Into the Blue

by Robin Huber

  She nods over tears that she blinks back. “Okay, good.”

  Adam wraps his hand around hers and the tears she’s holding back leak onto her cheeks. I turn my head to give them privacy, but I hear the strain in Adam’s voice when he says, “Mia, you know I don’t want to leave you, but I have to. Just for a little while.”

  “I know. They need you... Makayla needs you.”

  “Makayla doesn’t need me, she has Kellan. He won’t let anything happen to her. But Callie and Derek need me. I promised to keep them safe until this is all over. But when it’s over, I will come back. That’s a promise I’m making to you.”

  “Then I promise to wait for you.” She whispers something in his ear that I can’t hear, but it makes him smile, which makes me smile.

  “Bye, Mia.”

  “Bye, Adam.”

  We board the plane, and after squeezing my eyes shut through takeoff, I snuggle up against Kellan for the long flight to JFK.

  * * *

  “Wake up, Kayla.” Kellan strokes the back of my hand and pulls me out of a deep sleep.

  “Are we almost there?” I ask groggily.

  “We are there. We just landed.”

  “What?” I lift my head and peek out of the window, and see that we’re on the ground. “I slept through the landing?”

  “You’ve been sleeping like a rock for hours. Are you feeling okay?”

  I shrug. “I feel fine.”

  We haven’t even made it to my apartment yet and Mia has already texted me on my new phone six times, a sure sign that even without seeing her every day, things will stay the same between us. Half of the texts have been about Adam and the other half have been about how much she misses me...and the island.

  When the cab pulls up in front of my apartment and Kellan and I get out, I’m grateful for my new sweater, because it’s even cooler here than it was in San Francisco, a stark contrast to the thick island air I’d grown accustomed to. I shade my eyes from the afternoon sun and peer up at my weathered brick building, eyeing the bay window that’s in my living room three floors up.

  Kellan grabs his duffle bag and we step under the covered awning, climbing the steps to the revolving door, which is manned by Mr. Anthony Angelo—my favorite doorman in the whole world. Every year on my birthday, he gives me a box of chocolates.

  “Makayla, my angel, where have ya been? I haven’t seen you in months.”

  I hug his wrinkled neck and lie. “I was on the most amazing vacation. But I’m back now.”

  “Thank goodness for that. These old coots don’t even bother to say hello to me,” he says quietly, pointing his thumb at two women who are leaving the building.

  I laugh. They must be at least ten years younger than he is. “I’ve missed you, Tony.”

  “And who is this strapping young fella?” he asks, turning to Kellan.

  “Kellan James,” he answers, extending his hand.

  “Kellan. What kind of name is Kellan? Is that Irish or somethin’?”

  I forgot how forward people can be in the city.

  “I’m...not sure,” he says, and my heart squeezes a little.

  He really doesn’t know.

  “Tony, Kellan is my fiancé,” I say, taking his hand.

  “Fiancé? Well, why didn’t ya say so?” he says cheerfully, grasping Kellan’s shoulder. “Anyone who is good enough for Makayla is good enough for me.”

  “Thanks, Tony.” I wink at him and push through the revolving door to my building, which is unchanged from when I was here last. The black-and-white parquet floors, the wrought iron staircase that encircles the lobby, the ornate gold-plated elevator doors that date back to the twenties. I hit the call button and Kellan gives me a mischievous look.

  “What?”

  “I just can’t wait to see where you live.”

  I crease my eyebrows and look down. “I haven’t lived here in a while.” It certainly doesn’t feel like home anymore.

  “What’s wrong?” he asks.

  “Nothing. It’s just, being back here at my apartment... This is my old life, Kellan. It’s not who I am anymore. The island changed me. You changed me. And I’m not sure how I feel about revisiting my past.”

  He puts his hand on my face and looks into my eyes. “Your past is part of you, Makayla. And I want all of you.”

  The elevator doors ping open and I walk inside, my mood lightened by his honest words. “Just so you know, it’s probably filthy—I’ve been away so long. And we’ll need to get groceries.”

  “We’ll order in. Stop worrying.”

  The elevator doors open to the third floor and I lead him down the hallway to my apartment. “This is me.” I pull out the keys that Callie and Derek had made after getting my locks changed and, one by one, I unlock all three deadbolts they had installed. I turn the doorknob and push the door open.

  I haven’t missed my apartment until right now and I’m suddenly excited to share it with Kellan. I walk in, expecting to see dust bunnies rolling across the hardwood floor, but to my surprise, they’re gleaming. So is the glass that tops my coffee table. And the rug beneath it appears freshly vacuumed. I walk into the kitchen and run my fingers over the shiny countertop and notice that the sink, which I’m certain had dishes in it when I left, is empty and sparkling. I walk to my bedroom and find my bed made and my pillows fluffed. It smells like fresh clean linens.

  “Callie must have hired someone to come clean.”

  Kellan leans against my bedroom doorframe and crosses his arms over his chest, giving me the same mischievous smile he had downstairs.

  “You knew what she was up to the whole time, didn’t you?” I say, pointing my finger at him.

  “Yes. And she also had the kitchen stocked with food.”

  I dart past him and head back into the kitchen. I pull the refrigerator door open and smile when I see that it’s filled. I pull out my favorite bottle of Pinot Grigio and whisper, “I’ve missed you.” Kellan laughs at me, but I ignore him and put the bottle back in the fridge. I open the cabinet and find a brand new jar of Nutella, another one of my staples. I grab it and unscrew the lid, removing the paper seal with my teeth, while simultaneously grabbing a spoon from the drawer. I dip it into the creamy, nutty, chocolaty deliciousness and shove it into my mouth. I close my eyes and moan softly as I drag it between my lips. When I open my eyes I see Kellan watching me with an amused look on his face.

  “Sorry. Do you want some?”

  “What is it?”

  I give him a disbelieving look. “You’ve never had Nutella?”

  He raises his eyebrows and shakes his head.

  I dip the spoon into the jar immediately and raise it to his lips. “Open your mouth.” I put it on his tongue and he closes his mouth around it as I drag it between his lips.

  “Mmm...”

  I smile. “Want some more?”

  He nods, so I scoop another small spoonful out of the jar and put it in his mouth. He groans quietly as I drag the spoon between his lips and I’m suddenly very turned on. I think he is too, but just for good measure, I pull one more spoonful between my lips, which are promptly greeted by his. The next thing I know, Kellan is dropping me onto my bed and yanking my jeans down my legs.

  “I’m supposed to call Callie.”

  “Callie can wait,” he growls against my stomach.

  Callie doesn’t like to wait.

  “Hey,” I say breathlessly into the phone, after scrambling down out of my bed to find it buzzing away in my bag.

  “So?” Callie’s vibrating with excitement through the phone.

  “Oh, Callie, it was the best surprise! Thank you so much.”

  “You’re welcome,” she says, pleased with herself. “Oh, and Derek wants me to remind you that we have to be at the DA’s office tomorrow at eight. We’ll send a car for you and Kellan.”

  I swallow down the angst those two little letters bring me, ignoring them altogether when I look up and see Kellan lying in my bed, half naked.
>
  “That’s really not necessary. We can get an Uber.”

  “You’re not going to win, Kay. The car is picking you guys up at seven-thirty. Now go enjoy your clean apartment with your fiancé and call me later. Love you,” she sings, and hangs up, before I protest further.

  * * *

  I untangle myself from Kellan and get up, trying not to wake him. We have to meet with the prosecution team in a couple of hours and I’m too nervous to sleep any longer. I go to my bathroom, closing the door behind me, and turn the shower on. I hold my hand under the cool water, waiting for it to warm up, and when it does, I step in. I close my eyes and let my head fall back under the hot water, but it doesn’t feel good.

  “Uhhh,” I groan, feeling suddenly nauseous as a wave of heat flashes across my wet skin. I place my hands against the shower wall to steady myself, but my head is spinning.

  I’m going to be sick.

  I push the shower door open, slipping as I hurry to the toilet, but I make it just in time.

  Kellan opens the bathroom door and sees me heaving over the toilet, naked and wet. He holds my wet hair back and grabs a towel off the counter to drape over me. “Are you okay?”

  I prop my elbows on the toilet seat and rest my head in my hands. “Yeah,” I pant, “I’m okay.”

  “If you’re sick, you might need to see a doctor,” he says, placing his palm against my forehead.

  “It’s just nerves...about today.”

  “You don’t have to worry. I’ll be with you the whole time.”

  I wrap the towel around me and stand up. “I need to finish my shower.”

  “You’re sure you’re okay?”

  “Yeah. I feel better now.”

  “Should I make breakfast? Maybe it would help to eat.”

  “Yeah. Maybe some eggs and toast. And coffee.”

  “Okay.” He leaves the bathroom and closes the door behind him.

  I finish my shower and get dressed, and find Kellan sitting on a stool at the breakfast bar, sipping a cup of coffee. He’s shirtless, wearing his cotton pajama pants, his chin is covered with stubble, and his dark hair is tousled from sleep.

  “Hungry?”

  “Yes, but not for breakfast,” I say wickedly.

  “You shouldn’t say things like that when you’re dressed the way you are.” He eyes my fitted black pantsuit. I’ve paired it with a white button down and black pumps, and my hair is pulled back into a loose knot that required way too many bobby pins.

  “Why not?” I ask, raising an eyebrow at him.

  He exhales a deep breath. “Because I’d like nothing more than to peel you out of that suit and our meeting is in less than an hour. I’d hate for us to miss it.”

  “I really wouldn’t mind.”

  He shakes his head. “You’re not getting out of it, so stop giving me those take me eyes and come eat.”

  I stick my bottom lip out, but do as I’m told.

  I scarf my breakfast and, after Kellan’s showered and dressed, we head downstairs to meet the car that Derek sent. I slide across the backseat, settle against the window, and stare out at the busy street.

  Kellan sits beside me and takes my hand when he sees me chewing the side of my thumbnail.

  I’m nervous, really nervous. I pray that my breakfast stays down. Just the thought of making accusations against Marc makes me feel nauseous again. He’ll lie. He’ll say that I made it up or that I’m just out for money. What if he makes up lies about me? Accuses me of acting unethical? What if people believe him? What if he makes me out to be some kind of lunatic? I won’t be able to leave my apartment. I start to feel lightheaded. I want to run...run as far away as possible. I want to go back to the island and stay there forever.

  Kellan lowers his head, forcing my eyes to his. “Makayla, you don’t have to be afraid. Everything’s going to be okay. I won’t let anyone hurt you.” His eyes are blue, like the water in the lagoon, and they sweep me back to the island. Everything else fades away...the noisy traffic outside the car window, the hordes of people making their way through the crosswalk in front of us, the glaring light that’s reflecting off the skyscrapers with the rising sun, the annoying pop song that’s playing on the radio. It’s just me and Kellan...and it’s quiet and still.

  I close my eyes and inhale a deep, calming breath, letting my forehead rest against his, and I feel better. I open my eyes and he places a soft kiss on my lips.

  “Your eyes are the same color as the lagoon.”

  He runs his thumb over my cheek. “We’ll find our paradise again. I promise.”

  I smile softly and take his hand, holding it in my lap until we arrive at the DA’s office. I peek up at the huge gray building through the tinted windows. The words District Attorney County of New York are mounted over the revolving glass doors.

  “Are you ready?”

  I nod and silently vow, I can do this, I will do this, because Jessica deserves justice. I deserve it. And Marc deserves to pay for what he did to us. “I’m ready.”

  He takes my hand and, after scanning the busy sidewalk and street in front of the building, pulls me from the car and escorts me through the revolving doors. Callie, Derek, and Adam are waiting for us in the lobby. When we reach them, we’re bombarded by several men in suits, who make their introductions and lead us upstairs. I’m relieved to see Michelle Locklear—a familiar face—waiting for us. She’s the head of the predominantly male team, which makes me like her even more.

  We spend the rest of the day combing through every detail of the events that occurred, from the time Jessica came to my office that fateful day to when we arrived back in the states a few days ago. There are some moments of panic, like when they tell me what to expect over the next few months: Once they bring the charges against Marc, he’ll be arrested, but they expect he’ll make bail, provided the judge offers it. They’ll request a speedy trial, but it likely won’t be offered, as it rarely is for a high profile case like this. It could be months before the court dates are set, and in the meantime, I should expect a media blitz, in which I’ll likely be bombarded by press, once they learn I’m the key witness, and that I should be prepared for the backlash. My character will be questioned and my name will probably be slandered, but it will all be worth it in the end.

  Right.

  There are also some emotional moments, like when I have to talk about Jessica...and when I have to tell them what happened to me. They document every horrible detail, but Kellan holds my hand the whole time and helps me get through it, keeping the inky black at bay each time it starts to creep in.

  And of course, they want to know the details about our relationship, which seems intrusive, at best.

  I’m utterly exhausted as we head toward the elevator and my stomach feels queasy again. They catered lunch, but I was too racked with nerves to eat and now I’m feeling the effects of that choice. The elevator whips us down and the motion makes me dizzy. I have to hold onto the wall for balance.

  “You all right?” Kellan asks quietly.

  I shake my head, keeping my eyes closed as I try to block out the nausea that’s slowly consuming me, but I can’t fight it. When the elevator doors open, I run to the bathroom, ignoring Kellan’s calls for me as I dart away from him across the lobby. I barely have time to get over a toilet before I throw up.

  Callie’s behind me in the open stall a few seconds later. “Makayla, are you okay?”

  I can’t answer her because I’m still dry heaving the emptiness in my stomach. I stand up and she backs up out of the stall. I go to the sink and rinse my mouth and grab a paper towel to dry my face. “I’m fine. It’s just nerves about the trial. I got sick this morning too.” I inhale a deep breath and assure her, “I feel better now.”

  She nods and chews her lip.

  “What?”

  “You don’t think”—she shakes her head uncertainly—“you don’t think you’re pregnant, do you?”

  “What? No,” I say without hesitation, but as I do, I
’m flooded with anxiety.

  “Makayla, are you okay in there?” Kellan calls into the bathroom.

  I don’t answer. I can’t answer. My lungs are too busy searching for air.

  “She’s fine,” Callie answers. “Just give us a second.” She looks at me expectantly.

  “I have to call Mia.”

  “What? Why?”

  I pull out my phone and call her.

  “Hey,” she answers. “How did everything go today?”

  “Mia.”

  “What? ... What’s the matter?” she asks, when I don’t answer.

  “My shot. ”

  “Your shot? What are you talking about?”

  “The birth control shot you gave me on the island. How long did you say that it would last?”

  “Three months. Why?”

  It hasn’t been three months since she gave it to me. I put my hand over my relieved heart. “Okay, good. I’ve been feeling sick and I thought maybe...” I laugh at myself for even thinking it.

  “Makayla,” she says carefully, “it’s not one hundred percent effective. No birth control method is. If you think you might be pregnant, you need to take a test.”

  Kellan calls into the bathroom again, “Makayla? Do I need to come in there?”

  “No,” I clip. “I’m fine. Just give me a second.” I don’t mean to yell at him, but I’m having an out of body experience.

  “Makayla, do you think you’re pregnant?” Mia asks, and I feel the blood drain from my face.

  “No... I don’t know... Maybe,” I say, knowing it’s possible. But I can’t hide the panic in my voice. I can’t be pregnant. I can’t be.

  Callie gives me a knowing look.

  “Okay. Well, calm down. It’s going to be fine. You probably aren’t. But I really think you should take a pregnancy test to be sure.”

  I cringe at the thought. “How? Kellan’s with me twenty-four-seven.”

  “Tell him what you’re doing,” she says pointedly.

  “Are you kidding me? I can’t tell him this. He’ll freak out.”

  Callie gives me a worried look.

  Maybe he won’t, but I can’t chance it.

  “Makayla,” she scolds, in typical Mia fashion, but when I don’t respond, she knows that I’m not budging. “Fine. Then just tell him you need to pick up a box of tampons and buy a pregnancy test instead. Take it when he’s asleep.”