by Lena North
Seaborn
Lena North
Copyright © 2018 by Lena North
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any manner whatsoever without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Cover design: Copyright © 2018 by FAB Publishing.
Illustrations on cover: Copyright © 2018 by Lena North
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Discover other titles by Lena North:
Birds of a Feather series:
Wilder
Sweet Water
Picture This
Black Snow
Reaper
The Dreughan series:
Courage
Reason
Joy
47 Sweet Street
Bitter Sweet Street
Sissa Raudulfsdatter:
Runes of Fate
My thanks
To Nina and Al.
Half this book is written at your kitchen table, so thanks for pretending you didn’t notice how part of my brain was on the Islands while we drank wine and laughed. At least I didn’t make either of you a mermaid :)
And as always, to my family.
Chapter One
Escape
Charlie
Blood sprayed out of my nostrils when I coughed, sliding through the air as if in slow-motion until the small drops hit the glass in front of me. I watched them glide slowly down the storefront window, wishing I could let the poor store owner know how sorry I was for soiling her otherwise immaculate display.
“Hello,” a voice said in my ear, and I jolted.
I’d forgotten the phone I held pressed to my ear.
“Hey,” I said, but it came out slurry and hoarse.
“Who is this?”
“Carrie, it’s me. Lottie.”
“Lottie?”
“I need help,” I murmured.
“What’s wrong, you sound –”
“My ex. He hurt me.”
I stumbled around the corner into the side alley with a pounding head, burning ribs, and a foot that didn’t quite seem to work.
“Shit. Where are you?”
“Southie.”
“I’ll come and –”
“Dangerous,” I ground out. “I need to get away, Carrie. You said you knew how to escape.”
My voice hitched a little, but it wasn’t from tears. Not yet, I promised myself. The tears could come later. Right then all my focus had to be on survival. On hiding in an alley and sliding down the wall behind a dumpster where he couldn’t find me. All I had at that moment was a will to survive and a desperate hope my co-worker could help me get away.
“Lottie…”
“Please.”
“Can you get to the south airport?” she asked immediately.
The airport was a couple of miles away. Three maybe. It would take me an hour to walk if I even made it, but I couldn’t risk taking a cab even part of the way. I’d grabbed my wallet from the coffee table as I ran, although I didn’t have nearly enough cash in it, but it didn’t matter. Using my card would leave a trail for him to follow so I couldn’t. My swollen eyes and the way blood ran from my nose and mouth would also be remembered, so I’d have to walk.
“I can be there in an hour,” I rasped out.
I’m strong, I thought. Fit. The foot was banged up, but it wasn’t broken.
“You’re sure?” Carrie asked, sounding uncertain.
“Yes.”
I’d rather walk through the fires of purgatory than let that man find me, so I was sure because I had to be sure.
“Okay. Can I call you back?”
“You can’t tell anyone –”
“I have to tell Benito, Lottie. He’s a pilot, and he’ll take you away from here. I’ve known Ben all my life, he won’t talk. Promise.”
There wasn’t any other way. I’d have to trust Carrie. We’d worked on the same team for two years and weren’t friends outside the office because I couldn’t have close friends. I’d tried but he drove them off, by being rude to them until they gave up, or telling me what would happen to them if I didn’t pull back, so I stopped calling and eventually, they did too. But Carrie and I were co-workers who talked every day, so in a way, we were friends after all. And Carrie knew who my former boyfriend was, and what he was capable of.
“Okay,” I whispered. “I’ll hold on to the phone for ten more minutes, then I’ll leave it behind.”
“Shit,” Carrie said again. “Okay. Shit. Move toward the airport, Lottie.”
I closed the call without saying goodbye and started walking. Everything hurt, but now I had a plan, and that gave me the strength to keep moving, step after agonizing step. I’d pulled the hood up to cover my face and used the arm to wipe off blood as I walked, hoping the dark blue color would hide the stains. The phone was in my hand, and I answered before the first silent buzz had come to an end.
“Yeah?”
“Benito is waiting for you. Side door, west of the building.”
“Side door, west of the building,” I echoed. “Carrie?”
“Yes?”
“Thanks.”
“Oh, Lottie...”
I could hear how Carrie sniffled but didn’t know what to say to assure her everything would be okay. It wasn’t okay, and I wasn’t sure it ever would be.
“Carrie?” I rasped out, finally.
“Yes?”
“In my real life, the one I had before him… I wasn’t Lottie then. I had a real life once, and everyone called me Charlie.”
A sob came through the phone, and a quiet, “Oh, sweetie.”
“I’ll keep moving toward the airport now.”
Then I closed the call and started the long, painful walk toward my escape. I stopped outside a convenience store to put the phone in the back of a pick-up, hoping the owners wouldn’t get hurt if someone were tracing the signal.
When I reached the airport terminal, my head was spinning, and it felt as if I was stumbling along in a strange bubble where all sounds were warped, and the only emotion available was a dull, thumping pain.
“Side door, west of the building,” I repeated as a mantra, placing one foot in front of the other until I walked straight into a man.
“Jesus. Fuck, what the –”
I tried to smile and used the sleeve of my hoodie to wipe away sweat and blood from eyes that were swollen almost completely shut.
“Benito?” I asked.
“You’re Carries friend?”
“Yeah.”
“Jesus,” he repeated and reached for me.
“I’m good,” I mumbled and sidestepped. “No one can know I’m here.”
“I know,” he said. “Shit. Okay, let’s go.”
He led me around the building, through a gate, and over the tarmac. When I was sitting in one of the passenger seats, he tilted the chair all the way back and wrapped a blanket gently around me.
“Thank you,” I slurred. “Don’t talk about me on the radio.”
“What?”
“He might hear. There can’t be any trails to follow.”
“Okay, honey. Okay. Shit. Just rest, and we’ll leave in a few minutes.”
There was no way I’d relax, not as long as he could find me, but it was nice to take the weight off my aching foot and close the small slits that were my eyes. Then the engines roared, the plane started moving, and finally – we were in the air.
Silent
ly, hot tears started running across my temples and into my dirty and blood-streaked hair. Two minutes later, I slept.
***
Joao
Joao Torres was bored.
“This is a nice place,” the woman in front of him said calmly.
She was sweet and kind, and everything about her was cute as a button. Even her nickname was charming.
Mimi.
Her big brown eyes watched him with soft happiness, and Joao wondered what his goddamned problem was. All his friends seemed to pair up, and he was ready. He wanted to meet someone to build a life with, and Mimi was perfect. They had dated casually at first, but exclusively for six months. Everyone was happy when they started going out and had told him repeatedly how lucky he was.
“It sure is, honey,” he murmured, and the smile in her eyes spread over her face.
Maybe he just wasn’t a passionate man, he thought. Maybe desire faded away when you grew older. His fifteen-year-old self would have laughed for hours at the thought of having someone like Mimi available for unlimited sex, and not having it for weeks. He couldn’t even remember the last time they’d slept together. Was it two weeks ago? No, it had been before that theft at the hotel, and he had been busy, so it was almost three weeks. Jesus.
“You want to go for a walk on the beach?” he asked.
“Of course,” she murmured.
He stopped by the bar to pay for their meal and frowned when he found himself thinking that it would be nice if she didn’t always expect him to pay.
Where had that come from? He didn’t mind and would rather have pushed dull pins into his eyeballs than let a woman pay for his meal. Feminism-sheminism, he thought. Strong women had always been a turn on for him, and he was all in on equal opportunities, but there were limits. A man paid the tab, and that was just that. So why did it bother him all of a sudden?
“Thank you so much,” Mimi said quietly. “It was a lovely meal. You always take such good care of me.”
“You’re welcome, honey,” he said. “I like taking care of you.”
He did. He couldn’t remember a time in his life when he hadn’t been the one who took care of everyone. The big brother. The good son. Grandson. Chief of police. Protector of the Islands.
They were walking hand in hand along the water when Mimi suddenly stumbled, and he noticed how she was struggling.
“I’m sorry,” she said and made a face. “It’s a little difficult to walk in the sand with heels.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You wanted to walk on the beach, and I thought I’d be fine.”
“Here, give them to me,” he offered.
“I can’t go barefoot, Joao.”
Right, he thought. She wouldn’t want to destroy the nail polish. He loved her small, dainty feet with the pale pink polish she had them put on her nails, so he bent down to pick her off the ground. She squealed, and he started laughing as he carried her to the sidewalk.
“We can walk here,” he murmured.
“Thank you,” she said.
They had reached the end of the pavement and stood in silence, watching the ocean swaying quietly in front of them.
“It’s beautiful,” Mimi said and leaned her head on his chest.
The soft sounds from the waves soothed him like they always did, and he wondered why he had been so irritated before. Life was good. Calm and peaceful. It was time to move on with life and accept what was given to him. And accept what he’d never have.
“Mimi, I’ve been thinking,” he started, and her face turned up toward his.
He could see clearly that she already knew what he was going to ask her.
“Yes, Joao?” she murmured.
“We’ve been seeing each other for a while now, sweetie, and I would like to –”
His phone cut him off, and he tried desperately to ignore it. He was about to propose to his girlfriend for fuck’s sake.
“Would like to ask you –”
The phone rang again, and he couldn’t go on. Something could have happened. Someone could be dead.
With a frustrated sigh, he pulled it out and looked at it. His brows went up in surprise, and he turned to the girl who had stepped out of his arms and was watching him with a look he didn’t recognize. Was that anger he saw on her face?
“I’m sorry, Mimi. I have to –”
“Is it more important than me?” she asked.
“It could be,” he answered truthfully.
Someone could be injured, or dead, so yeah, he thought. I could be more important than Mimi.
“Really?” she breathed.
The phone rang again, and he answered, holding her gaze.
“Hey, Uncle Nico, what’s –”
“I have a situation at my house, and I need you here,” his uncle said.
“Now?”
Silence.
“Uncle Nico, this isn’t a good time. Is it an emergency? I can –”
“Joao,” the deep voice said calmly.
He recognized the tone and knew he wouldn’t propose to anyone that night.
“Is it –” he still tried to protest, only to be cut off again.
“Joao. I have a situation at my house, and when I call you this late on a Saturday night, knowing well that you and Mimi are on a date, you should know that you need to listen to me when I tell you I need you at my house.”
Shit.
“Now,” the older man added, and closed the call.
Joao sighed, but his mind was already halfway up the hill to his Aunt and Uncle’s house. What the hell could have happened?
“I have to go,” he murmured.
“Of course, you do. I would have thought that since you are off duty one of the others could handle your uncle, but I understand,” Mimi murmured in her usual sweet voice,
“I’m sorry, honey. I’ll take you home. Perhaps we can go sailing tomorrow?”
“You’re not stopping by later?”
He almost said he would. Three goddamned weeks, he thought.
“I don’t know how late it’ll be,” he heard himself saying instead.
She stepped closer and put her arms around him, and tilted her head back. He leaned down to kiss her, and she moved against him.
It was a nice kiss. Sweet.
Jesus, he thought. He was getting old because nothing stirred even a little in his pants.
“We have to go,” he said and moved them back toward the village. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know what happened at Uncle Nico’s place so I’ll just call you tomorrow, okay?”
“Okay,” she agreed. “I understand.”
While he drove up the mountain, he was annoyed again. At his uncle and life, but most of all at himself. What the hell was he expecting?
***
Charlie
My mind was filled with a cloud of pink spun sugar, I was sure of it. Everything felt abso-freaking-lutely fan-effing-tastic.
They had taken me directly from the plane to something which looked like a small clinic, and I thought I remembered x-rays and someone putting a needle in my arm. That same someone asked what my name was, but the painkillers they pumped me full of had started to kick in and before my sluggish brain managed to come up with something suitably anonymous, the doctor-looking man told them I was Mary Andersson. The nurse had snarled something under her breath, and her eyes had been hard and angry as she watched me.
“And to think people ask me why I’m a lesbian,” she muttered and went on with the paperwork.
After that, my mind had gone slightly blurry, but there had been a car and a peach colored house. I thought.
There was movement in the corner room the nice doctor-looking man had told his nice hippie-looking wife to put me in.
“Who are you?” I asked.
It couldn’t be him. He would find me, but not yet. It should take him several weeks this time, so I would have time to heal.
&
nbsp; “How are you feeling?”
“Kay,” I murmured and tried to grin, but my mouth wouldn’t move. “I have no lips,” I said, which sounded more like, “Jabba-dabba-dolits,” to me, so I giggled stupidly, although it came out mostly as a small cough.
“Do you remember me?”
“Doc,” I managed to get out.
“That’s right. I’m Carries dad and a doctor. You’re in my home.”
“Kay.”
“This is my nephew, Joao.”
“Hey.”
“He’s the chief of police on the –”
I was halfway out of the bed when they caught hold of me, but I struggled and screamed as I tried to fight the strong hands pinning my arms to her sides.
“Calm down,” a deep voice said.
“Let go!” I yelled.
“Joao, let go of her,” a woman said sharply, and the hands disappeared immediately. “Both of you, move back.”
I sank down on the bed again, breathing heavily and trying to open my eyes enough to see who they were. The room started spinning, and my body suddenly felt like lead, but I forced myself to raise my chin and pretend that I glared at the men by the door.
“You’re safe,” the woman crooned. “We’re Carries parents. She asked us to take care of you.”
“No police,” I murmured.
“Joao will –”
“No police.”
“It’s okay. He’s our nephew. You don’t have to worry.”
“No police,” I repeated as I sank back down on the bed.
The woman’s gentle hand moved my legs, and then a soft blanket was draped around me.
“You’re safe with us,” the doctor said quietly.
I turned my head toward the two men who had approached the bed again. They crouched down next to me, and with a herculean effort, I opened my eyes to look at them.
The man called Joao was big and muscular. He had light brown dreadlocks which almost reached his shoulders and a lean, hard face. He looked angry but when I turned my face around, the light went straight into my eyes, and his jaw fell.
“What the fuck,” he whispered.
“What?” I slurred.
