had rushed here thinking they'd lost me forever.
When they saw me, their faces crumpled. "Baby," Mom choked out, clutching my hand like I might vanish. "You scared us half to death."
The memories crashed over me. The hands. The water. The laughter.
A sob ripped from my throat.
I'd almost died.
But I'd rather have died than let them win.
And from that day on?
I stopped trusting pretty smiles.
"Stop fighting, Luna." Liam's voice dripped with mock sweetness, his grip tightening on my wrist. "Consider this a private swimming lesson—compliments of me."
I was breaking. Shattering.
No one was coming.
I screamed toward the shore, but the wind swallowed my voice. The beach was empty—just waves and silence.
"Let me go!" I thrashed, seawater burning my throat. "Liam, you bastard—"
"Let you go?" He laughed, low and cruel. "After all the effort I put into playing the perfect gentleman at the aquatic center? Drop the act, sweetheart. You know you want this."
The two coaches snickered, their hands roaming, their laughter scraping against my skin like sandpaper. Humiliation burned hotter than the salt in my wounds.
No.
Not like this.
Not with him.
"I'd rather drown than let you touch me!"
With a snarl, I twisted, driving my knee into Aaron's gut. He howled, his grip slipping. For one desperate second, I was free—but the waves slammed into me, dragging me under. Water flooded my nose, my mouth, my lungs.
Darkness crept in.
Through the blur, I saw Liam's face twist—not with triumph, but panic.
Good.
A weak smile curled my lips as the ocean swallowed me whole.
At least I won.
The sharp sting of antiseptic.
Blinding white light.
Was this death?
Or had Liam dragged me somewhere worse?
My heart jackhammered against my ribs until a nurse appeared, adjusting my IV. "You're awake!"
I blinked, disoriented. "What… happened?"
A fisherman had seen me. Called the cops. My best friend had panicked when I didn't text back. My parents—God, my parents—had rushed here thinking they'd lost me forever.
When they saw me, their faces crumpled. "Baby," Mom choked out, clutching my hand like I might vanish. "You scared us half to death."
The memories crashed over me. The hands. The water. The laughter.
A sob ripped from my throat.
I'd almost died.
But I'd rather have died than let them win.
And from that day on?
I stopped trusting pretty smiles.
End of The Swim Coaches' Forbidden Lessons Chapter 7. View all chapters or return to The Swim Coaches' Forbidden Lessons book page.