by Marni Mann
“Do you want to go in the water?” I ask him as I work the button on my shorts. If I’m doing this, I want to experience everything the beach has to offer. Sitting here, covered in sweat, isn’t how I saw this day going.
He watches every move I make, swallowing hard as I slide the denim away from my hips.
“You’re gonna have to give me a minute, Andi.”
His reaction gives me the confidence I need to stand up and kick my shorts off. But out here, under the bright sun, my entire past is on full display. Adrian’s eyes never linger on the scars. Not once does he get caught up on the mistakes. Chills race up and down my spine for the right reasons—reasons that have everything to do with Adrian’s appreciative perusal.
Here, on the blanket, I’m safe. But what’s going to happen when I start moving toward the water? Walking through rows of beachgoers to get there, what will they think when the scars pass them by? Will they feel sorry for me, or will they think Adrian put them there—not realizing he’s the one who saved me?
Not wanting either of us to be judged, I decide protecting Adrian is more important than seeing the ocean.
He sees my indecision, and before my hands can grab the shirt I just took off, he stops me.
“I tried,” I tell him, “but I can’t do it.”
When he stands beside me, I have to shield my eyes from the sun to find his. They’re my strength and comfort. The little piece of heaven that follows me wherever I go. Once I find them, I expect to see disappointment looking back at me, but there isn’t any.
“You’re beautiful, Andi. And I’m proud to be here with you. Stay with me.”
“Stay with me.”
Three powerful words he uses when I’m about to throw away all the progress I’ve made. When I’m about to give up on myself before I even try.
The ghosts of the past aren’t going to win today.
I won’t let them.
Adrian holds out his hand, and I take it. I’d follow him anywhere.
It’s been years since I’ve seen the ocean or felt the pull of the tides as the waves pound against the sand. The turquoise water is inviting, not at all like the dark and dingy water up north. In Miami, even the water is at peace.
Taking my time, the sand squishes between my toes. Once I get to the water, I let the waves crash against my thighs, feeling the little pieces of sand cling to my skin. When my feet sink far enough into the sand that I could fall over, I hold on to Adrian and free them from the suction. “I forgot how weird this feels.”
“The water holds all the power, Andi. It can destroy.”
The way he says it, I can tell he’s reminding himself of a life he loved and no longer has. As he stares at the spot where the clouds meet the ocean, far off in the distance, I realize he might miss swimming as much as I miss life before Brooks.
Together, we inch our way through the small waves until the water is high on my chest and just above his hips.
“I’m not the best swimmer, Adrian.”
He drops my hand and scoops me up in his arms, walking farther into the water until it’s deep enough that he’s not completely exposed. My grip on him tightens because, if he were to let go of me, there’d be no way I could touch the bottom and still keep my head above water.
“Relax. I’ve got you, Andi.”
Swallowing, I push aside my fear and put all my trust in him—again. “You’re probably not used to being around someone who’s afraid of the water.”
“You’d be surprised. Lots of people are scared of the water, even swimmers. But, when you look this good in a bikini, you should be in it every chance you get.”
I dangle my fingers in the water and roll my eyes. “You’re so full of it.”
“Hold your nose,” is all the warning I get before he dunks me under the surface, still making sure his hands never leave my body.
After I wipe the water from my eyes and spit out the salt that’s mixed with my saliva, I pry my lashes apart and glare at him. “What was that for?”
“For not believing me. You’re fucking hot. Don’t argue.”
“If you had one on, I’d think your Speedo was too tight.”
No longer cradling me, he positions me so that my legs are wrapped around his waist. Once we’re face-to-face, he licks a droplet off my cheek and smirks. “If I were smart enough to wear a Speedo, I’d be inside you right now.”
“If you were wearing a Speedo, I’d be laughing my ass off.”
“I’ve worn them thousands of times. Nobody ever laughed at me, Andi.” He takes my hand and shoves it down the front of his board shorts. A gasp escapes me when I feel how hard he is in the palm of my hand. “Nobody ever laughed at that.”
I’m not laughing either.
I groan when his fingers slip underneath the edge of my bottoms, teasing my clit so hard that the only thing I can do is hold on tighter and sink my teeth into his shoulder.
“Hold your nose.” Again, Adrian dunks me, but he goes with me this time, clearly needing to cool himself off before we go at it on a public beach.
This time, I don’t get mad, I accept the refreshing water. I might even need him to do it another time.
The water takes away the weight of the world and pushes against gravity—gravity that has been holding me in place like cement. All I want to do is fly away. Here, in the middle of the Atlantic, we’re two people who aren’t held back by anything. Karma doesn’t exist, and it’s not looking for either of us.
If it were up to me, I’d throw every penny we owned into a boat and live a life at sea. At least then, it’d be harder to track us down, and if someone did find us, we’d see them coming long before they got to us.
“You okay?” he asks as we float along.
Already, the lifeguard chair is drifting to the right. But I’m not ready to go back to dry land yet.
“I’m perfect.”
Only when the water turns my fingers into prunes does Adrian start walking toward the shore. When I can safely touch the bottom, he sets me down and holds on to my hand.
Somewhere along the way, he must step on a piece of coral or a broken shell, slicing his toe. Blood oozes from the wound, and I realize I have nothing to clean it with. Every step he takes, it’ll just get covered in more sand.
“Stay here. I have water in my bag. And I can get a bandage from the lifeguard.”
“Andi, I’m fine,” he says, like it’s no big deal he’s turning the water an angry shade of red. “I’ll get a Band-Aid and meet you on the blanket.”
All I can do is nod.
I won’t lie; seeing even a little bit of blood makes me think of the train. Suddenly, I hear twisting metal and screeching rails like I’m right back in the train car, flying around and my ribs getting crushed. Even if I don’t remember the entire accident, I remember those moments before it all went black. Those moments are what make me lightheaded.
The noise becomes louder, and no matter how hard I press my palms against my ears, I can’t make it go away. Before the earth tilts on its axis, I look around for something to help. About a hundred yards away, at the edge of the parking lot, a hot dog cart sits beside a bright yellow umbrella.
With a foggy head and splotchy vision, I grab a couple of dollars out of my bag and run for it, hoping the sugar from a soda will help keep me from passing out.
Maybe it’s the heat of the sun that I’m not used to, but the harder I try to run in the sand, the more I feel like I’m running against a current. My thighs burn, and my ankles ache like I’m wearing heels.
Three steps away from the cart, I can already taste the sweetness on my tongue.
Two steps away from the cart, and metal stops twisting.
The last step never happens.
I’m robbed of my final destination and in the arms of someone I can’t see, but I recognize the firm grip on my hips.
He promised he would make good on his word. I never should have doubted him.
At first, he casually walks with me dr
aped over his shoulder. By the time I start to fight against him, he starts running. In nothing but a skimpy bathing suit, I have no defenses. No voice and certainly no power to get my feet back on the ground.
To anyone we’re passing, we look like a playful couple trying to haul ass over hot asphalt. It looks like he’s being a gentleman and carrying the lady to safety.
Where I end up will be anything but safe.
It’s the beginning of darkness and an eternity from Adrian.
“Take one last look, Andi.”
Before I’m taken away for good, I get one final glimpse of the man I love. He’s frantically searching the beach for me. He doesn’t know which direction to look first or why all of my things are still sitting on the blanket like I’m coming back. He doesn’t know I’ve been taken or if he’ll ever see me again.
“Adrian,” tumbles out of me with a silent sob.
I struggle to keep my emotions in check because I know it’ll get a lot worse if I break down and cry.
Tossed inside the back of an empty van, I scramble to my knees before the doors slam shut, and then my freedom is taken away—again. With my palms pressed against the hot glass, I say good-bye to Miami and the life I was building with Adrian. Because, as soon as we start moving, I know in my heart I’ll never see him again.
I’ll never kiss his lips or fall asleep in his arms.
The next time I close my eyes, it’ll be the final time.
When I see Adrian, I’ll be high above the clouds, looking down on him from heaven.
Clay
I stand in the middle of our blanket on top of the sand and scan each of the girls walking by, hoping one of their faces is Andi’s. Maybe she didn’t hear me when I told her I would get the Band-Aid. Maybe she’s in the restroom. Maybe she needs a second alone and went for a walk.
But she’s gone.
It isn’t like her to just take off like this. She knows I worry about her. Hell, we worry about each other. Constantly. That’s why I brought her to the beach—to get her to relax a little, make her get outside her head, to enjoy each other in a different setting. It didn’t work. There are way too many people here, the crowd too thick and rowdy for her to relax. And then I cut my toe, and it seemed like the sight of my blood freaked her out.
Her past is full of blood.
I added more to it. I made things so much worse when I was only trying to make them better.
Tomorrow, I will find a place that’s quiet and intimate, and that’s where I’ll take her. Maybe the movies or a boat ride through the Everglades. A spot where she’ll feel safe, that will have her reclining into my arms instead of always looking over her shoulder.
I take a seat when I realize I’ve been pacing over the blanket and go to grab Andi’s bag to get my T-shirt. It should be right on top, as it was the last thing I put in the bag. But her wallet is on top, opened, and my T-shirt is underneath it. I take the wallet out, checking it over to make sure no one has stolen anything. Her license is on the side, visible through the plastic window, her credit cards are in their individual slots, and over forty dollars in cash is in the back. If someone moved it from the middle of the bag, they would have swiped the cash. That means Andi’s the one who set it on top.
Food’s the only thing she could have needed money for, and the hot dog cart by the parking lot is where she had to be spending it. I don’t see any other vendors around, so I’m sure that’s where she went. But buying a few dogs and some soda, even stopping at the restroom, wouldn’t take this long.
I’m getting really impatient.
When I’m sure at least twenty minutes have passed, I put on my flip-flops and head toward the hot dog cart.
What the hell was I thinking, bringing her here?
There are too many faces. Too many feet on the sand. Too much laughing and music. And there are way too many red bikinis. None of them belong to Andi; I make sure of that as I pass each one.
“Have you seen a girl about this high?” I ask the teenager working the hot dog cart, holding my hand up to my chest. It’s the place where the top of Andi’s head always rests when I hug her. “She has long brown hair, and she’s wearing a red bikini.”
“You mean, recently?”
“Within the last ten, maybe fifteen minutes.”
“Is she young?”
“My age,” I say.
He wipes some sweat off his forehead. “A couple of girls around my age but no one by that description. It’s been dead here all morning.”
Fuck.
I clench my hands together to stop them from shaking and rush to the lifeguard station. Two guys are standing on the deck, looking at the water.
“Hey,” I yell up to them, “are there other food carts besides the hot dog one by the parking lot?”
“There’s a gyro cart on the other side of the beach,” one of them answers.
“How far is that?”
“At least half a mile.”
She wouldn’t go that far.
That means only one thing…
Andi never made it to the hot dog cart.
I run back up the small bank of sand and cut the whole line of women who are waiting to get into the restroom.
“Andi!” I pause.
Nothing.
“Andi, are you in here?” I shout even louder this time. “Andi!”
“What does she look like?” some woman in line asks me.
I give her the same description I gave to the hot dog vendor.
“I haven’t seen her,” she says, “and I’ve been in this line for at least ten minutes.”
“Me neither, and I’ve been here even longer than that,” another woman says.
I rattle off some kind of response and rush back to the blanket. Andi isn’t there, and everything is just the way I left it. I dig inside her bag again and find my cell phone. The small screen shows twelve missed calls. All of them are from Russell.
A pain starts gnawing through my chest.
He wouldn’t have called unless it was an emergency. Twelve fucking times only reinforces every fear I have. Andi isn’t on this beach, and she hasn’t just disappeared.
She’s been taken.
I clutch the phone in my shaking hand and book it toward the parking lot. I need quiet. I need less people.
I need some goddamn answers.
“Russell—”
“I’ve been trying to reach you all morning,” he says, cutting me off. “Why haven’t you answered my calls?”
He sounds frantic, and it makes my heart ache even more. Sweat trickles down my chest. I have to shove my hand under the opposite armpit to stop it from punching the palm tree in front of me.
“Where is he?” I ask.
“Brooks is here. In Miami. About an hour ago, his cell phone pinged from a tower a few miles from your apartment.”
He isn’t just in Miami. He was at the beach. He was watching us. He was waiting.
And, now, he has my fucking girl.
“Give me your address,” I say. “I’m coming over.”
“What for?”
“I need your help to find her.”
“Find her? What are you talking about, Clay?”
I start jogging back across the sand, so I can get Andi’s bag. “He has her. She’s gone. She’s fucking gone, Russell!” I yell, but no one can hear me over the music and shouting.
“Jesus Christ,” he says. “I’ll text you the address. In the meantime, I’ll see what else I can find out.”
I pick up the blanket and toss her bag over my shoulder before rushing back toward the parking lot. “I’ll be over in a few minutes.”
“Be careful, Clay. I don’t know if he’s working alone or not. Someone could be following you right now.”
“I’ll be on the lookout.”
I hang up and call the taxi company, giving the dispatcher an address that’s a few blocks down from the beach. As I walk there, I keep looking over my shoulder. But I know I don’t need to. There isn’t an
yone following me, and there won’t be. Brooks is the type of guy who only works solo. Having a partner wouldn’t give him the same satisfaction. He wants all the control. If he’s going to kill me, he’ll do it when I come for Andi.
And, if he has been watching us together, he knows I will be coming for her.
I slide into the backseat of the cab and give the driver Russell’s address. I don’t know much about Russell. Shit, this is only the third time I’ve ever talked to him. I’m putting a hell of a lot of responsibility in his hands, but I don’t know whom else to turn to. And what makes it even worse is that time is working against us. Brooks will expect Andi to submit to all his demands. If she fights back, even a tiny bit, I know he’ll hurt her.
It takes everything I have not to yell at the cabbie and order him to drive faster. The traffic isn’t his fault, but my girl’s life is on the line, and these fucking cars in front of us aren’t moving.
I try to calm the thoughts in my head.
I can’t.
I can see his eyes as he takes in the sight of her.
His hands as he runs them over her body.
I can hear the abuse leave his mouth and fill her ears.
That’s my body he’s looking at, my skin, my ears.
My fist tightens, and I bang it against the back of the seat. I promised her Brooks wouldn’t find us. Promised her he wouldn’t ever touch her again. Promised her she had nothing to worry about.
So many fucking promises, and I’ve broken every one of them. Instead of keeping her safe, I led him directly to her.
And, now, he has her.
My girl.
The girl I’ve been falling in love with.
I look in Andi’s bag again, wondering if he took anything or if I missed something the last time I glanced inside. Her burner phone is still in there. I check the screen, and there aren’t any texts or missed calls. The rest of her bag holds her sunscreen, the outfit she wore to the beach, and a bottle of water. Something yellow at the very bottom catches my attention. It’s a small piece of paper folded in half. I open it, and only three words stare back at me.
SHE’S MINE NOW.
Andi
