by L. B. Carter
“It’s an odd kinda town. A big family, I guess.” Reed looked around at the crowd. “Blood doesn’t have to mean family. Anyone can be family. Anyone you protect no matter the consequences.” He almost sounded like he was talking to himself.
Since Rena felt that way about the people in her life, none of whom were her blood, she could only agree. Wait. Did that mean that Nor was family because he’d saved her from a cold swim?
“And when you fail in protecting them, it’s like losing family.”
Of course, Nor had almost caused her swim.
Reed was clearly lost in his head, too. His mouth had turned way down at the corners. He heaved an anguished sigh before she could think of how to comfort him about whomever he had lost, then he turned to smile at her, shaking the melancholy off. “I’m thinking I need another beer.” She nodded and he moved away into the flickering shadows.
Family. Hers was new and small. Just Grandpa. Kayna, Liam, Stew, and Tilly, if Rena went by Reed’s standards. Was Nor a part of her family? Did she want him to be? Kayna had said he was trying to fit in. Reed didn’t seem to mind talking to her.
Thinking of Tilly, Rena spun in a circle, squinting at the mass of bodies wriggling around the fire. There. Off to one side she saw the red mane. She slipped between people heading toward the bright color. Being so intent on her goal, Rena didn’t notice the hand that shot out until it had already buried itself in her hair.
With a tug that seemed to pull her stomach into her throat, she stumbled backwards. Her hands flew up trying to alleviate the sharp pricks of pain on her scalp. Tears immediately blurred her eyes in response. Her attacker pulled further, and the pair vanished from the firelight into the dark.
That didn’t matter when a piece of cloth slipped over her eyes. Rena was turned roughly by the shoulders, feeling hot breath on her mouth. A large hand quickly encircled her fragile wrists, keeping her from ripping off the blindfold. He (she deduced, based on the hand size) continued walking backwards, using her arms like a leash, letting her trip after him. The chitter chatter of drunk partiers and the crackle and pop of the fire faded. The gentle hush of waves grew louder.
No.
As soon as he paused and Rena bumped into a chest, she brought her knee up hard, then roundhouse kicked his ribs. There was an oomph and she was free.
Rena turned to run but her hair was still snagged. She was wrenched back against his chest, another arm encircling her waist like a restraint. He was breathing hard in her ear. She panted in fear, feeling helpless with her arms trapped by her sides and her vision cut off.
Her anxiety flipped her from fight into flight mode. She relaxed, letting him take her entire weight.
“Shit,” a voice muttered as they both face-planted, knocking the wind from her.
Cold, salty water lapped at Rena’s face, the grit of the icy, damp sand scratched her cheek, as his fist, still clenched in her hair, pressed down. His whole body was heavily mashed against her back, and her hip bone ground painfully on a stray shell or pebble. Rena’s fingers dug into the wet coarse pebbles, as she pushed up, biceps straining in an attempt to toss him off her. His weight counter-acted the move and he grasped her arms and yanked them behind her as if Rena were a criminal, as if she were in the wrong here. The wrench in her shoulders forced her face back down. She coughed and spluttered the salty water.
Instead of trying up again, Rena rolled quickly to the side, his poor balance toppling him into the water with a splash. She struggled to free herself from the tangle of legs he’d locked around her. He clamped down, and she was pulled backward on top of his chest. He continued their trajectory, rotating again to pin her under him, then lifting himself just enough to flip her over to face him, straddling her hips.
Oh, God, no.
The roll had moved them deeper into the water, and with the whoosh of a wave, suddenly Rena was submerged, the filter of her nightmares overlaying her blackened vision. Some water snuck in before she had a chance to seal her lips and the salty taste froze her limbs. The attacker’s knee bones pinned her forearms painfully to the rocky floor. A hand gripped at her jaw and held her under.
This wasn’t about rape; he was trying to kill her.
Rena tried to jerk, finding no leverage to move. The ocean would get her this time, thanks to an anonymous assistant.
Rena thrashed and struggled, bubbles rapidly escaping her mouth. Too late, she realized, she’d used up her air. Sudden panic sent a surge of strength through her body, reanimating her arms so she could rip them free. Rena needed air.
Forgoing fruitlessly trying again to pry the persistent hands holding her under, instinctively her hands grabbed blindly above, feeling around until his cheeks were smashed between her palms. Without thought, her limbs lowered his face down, his surprise likely allowing her the upper hand for a moment, under the surface, until hers latched to his. Gratefully hollow lungs pulled in, snatching his oxygen with greed.
Yes.
Almost like with the pills They’d given her in the hospital for her panic attack, Rena’s body became catatonic, a euphoric and calm haze settling around her. The water buoyed her, embracing and supporting her comfortably. Her arms went limp and a smile tugged her lips as her fingers loosened their hold on her…
victim.
The word slithered through her blissful cloud just as her attacker wrenched away. Her body seized up again, like the water had dropped a few more degrees and frozen her where she lay.
It was her nightmare. It was real.
The disgust and abject horror flooded Rena’s body, releasing it from whatever dark instinct had taken control, and she surged upright, breaching the water with a cry, a half-sob, half-wail of self-loathing and complete desolation, released from her throat with stolen air.
“Shit,” the voice repeated in a croak, awed, followed by the sound of coughing that made Rena wince in guilt, as she leaned back below him on her elbows.
How? Why? What had happened?
A moment later she heard, “Shit,” a third time, then the weight lifted off her.
Rena pushed herself into a seat, finally removing the obstruction over her eyes. It was dark; the bonfire was far away, a spec of light in the distance. The flash of the lighthouse down the coast swung through the sky. The sound of vomiting nearby told Rena that her attacker—attackee?—hadn’t made it far away before what she’d done to him dropped him to his knees. The disgusting noise abated somewhere distant in her hearing.
His large form loomed again over her in the moonlight. Rena tried to scurry backwards, away from him. Her splashes were loud. She was heading deeper into the surf.
“Silent Sirena.”
JT.
Rena froze, incredulous, bumped unfeelingly by a wave. JT was the one who’d tried to kill her? He hated her, that was obvious. Enough to attempt murder? He moved to stand over her, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand.
Well, it backfired. She’d almost killed him.
“Not so silent, eh? Afraid of the dark?” Inching closer, he dropped to a squat over her legs, face to face.
Her body wouldn’t respond, wouldn’t let her back away or fight, exhausted and frozen in a tumultuous whirlpool of emotions sucking her down. Or perhaps her sight was darkening on the edges from lack of oxygen again—she hadn’t permitted herself another breath, afraid of what her lips might do if she opened them again. Rena was stuck, staring at his mouth in renewed devastation. She couldn’t tell in the lighting. Were his lips the pale pink of her vision? Of death?
His hands reached out to her shoulders and she panicked. Her fist shot out, aiming for a nose much more bulbous than Nor’s. The punch went awry, glancing off his cheek. She hadn’t anticipated a wave surging into her side, jostling her.
He shook it off. “Bitch.” A quick slap set the side of her face on fire and drowned out all sound for a moment. She blinked back tears.
Then JT was gone.
Rena reached up, thinking the blindfold had been reapplie
d. It was still in her hand; her pale legs gleamed beneath a few inches of water. Relief flashed through her like a wave of steam, followed immediately by a thick heaviness that ebbed back in, flooding her like the seawater rushing around her body: It was all true.
Rena was a murderer. She hadn’t needed saving—JT had.
And Rena? She needed saving from herself.
Chapter Six
Nor was distracted from the conversation he was supposed to be having when he noticed Kayna and Liam wandering in and out of people around the fire, searching for something, someone. Where was Sirena?
Nor ditched Frank, one of the other senior sailors, in mid-sentence about some swanky summer camp he’d just returned from, to stride over to Kayna.
She saw him coming, looked frantically around him then shifted back to his face, her brows furrowing in question. Kayna asked, “Sirena’s not with you?” at the same time Nor demanded, “Where’s Sirena?”
“Shit.” Nor’s worry flared in an instant, sharpening his senses as he turned his head every which way looking for the long mint hair or pale face in the flickering light.
Liam came up behind his girlfriend, who turned to him eagerly. “No one on the team has seen her.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder.
Kayna looked around wildly. “Maybe she went back to the car?” she suggested, sounding unconvinced herself.
“But you told her—”
Nor didn’t listen to the rest of Liam’s response because a shrill cry flung faintly out of the darkness. Nor was sprinting toward it before the sound even died.
He cursed as the sand shifted unhelpfully below his sneakers, slowing his sprint. His breath came harsh in his ears. If there was another cry, he couldn’t hear it. Not good. He was used to exertion; it was fear that seized his lungs, stark terror that he was too late. Nor tried to regulate his breaths so he could push his legs harder, dropping his chin.
“Bitch,” a deep voice hissed ahead of him, a moment before a fleshy slap echoed across the shoreline.
Nor could finally make out the figures struggling in the wash zone. Back-lit by the moon, a wide-set silhouette towered over a prone one.
Feet pounding on more stable water-saturated sand, Nor knew they’d hear him. Stealth wasn’t an option, nor did he care to use it. His heart was still in his throat. Speed was the only skill he’d be using at the moment. Was this how Reed had felt? This time, Nor would make it.
As Nor got close, he saw a pair of pale, sandled legs protruding from under an ass and plaid button up that he recognized as a bent-over JT. He should’ve killed JT earlier.
Nor changed directions to come from behind. His shoes slapped wetly in the shallows right before he dove, shoving JT off Sirena with his momentum. A quick pinch on the pressure point where JT’s shoulder met his neck, and the dick went immediately limp. Nor hoped that was also true in the literal sense.
Nor almost snarled his frustration. Knocking out the enemy had been instinct, but staring down at the douchebag’s blood-slickened face, Nor wanted to fight. He wanted to make the asshole suffer. He wanted JT to feel what it was like to be the victim as Nor straddled him. Turnabout was certainly not fair play, but Nor was confident it would make him feel better, at least let him vent his anger. He allowed himself one kick to the pervert’s ribs. It wasn’t proper fighting etiquette, but it was definitely justified. JT didn’t seem to even remotely consider proper etiquette.
“Nor.” The faint voice behind Nor had him whipping around to Sirena, who had risen to a seat, the water sloshing around her hips. One step and he stopped, the impact of what he’d missed in his vengeful rage zapping through him: she’d spoken, she’d said his name.
A wave pushed her, making her sway like a poorly-rooted tree. Nor was beside her in an instant, his hands gently lifting her face up so he could look into her too wide eyes. He used a thumb to wipe the blood dripping from her lip down her chin.
“I’m going to check for other injuries,” he warned her. He’d be a gentleman about running his hands over the body of any girl. He was especially wary given she’d just had a guy manhandle her. Wait— “Sirena, he didn’t actually...” Nor couldn’t finish the thought.
She shook her head, and he gave a small breath of minor relief.
Carefully, yet meticulously patting down her sides and legs, he found no major bleeding or broken bones, though it was hard to tell in the dark and with her clothes wet. She didn’t move, though the water nudged her against him with each sweep over their legs.
“Where are you hurt?” he asked, looking back into her pale face. She just stared at him. He was betting shock would have numbed most of her injuries anyway. Her left cheek was pink – the slap he’d heard.
Nor swallowed another growl, trying not to hurt or scare her further and knelt back to give her space. Saucer-like eyes shifted over his shoulder and her face started to collapse.
Nor shifted slightly to block the view of her attacker. “Hey, it’s okay. He’s out cold. He’s not getting near you.” Her deer-in-the-headlights gaze swung back to him. Her mouth was still gaped slightly, the smear of blood marring her chin. “I’m here,” he reassured.
Even though she stiffened, he could no longer stop himself from pulling her into a gentle hug, careful to move slowly to avoid startling her. Her wet body felt frail in his arms, reminding him of the butterfly collection one of Mother’s colleagues had let him look at one time. Like them, she didn’t move, helpless and freezing. The odor of seaweed was strong as he pressed his nose in her hair, reassuring himself he’d gotten there in time.
Nor registered the heavy breathing and startled female gasp behind him but didn’t let go until a third pair of feet slowed to a stop behind him.
“What the hell?” Reed sounded flabbergasted. “Nor?”
Nor dropped his arms reluctantly. Some relief came when he pulled back and saw she was calmer, her eyes no longer as distant, though her lips were sealed in a firm line once again. He turned to his brother who was gazing down at JT. Kayna had her hands cupped over her mouth, staring aghast at her friend, while Liam looked back and forth between Sirena and JT, almost in disbelief.
“Should o’ let you kill the bastard earlier,” Liam finally mused, wrath overpowering compunction evidenced by the thickened accent.
“She okay?” Reed nodded his head at the soaking girl still slumped in front of Nor.
“Not sure. She’s in shock. There’s blood on her lip, some swelling in her left cheek, and I’m betting her throat is pretty sore from inhaling saltwater.“ He didn’t mention her scream or saying his name. ”She says he didn’t... touch her.” Nor swallowed hard, intentionally staring at JT’s loafer to avoid looking at Sirena, so he wouldn’t get pissed again. “I think I knocked him out before he could do anything.” Thank fuck for that.
“Nerve?” Reed asked tersely, meaning did Nor knock him out with a nerve pinch from behind as opposed to anything incriminating.
“Yes,” Nor mollified, making eye contact with his brother. “No permanent damage... unfortunately. Never saw me.”
Reed nodded seriously, accepting that for the time being to deal with the situation at hand. “So now we just dump this log in the fire pit, right?” The comment was tossed into the gloom to lighten the air in the way Reed did best. He got a snort out of Liam, at least.
The noise seemed to snap Kayna out of her statue-like pose, and she slowly inched forward. Nor backed off, letting Sirena’s friend take over in comforting. Kayna crouched in front of Sirena, her hands lowering to reveal her gaping mouth, before gently reaching out to hover in front of the silent girl. She didn’t touch her, just held her hands out in offered support. That was the correct response to someone who’d just been physically mauled; Nor hadn’t been able to help himself. “Are you okay?” Kayna sounded close to tears. “I’m so sorry. We shouldn’t have left you. I didn’t think.” She hiccupped. “I should’ve. . . I’m so, so, so, so sorry!” she wailed, dropping her head to sob into the water ov
er Sirena’s lap.
Nor moved over to the body to give the girls time to regroup. Liam followed. Reed gave the body a nudge with the toe of his boot. “He’s a real dead-weight. He’ll be hard to get into a fireman’s hold from down there.”
Liam snorted again. “We can drag his arse. Actually, leaving him here to get eaten by the fishes is probably more what he deserves.” Liam’s tone was harsh and when Nor looked Liam wasn’t staring at JT but at the girls behind him, his jaw clenched tight and eyes hard. It was a look probably similar to the one Nor was wearing. The gentle whispers of soothing words was just audible over the hush of the tide and the faint joyous shouts of the partiers oblivious in their booze bubble by the distant bonfire. Next time, Nor wasn’t going to stop himself from killing the guy.
◆◆◆
In the end, they did drag him. JT’s arms were pulled taut, one in Nor’s grip, another in Reed’s. Nor was barely applying any effort and he could tell Reed wasn’t straining; they could’ve picked him up. He thought his brother, like him, was thoroughly enjoying the dull thuds and scrapes of JT impacting rocks and driftwood in their path.
Slowly, the noise at the bonfire died down from the outer circles inward as they made their way to the glow at the center with their cargo. Bodies turned towards them with varying degrees of confusion and surprise clouding their alcohol-loosened expressions. Nor tried not to react when many rapidly sharpening gazes shifted to look behind him, where he knew Kayna was leading a subdued Sirena.
Not that her silence was unusual, but the blood on her lip and mussed, wet clothes would be enough to clue the crowd into a vague understanding of what occurred. Directly through the scrutiny was the only way to access the cars. He hated these vipers looking at her, making her more uncomfortable than she already was. Especially when she couldn’t speak up for herself.
Both boys let go of JT’s arms, dropping him unceremoniously right in front of the fire where Nor secretly hoped he might get burned by stray sparks and embers popping out of the flames. JT’s backup boy shoved his lanky frame through the crowds.
