He couldn’t take his eyes off of Rhees, even when Tracy planted her lips on his and tried to pull his head around, and Regina snapped another picture.
Chapter 22
A few days later, Rhees had dinner at home, alone for the second night in a row. She took her time getting dressed, put on her brown dress, and asked the mirror, “Too much?”
She felt the need to look good but wondered why she cared about looking her best. The day before, Ulla and Dorene had approached her, asking if she thought it possible Paul could have taken Shelli to the mainland with him. Nothing could have taken her breath away more. They went on to explain how Shelli hadn’t returned home that night and no one at Island Divers had seen her all day.
“The new guy Shelli’s been seeing said they had a fight. She told him she planned to go to the mainland, and he hasn’t heard from her since. He found out later that Paul went to the mainland too, and since he’d seen them together just a few nights before . . .” Ulla said in her Scandinavian accent.
“Did Paul mention that he and Shelli had worked things out? Maybe he did take her with him,” Dorene had said.
“He didn’t say anything about it to me,” Rhees had told them. Their contemptuous expressions as they walked away flashed through her memory. They seemed quite pleased with themselves that even if Shelli wasn’t with Paul, they’d at least ruined Rhees’ day.
Rhees really didn’t know, and she reminded herself he was a grown man, able to choose for himself. She felt stupid to think he would change who—what—he was just for her.
Taylor had insisted Paul take him to the mainland to hit a few night clubs his last night. Rhees looked at the clock, seven forty-seven. Paul should be on the ferry by now. The thought made her heart flutter, but she couldn’t be sure whether it was the anticipation of seeing him again soon, or the fear she was on her way to verify he really had been with Shelli.
Paul planned to escort Taylor to the airport on the mainland and see him off, but Taylor’s flight back to the states didn’t take off until five thirty. The last flight to the island landed at three o’clock every afternoon, which meant Paul would miss it, but he’d assured her he could catch a taxi and make the two-and-a-half-hour drive in time to board the last ferry of the day with time to spare.
She looked down at her brown dress again. It was the best thing she had—it would have to do. She ran into the bathroom to see what she could do with her dive hair. She usually wore it proudly, but Shelli was so pretty. She sighed as she stared at herself in the mirror. She didn’t have the time, or a curling iron, and she needed to get out the door.
Meet me at Tanked at eight twenty . . . and save a dance for me. Paul’s words played through her mind.
“Sure you want to rush back?” she’d asked. “You and Taylor might stop ignoring that undeniable bond you two have and you could follow him back to Florida.”
He’d laughed at that but then swore, mumbling something about never going back to Florida.
“I’ll have my dance within minutes after getting off the last ferry, I promise.”
He wouldn’t ask me to meet him if he’d rather be with Shelli, would he?
oOo
Rhees made it to the bar with ten minutes to spare. She found Tracy and Regina playing dominoes, and decided to watch until Paul showed up. She found herself concentrating more on the entrance and the clock behind the bar than on the game.
Eight fifteen—the ferry should be disembarking. Thirty minutes later, still no sign of Paul. She leaned over and yelled at Regina over the music.
“I’m going to walk down to the ferry and look for Paul. If he shows up here, tell him I’ll be back.”
Regina’s eyes widened at the mention of Paul’s name, and it made Rhees feel bad for her. She put her hand on Regina’s shoulder. She knew the poor girl had it bad for the man. She wished she would’ve told Tracy instead.
Rhees made it to the ferry by eight fifty. It gently rocked against the dock, and it looked deserted, except for a few workers cleaning and preparing it for the first run early the next morning. All the passengers were long gone.
She made it back to Tanked, hoping they’d crossed paths somehow and Paul was waiting for her there. He wasn’t. Regina looked as disappointed as Rhees felt that he hadn’t made it. Rhees tried not to let her fears get the best of her. She ran through the possibilities. Maybe he had to check something out at the shop, or maybe he ran home to change. Maybe he ran into friends somewhere and he was in the middle of an important discussion . . . Or he was off boinking Shelli.
Rhees almost hyperventilated and needed to get her mind off the whole thing. She grabbed a novel from the book-share shelf and sat at the table where she and Paul had talked her second night on the island. She glanced at the entrance once more, sighed, and began to read. Luckily, it didn’t take long to get absorbed into the story.
“Hey!”
Her heart fluttered again. “Hey!” she said a little too eagerly before her eyes left her book. A strange man stood before her and it almost made her sick to know she’d greeted this stranger with such warm enthusiasm.
“Hi. I’m Mario.” He extended his hand.
She forced a smile and offered hers in return, staring at his knuckles. “I’m Rhees. That looks nasty. What happened to your hand?”
He looked at his knuckles and shrugged. “Got scraped up on some coral.”
“That’s why we teach divers to look, but not touch,” she said. Paradise Divers diligently worked to instill respect for the reef to all their divers. “Diving 101.”
Annoyance flickered across his eyes for a second before he smiled, too charmingly. “Tell that to the guy who pushed me into the coral. It never ceases to amaze me how oblivious some divers are to the other divers around them.”
“Yeah, I’ve had that problem too. It’s like, ‘Hey, it’s a big ocean. Is it so hard to just stay in your own lane’?” She giggled. She’d wondered before why some divers thought they needed to dive in the same space she occupied, bumping into her, pushing her out of their way, kicking the regulator right out of her mouth.
“How’s the book? I’ve wanted to read that one.”
“It’s very interesting.” She looked around for a clock but didn’t see one from where she sat. “Do you have the time?”
It felt a little awkward to her that he sat down at the table before he looked at his watch. “It’s ten minutes to midnight. Can I buy you a drink?”
She hadn’t noticed how much time had passed. It left her feeling a little disoriented. That, and knowing now for sure that Paul wasn’t going to show. She wanted to be alone, feel sorry for herself, but Mario demanded her attention, trying so hard to be nice. It would be rude to pout in front of him. She would rather allow herself to slip into a depressed episode, but this stranger kept her from her due emotions.
“No thanks. I think I’m ready to call it a night.”
“One night cap—it’ll help you sleep.”
“No. I’m not much of a drinker, but thanks.”
“I’m not taking no for an answer.” He glared at her with a severe expression, sending a chill down her spine, but then he smiled, such a warm smile. “I insist.”
“Okay, one Coke Light and then I’m heading home.” She didn’t want a Coke, but she didn’t want to offend him.
“Great.” Mario didn’t wait for the waitress to come to them. He jumped up and went to the bar. It took longer than she expected, so she opened her book again, hoping to get in another paragraph. The book was her best defense, since the one thought haunting her mind all night was the fact that Paul didn’t show and the idea that he didn’t show because he preferred Shelli’s company over hers.
“One Coke Light,” he said, setting a bottle in front of her and sitting back down with a smile. He clinked his beer to her
Coke bottle. “Cheers.”
He guzzled down half his beer while Rhees only sipped hers.
“Drink,” he said, lifting his bottle and sounding a bit impatient, snappish even. He took another mouthful of his own.
Oh my gosh! What’s his problem? She didn’t even want it. Now he acted like she’d begged him to buy her the stupid soda against his will. She took the bottle of Coke Light and drank down a couple of gulps. She couldn’t wait to get it over with either.
She half-heartedly listened to him talk about himself for what seemed a lifetime. She didn’t hear much of what he said, but found her mind wandering, wondering things like, How is the circulation in his arms not completely cut off? It baffled her how his tight, tight T-shirt didn’t just shred because of the way his ridiculously bulgy muscles didn’t just burst right through the fabric. Images of the Incredible Hulk, going through the change from human to Hulk, went through her mind.
Rhees shook her head to clear it. “How long have you been on the island? I’ve never seen you around.”
“I’ve been here about a week. Not long, but long enough to hear the best gossip and know which girls I want to get lucky with.” He winked at her.
Eew! This guy is really in love with himself. She took another drink and looked at the level in her bottle, a little less than half empty, more left than she’d hoped. Something about the guy gave her the creeps. “I’m waiting for Paul Weaver. Have you heard of him? We’re meeting up here tonight.”
She optimistically thought dropping Paul’s name would save her from Mario’s creepy, scrutinizing glare. Everyone on the island knew Paul, everyone respected Paul, and everyone was possibly just a little afraid of Paul.
“It’s late. I don’t think your friend is coming.” He checked his watch. “Only a fool would leave a pretty girl like you to fend for herself.”
Fed up with his arrogance, she reached for her bottle, planning to chug down the rest so she could just leave. After one swallow, she had to stop. She felt a little dizzy.
“Excuse me. I need to use the bathroom.” She usually did everything in her power to avoid the bathroom at Tanked, but she was more worried about throwing up at the moment than the germs.
She stood but he grabbed her wrist. She glared at him as he jumped up to help her sit again, before she had a chance to get too indignant . . . and pass out.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I don’t feel too well.”
“How unfortunate,” he said. “I was enjoying your lovely company. Let me help you home.”
“No. That’s won’t, is neces . . . es . . .” She grew increasingly confused and disoriented.
Mario stood and helped her up. “It’s time to go.”
“I’m going to be sick,” she said but he ignored her and put his arm around her waist, guiding her toward the entrance.
Regina had been watching them, disappointed with her roommate. She thought Rhees had a chance with the most perfect man in this world, but the next good-looking man came along and Paul was completely forgotten. She wanted to say something, give Rhees a tongue-lashing, but her anger . . . she couldn’t speak to her right then. Feeling livid, she watched the two of them get up to leave, until she noticed something not quite right.
The man held his arm around Rhees and tried to make it look like they were walking out together, but Rhees’ feet weren’t moving. She was barely conscious and it didn’t take long for Regina to figure out why. She stood to face Mario and block his path.
“That is my roommate. I will take her from here.”
“You? You’re tiny. You’d never get her home. It’s not a problem, I’ll do it.”
“Tracy!” Regina said, counting on Tracy’s size to help her bluff. Tracy didn’t have it in her to defend against anything, but this guy didn’t know that. Tracy stood, her tall, big-boned figure even with Mario’s. “We can manage.”
“Your roommate wants to come home with me, at least that’s what she said before she had too much to drink. She practically begged me.”
“Bullshit,” Regina huffed. “She’s not going anywhere with you.” She looked around for more help. It was late. Ulla, Krista, and Brita were the only other people left in the bar except for the female bartender, who was almost as small as she was. “Tracy, go tell Ulla that Rhees needs help.”
Tracy raced over to the other girls. Mario moved to step around Regina, but she moved to match his step, refusing to let him pass. His expression began to present the anger that brewed behind his cool, I’m-a-stud facade.
Tracy returned and didn’t do a very good job of hiding how ill she felt. “Ulla said she’d call the guys, um . . . Mitch and Dobbs, and um . . . they’re just a couple bars down the street. Um, they can be here, soon, very soon.”
Regina almost sighed at Tracy’s attempt to lie—Tracy had always been a lousy liar. Ulla and the other girls got up and started walking out of the bar, looking over with contempt on their faces.
“I don’t think they’re calling anyone,” Mario said.
“Tracy, go get Dobbs,” Regina said through her clenched teeth. She couldn’t believe the girls would turn their back on one of their own. Tracy was gone in a split second, understanding the urgency.
“You have this all wrong. Rhees and I spent the evening together. We made quite a connection, but she drank a little too much. I told her to slow down, but I think she’s upset that her friend, Paul, stood her up. She finally said she wanted to get drunk and sleep with me to get him off her mind.”
“You’re lying. I saw Rhees reading all night, not drinking, and she would never indulge herself with revenge—or sex.”
Mario glared at Regina. Nothing stood in his way except Regina, and possibly the barmaid, if she cared. “Your friend is in good hands. She’ll thank you in the morning for not interfering.”
“You’re not taking her anywhere.”
“Who will stop me?” Mario finally hissed. “No one gives a shit except you. Now move out of my way before you get hurt.”
Regina folded her arms to confirm she didn’t plan to budge. Mario’s eyes blazed with anger. He grabbed her by the arm and threw her against the wall. She hit her head and fell to the ground. He picked Rhees up so he could move faster and scurried down the long, narrow path to the street just as Paul came around the corner, Tracy right behind. Paul’s hands fisted, and the look on his face reflected rage.
oOo
Tracy ran from the bar, on her way to Dobbs’ apartment. She’d only made it about a hundred yards when she saw Paul headed her way.
“Paul!” she sobbed. “It’s Rhees.”
Paul froze. He knew immediately, the news would be bad. “Where?”
“Tanked.”
Paul took off and didn’t stop for Tracy as he passed her on the street. All he could think about was getting to Rhees. Tracy filled him in on the situation as she ran after him, trying to keep up. His fury grew with every word she said and every step he took closer to the bar. He rounded the corner and stopped dead in his tracks. Mario stopped too.
Paul stepped closer. His jaw set and his cheek twitched. It took him several seconds to say anything, trying not to just jump in and kill the sleazebag. “I’ll take her from here.”
Mario let out a loud breath. “I’m getting tired of everyone trying to keep me and my new girlfriend apart. Step out of the way.”
Paul hated seeing her in his arms. The fact she was unconscious made him cringe. It took every bit of his might to not lose control. “Rohypnol?”
Suddenly, Mario’s smug demeanor cracked, but before he could decide on his next move, Rhees stirred.
“I’m sick,” Rhees mumbled. Her mouth opened and brown, cola-colored vomit spilled from her mouth and ran down Mario’s tight grey shirt. Mario watched as if it all happened in slow mo
tion.
“You bitch!” he yelled, staring at the vomit, not wanting to touch it but feeling desperate to get it off of him. He threw Rhees down. Paul lunged to catch her but only made it in time to break her fall. He checked her over quickly, then jumped up and flew at Mario in a vicious attack.
Paul was taller but Mario’s bulk and weight should have given him the advantage—it would have if it weren’t for Paul’s lack of reserve—he never did anything halfway. Athletic and agile, Paul never missed his target, while Mario rarely made contact with his swings. It didn’t take long for the fight to go from two men duking it out to Mario just trying to protect himself.
Rhees stirred again and Tracy helped her sit up in case she vomited again. Regina came to her senses and crawled to the fight in time to scream for Paul to stop beating Mario before someone called the police, but he relentlessly hammered away on the man’s face.
Rhees looked up to see Paul thrashing against Mario, and all she could think about was Paul nearly killing the hobo from Taylor’s story. Images of Paul sitting in a foreign prison for murder flashed through her hazy mind.
“Paul,” she begged. “Pleease . . . nooo.”
Her plea snapped Paul from his rage. He let one last punch fall before reluctantly dragging himself away from his original intent—to make sure this man never touched Rhees or took another breath again. He crawled over to her, pulled her into his lap, and brushed the hair away from her face. He gently wiped the vomit off her chin with his thumb and wiped it on his jeans. She was only barely awake.
“No prison . . . don’t kill . . . please . . .” Her consciousness faded.
Paul noticed Mario stirring. “There’s a ferry at six o’clock tomorrow morning. If I see you one second after it leaves, I’m going to the police,” Paul said.
Wet: Part 1 Page 25
