“It’s okay. It’s easy to say in a situation like this.”
Rick’s eyebrows drew together. “What situation is that?”
“Like you said, I am the only girl on the boat. The only available girl, unless you plan on doing something sordid with your sister’s friends.”
His lip tilted in a devilish grin that did something wonderful to my insides. “If I say no, does that mean you’d be sordid with me.”
My mouth tumbled open. Gods, how I wished this could be real. I wished this could be Rick’s true feeling toward me, but it could not be.
I was a siren.
A siren who had already touched the man far too many times for him to have free will around me.
“Hey.” Rick wrapped his arm around my waist, the heat from his palm warming my back and making my toes curl. “Where’d you go?”
“What do you mean?”
“You do that a lot, tumble off into your own thoughts.” He pulled my chin back to look at him with his free hand. “Don’t shut me out.”
“I do not know you to let you in.”
I lied, but then again, how do you tell a man you have sort of been stalking him for the last year. Risking your life by swimming close enough to divers in hopes that it was him, only to have your heart crushed when it was not. My sister was right, I was deranged, and it only took being in Rick’s arms to prove it.
“I’d like to change that.”
“Change what?”
Rick chuckled. “Knowing you. I’d like to get to know you, Sirena.”
“Your charter is over in the morning. You’ll get off my boat—”
“Yacht,” Rick corrected.
“Yacht,” I conceded. “You’ll go back to Texas and find a girl you can have the hint of a possibility with.”
“Or I can look at your foot, take you up to the observation deck, and spend what little time I do have with you getting to know you. Maybe you could…”
“Go to Texas with you?”
He smiled. “It’s a beautiful state.”
“Rick, I can not go to Texas. I can not leave this boat.”
His smile faded as the realization of our circumstances set in.
“I am from a small island off Puerto Rico. You are from Texas. I live in the water. You will not touch it.”
I pressed my finger against his mouth, stopping the objection.
“Your sister loves and needs you. Mine cannot say my name without disgust curling her lip. It is okay,” I assured him as his eyes softened. “My life is not bad. It just cannot be great.”
Rick’s eyes searched mine, looking for something, and when they did not find what they were looking for, he let me go. The ache spread its cold fingers, magnifying the way my body mourned the loss of his touch. I swallowed hard as he reached for the handle to leave the bathroom.
“I know we just met, Sirena, but have you ever met someone and felt like you’ve known them your entire life?”
I nodded despite myself.
“I don’t know how, but I know you’re supposed to be in my life. So, yes, I may be getting off your charter tomorrow. Doesn’t mean I’m leaving your life.”
I started to object, but this time Rick pressed his finger to my lips.
“All I’m asking for is a cup of hot chocolate, a night of star gazing and chatting. And maybe, before we do that, you’ll let me look at your foot and make sure you’re okay.”
The smart thing would have been to say no. Then again, I never had been a smart siren, and I was proving to be an even stupider girl.
“Fine.” I sat down on the covered toilet and kicked my foot up in the air, wiggling my toes. “You can look at my foot, but I am not promising you anything else.”
That tilted smile broke the seriousness on Rick’s face. “Sweet thing, all I have to do is get my hands on you once, and you won’t ever say no to me again.”
I felt my smile fall a little. Rick didn’t notice he was already busy examining my ankle.
“That’s weird,” he murmured.
“What?”
“You’re foot has first degree burn splotches, but that’s not what’s weird.” He turned my foot so the inside of my ankle caught the bathroom light. “Have you always had this?” He pointed to the skin around the inside of my anklebone.
I leaned forward, my forehead nearly touching his, and examined the white intersecting lines that formed a circle.
“No.” I had never had feet before.
“My sister has one, too.” He twisted my ankle back and forth, studying the lines under the light. “Mom always said she should have named Roxanne Rose.”
“Rose?”
“The birthmark, it looks like a mariner’s compass rose.” Rick pulled his attention from my foot. “My mom had a thing for compass roses, always telling us to find our true north.”
I watched his eyes take on that faraway look, like he was traveling to each time and each place he spoke of.
“The minute I pulled my first artifact from the ocean floor, she said I’d found my north, it just happened to be under the sea. It was Rox Mom was always worried about. Given what I discovered after her death…” Rick shook the thought away. “Doesn’t matter. Looks like we have another item to tick off in the common list.”
“The common list.”
“You were busy telling me how different we were. I think we’ve got more in common than you think.”
My stomach rolled again. If he only knew.
Silence stretched between us. Rick’s hand rested on my foot, our thoughts lost in each other’s gaze. I could feel him surrendering to me, and nothing saddened me more, until the engines turned over.
“Are we going somewhere?” Rick asked, standing up and extending his hand toward me. I wiped my palms on my skirt and stood up without his help. Rick Martin was a good man, and I was not ready to totally take that from him … not yet, at least.
“We’re supposed to be anchored for the night.” I pushed past the man in my bathroom.
“Doesn’t sound like it.”
I ignored the hurt tone in his voice. If he really knew me, that hurt would be hate, and he would have been glad I had not taken his hand … and his life.
7
Rick
Despite the inexplicable need to find out what Sirena was hiding, something up top wasn’t right. And given the way my hackles seemed to spring to life with each riser we climbed from the crew quarters, I knew Roxanne was behind the engines turning over. And if the engines were turned over, that meant the anchor was drawn. And if the anchor was drawn, then we were headed somewhere.
It was that somewhere that had the pit in my stomach threatening to swallow me whole.
We hightailed it through the kitchen, out the stern, and climbed the last set of stairs to the bridge. Roxy’s ponytail swishing back and forth like an amped-up cheerleader on too much caffeine was my second confirmation my little sister was behind our sudden departure.
I reached around Sirena, noting the way she started when I brushed her arm, and opened the wheelhouse door. “What the hell’s going on?”
Roxy spun on her heels; the other girls’ eyes went wide—like they should have—but it was the smug grin on Tiki’s face that made my blood boil. When I saw that pompous grin was directed at Sirena, it took everything in me not to knock the man on his ass.
“Rox?” I focused all my anger on her. “What did you do now?”
She popped her hip, and that was all the confirmation I needed to know she was leading the charge on this new expedition.
“I didn’t do anything. I agreed we should do something, but technically I didn’t do it.”
“Rox.”
She pulled her shoulders, which in Roxy body language meant I was really going to hate the next words that left her mouth, and my sweet little sister didn’t give a damn.
“I extended our charter.”
“With what money?” I tried to stay calm.
“The money we saved from cancel
ing the rest our week at the hotel.”
Heat raced down my spine. “And your things?”
“Are already on board.”
I crossed the distance of the bridge in three easy strides, watching Roxy’s jaw jut out. “Where are we going, Rox?”
“Puerto Rico.”
“I don’t have a passport on me.”
Her eyes twinkled. “You don’t have to have one. It’s a U.S. territory.”
“Why Puerto Rico?”
“Tell him, Tiki.”
I didn’t pull my eyes from my little sister. Anyone who knew us knew this was a good old-fashioned Texas standoff. First one to blink usually ended up dead, or at least disgraced.
“Roxanne wants to see Mosquito Bay.”
“No.” Sirena stole the words before they left my lips.
I pulled my attention from Roxy, conceding this round, and watched Tiki rock back on his heels, the smug smile dropping from his face.
“What do you mean by no, Sirena? This isn’t your charter.”
“Necesitamos hablar.”
“No.” Tiki seemed to dismiss Sirena with a toss of his hand.
“Ahora.” Sirena pointed a finger at Tiki and then downstairs, muttering, “Vete pal carajo.”
I didn’t know if it was the full-on go fuck yourself Sirena muttered or that her finger seemed to be more dangerous than a loaded gun, but Tiki’s face hardened into sharp, jagged lines. And none of it seemed to faze Sirena. My feisty girl turned so fast on her heels all the air sucked out of the room with her.
Including my heart.
When had I started to think of Sirena as my girl?
I snagged Roxy by the arm as she tried to sneak past me, hauling her up onto her tiptoes. “You and I need to have a talk.”
“No, we don’t, Rick.” I hated the soft tone of her voice. She was hurt, and that look in her eyes told me I was the one who had hurt her. “You’re going to tell me I’m reckless, and I’m going to tell you to stop lying to me.”
“I never lied to you.”
Roxy pulled something out of her back pocket with her free hand. “Omission of facts is a lie dressed up in pretty letters.” She wiggled the folded-up piece of paper in front of my face, dangling it like it was bait for a bigger fish.
And I bit.
I let Roxy go, taking the paper from her fingers and feeling the icy fingers of regret wrap around my conscience. If we were headed to Puerto Rico and Rox wanted to see Mosquito Bay, I already knew what the paper held.
I unfolded Rox’s damning evidence. The words were in Spanish, but Mom’s smiling face filled the right quarter of the page. Roxy had gone diving all right, and thanks to ancestry.com and Puerto Rico’s civil registrations, Roxy had not only found out how Mom died but where.
I folded the paper back up, stuffing it in my back pocket.
“Where did you get this? You didn’t have it when we came on board, and you sure as hell didn’t have it before dinner.”
“Does it matter?” Roxy bit. “What does matter is you lied to me. You said there was nothing to tell. This”—she shook the paper—“This says there was an investigation and diver’s error took Mom. Mom didn’t do errors!”
Roxy turned on her heels, slamming the door shut behind her.
“You look enfermo, señor.” The second nodded toward a bucket by the door. “Not in my wheelhouse, por favor.”
I pulled open the door, breathing in the rich salted air as I stepped into the inky night. In all my years on the ocean, I’d never been seasick.
Not even a hint.
I leaned against the door and let the air whip around me, pull my hair, and beat against my skin like I knew my sister wanted to. I started down the stairs, not ready to face Roxy, but at least she knew. I just didn’t know if she’d forgive me.
She wasn’t in her stateroom, and given the drop-dead-asshole look her two besties gave me, I could count myself lucky I still had that option to father children in the future. Luckily, Amy still had a soft spot for me and told me where I could find Roxy.
In the cargo hold.
Just like when she was a kid trying to stowaway on one of Mom’s dives.
I clicked on the light and shimmied into the small space next to Rox. She’d already found the chocolate chips. I hoped Luca could alter his plans.
I stuck out my hand and waited. This was how all our truce talks started. Someone was eating. Someone was pouting. And somehow, some way, we’d always leave better than we came.
It didn’t take long for Roxy to give in and come to the bargaining table. She poured two chocolate chips in my hand, which meant she was still pretty damn pissed.
“Fine.” I popped a chip in my mouth. “Wanna tell me how you and your giggling girlies swung an extra four days on a ninety-eight foot Hargrave with a chef and crew of three?”
Roxy screwed up her lip before she gave in. “You wanna tell me why you lied to me and said Mom died in the middle of the Atlantic? Why the report said Mom was wrong?”
My shoulders deflated under the weight of her words. It sounded so much worse from her lips, with her voice.
“I screwed up.”
“Nope.” Roxy poured a handful of chocolate into her hands. “You’re gonna have to do better than that. A screw up is giving your brother the wrong city. This…” Her voice cracked. “This was our mother. I had a right—”
“I know.”
She shot me a sideways glance.
“I know.”
Her eyes softened, and the bargaining table was gone—all would be forgiven. It was that easy with Roxy and me.
“What happened?”
I scrubbed my palms down my face. “You won’t believe me.”
Roxy took my hand, poured the chocolate chips in my palm until the bag was empty and the contents were on the floor. My eyes stung at the simple gesture. She was all in. No matter what I told her, she was all in. I pulled in a deep breath and picked the scab that never seemed to heal, only seep with hurt and regret.
“It all started with a lie. Mom wanted me to come home for spring break. I knew what she wanted. I could hear it in her voice. She’d found another clue to Atlantis. After I pulled the onyx piece with the compass rose from the ocean floor, it was like—”
“I know.” Roxy cut me off. She’d watched from the outside when we first celebrated and then listened after the fights when I refused to dive with Mom. Roxy’d been there through the good, the bad, and the dead.
She cleared her throat. “I overheard Mom booking the flight to Florida. You know how she got when she was good and pissed.”
“Loud.”
“Really loud.” Roxy snorted. “So she found you, boxed your ears, and shoved you in wetsuit. I kind of figured out all of that. What I can’t figure out, what I need to know, is what happened under the water, Rick.” She grabbed a chocolate chip from my hand. “You two are—were—the best divers I knew. Now you won’t touch the water, and Mom…” She shook off the last words. “What happened?”
“It was a normal dive. Mom’s research assistant uncovered a passage in an original photocopy of Critias that supported her theory that the Bahamas were a ruse. Through the shifting of the sea floor and the tectonic plates, the island entrance wasn’t the Bahamas; it was Puerto Rico. Vieques to be exact.”
Roxy hugged her knees to her chest like she had when she was a kid and we were telling her the adventures of our dives. Because of her severe asthma, Roxy could only listen; she could never see what we saw. She was limited to see the ocean with only the air she could hold in her lungs. Which didn’t really stop her. She became a wicked free diver, but still, the underwater adventures, the deep sea dives, those were things only Mom and I could share.
“Puerto Rico’s bioluminescent bays are the markers.” Roxy pieced together. “All this time, everyone’s been looking in the wrong place.”
“Everyone but Mom.”
Roxy’s eyes took on the familiar sparkle Mom’s held when she sniffed the star
t of adventure. “Rick, you have to tell NUMA.”
“I’m not telling anyone. And you’re not touching a toe in those waters, you hear me.”
“Keep going.” Roxy pushed. “And stop squishing the chocolates.”
I relaxed my hand, not realizing they’d balled up into fists. “We got to Vieques at twilight. Mom couldn’t wait until the morning. She wanted to get one scouting dive in. It was supposed to be a simple dive.” I took Roxy’s hand, dumped the softened chocolates into hers, and reached behind me for the box of napkins—all cargo holds seemed to be stocked the same way.
“Rick.”
“It was just the two of us. We slipped into the water, and not more than five minutes later, we were…” I couldn’t say it. Even after all this time, what I saw. None of it made sense. Not unless I believed in fairytales and folklore.
Which I didn’t.
But still. It was only those things that could explain what I saw.
“Rick,” Roxy whispered. Abandoning the chocolates, she took my hand in hers, a lifeline to that moment and not what I was reliving. “Tell me.”
I closed my eyes, letting the nightmare float up from the cave I’d buried it in. “The sun was barely cutting through the surface, so it was already dark down below. Mom pointed to the entrance of a cave not far from Mosquito Bay. We swam down. The farther we went, the more stunning the bioluminescent effect was. The blue glowing water was completely mesmerizing. Mom was so giddy she was swimming in circles. I could practically hear her squealing.”
A pained smile broke across Roxy’s face, but I pushed on.
“Then … Rox, we were attacked.”
“Sharks? That’s the only thing that could make Mom forget all her training.”
I shook my head.
“Then what?”
“You’re going to think I’m crazy.”
“I would never.”
“Rox. It was mermaids.”
Just like I’d suspected, my little sister’s eyes flared and next came the disbelieving chuckles. And when I didn’t react, the realization that I wasn’t joking chased all the laughter from her face.
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