Chasing Daylight

by Carey Heywood

  It’s another thirty minutes before we finally reach his aunt’s house. It’s a cheery three-story coral painted house.

  “Mermaid’s Retreat,” I say, reading the name from the sign mounted over the entrance to the carport.

  There’s a whimsical mermaid flipping her tail painted beneath the words. We leave our bags in the car and with Zeus make our way up the stairs to the main entrance on the second story. The handle to the front door has a keypad. Mitch opens it using the code Cathy gave us. There are three bedrooms, two bathrooms, and a family style room with a pool table on the second story. Two of the rooms face the backyard, and share a deck overlooking the back patio complete with hot tub and kidney shaped pool.

  Each room is decorated with a beach style theme of shells, ships, or dolphins. The family room continues this with different colored surfboards mounted to each wall. Upstairs, there’s a large open style living and dining room, and the master bedroom.

  Decks are off both the front and back of the house on this floor. The deck from the living room has stairs connecting to the deck from the second floor and then goes to the backyard patio and pool. Steps lead up from it as well to a roof top deck complete with a built-in wraparound bench to sit and enjoy the ocean view.

  The house doesn’t sit directly on the beach; it’s two rows back. The upper deck and the deck off the living room afford the best views.

  “This is amazing,” I breathe, salt air filling my lungs.

  Mitch stands behind me, wraps his arms around my waist, and bends to rest his chin on my shoulder. I don’t need to hear him say the words to understand that he agrees with me. We stand together and watch the distant waves roll in and out. Today is a good day, with gentle winds and blue skies. With Mitch at my back, I’m certain though, should the weather change to howling winds and clouds as dark as night, together we’ll be all right.

  I text Rachel to tell her we made it safely and that the house is awesome. She immediately replies requesting pics. I snap a couple to get her off my back with the promise of more to come.

  While Mitch brings our bags in from the Jeep, I work on a list for the grocery store. We decide not to shop for the entire week in one go, but that I’ll pick up enough stuff to get us through a couple of days. Mitch gives me money, which I try to refuse but finally take with the plan of splitting the cost with him and sneaking whatever is leftover back into his wallet when he isn’t looking.

  As expected, the grocery store is a madhouse. Still, I manage to shop quickly and am back to the house before long. I laugh when Mitch starts down the stairs the moment I pull back into the carport.

  “Were you watching for me?” I tease, opening my door.

  He shrugs, pausing to kiss me before going to open the back hatch. Surprisingly, I’m allowed to help carry in the groceries, probably because the bags aren’t heavy. Once everything is put away, we decide to go for a walk on the beach.

  Mitch switches prosthetics. I’ve never seen this one before now. It’s more basic in appearance to his everyday leg. He lifts it before pulling his track pants down to cover it and points out the drain holes. The foot of this leg more closely resembles an actual foot with toes that allow him to wear flip-flops.

  “Can you walk barefoot on the beach?”

  He nods, “I’ll need to use the outdoor shower to get all of the sand off and probably give it another good rinse inside.”

  I point to his pants. “Are you cool with those getting wet?”

  He nods. Someday I hope he’ll be comfortable enough to wear shorts in public; but for now, as long as he doesn’t mind, neither will I.

  He completes his look with a white tee, stretched snug across his chest, his beat up baseball hat and aviators. I’m wearing cut off jean shorts, a tank top, and a pair of flip-flops. I grab my sunglasses, a hat, and slip my cell into my back pocket before we leave.

  We’re three houses in from one of the main roads. We walk that way to the beach, finding a wooden walkway to give us access over the dunes. It’s later in the day and more people are leaving the beach then headed to it. Some of the kids stop to pet Zeus as we pass. I trade smiles with each group of people we pass, glancing back once to see Mitch’s reaction. He avoids their eyes, looking down.

  For someone so big to be as nervous as he is around strangers still surprises me. It surprises me even more that I was the one to make it through his shields somehow.

  We leave our flip-flops at the base of the stairs and cross the beach toward the ocean. The sunbaked sand burns the bottom of my feet as we cross it. I sigh in relief the moment my feet hit wet sand. We turn left and head north along the shore. Zeus walks in front of us; and since I’m wearing shorts, I walk on the side closer to the water.

  “There’s a beach further up you can drive on.”

  “Why drive when we can walk?”

  “You have a better chance of seeing the wild horses up there.”

  I stop dead and he pauses to look down at me. “Did you say wild horses?”

  He laughs at my expression, tugging on my hand to get me moving again. “Yep.”

  “Can we drive there tomorrow?” I ask.

  “Sure.”

  Given the afternoon heat, we don’t walk far and turn around to head back to the house. Once we’re back, we both change into our suits so we can cool off in the pool. Mitch is faster than I am and already in the water by the time, I have my bikini on. I stop in the kitchen to get some ice and a bag of chips for both of us to snack on. A wet Zeus is lying in the shade when I walk down the stairs to the patio.

  I set the drinks and chips on a table. “Should I grab his water dish?”

  Mitch is standing in the shallow end and points to my right. I see he already has some water for Zeus. I do a mental checklist, water for Zeus—check, drinks and a snack for us—check, towels–check, and super-hot man—double check.

  I take a moment to enjoy the view. Mitch is seriously hot just existing; all shirtless and wet takes him to a level of hot that has not previously been discovered. It’s like when they find a new species of tree frog in the rainforest. I should probably alert the media.

  I decide against that and join him in the water instead. The water is refreshing without being too cold to enjoy. The stairs I take as I wade in are behind Mitch. He turns, leaning back against the pool wall with his elbows propped up on the side to watch me.

  He leaves the wall and moves to meet me halfway. Sinking into the water, he lowers himself so I can easily wrap my legs around his waist as his arms band around me. We kiss, long and hard. He turns and backs up until he’s sitting with my legs straddling him. There are houses all around us with decks that can easily get a glimpse of our pool, so we don’t do anything more than kiss.

  I may grind against him as well, but figure that doesn’t count, since no one should be able to see because we’re both in the water up to our chests. When we both get too hot and bothered from making out, we hurry inside and end up going at it on the floor of the seashell bedroom on the second floor.

  The floor isn’t comfortable, so we don’t cuddle long. We both head upstairs to clean up and change. We take a quick shower together and Mitch gets out first. After I get out, I notice he’s carrying his beach leg, as I’m calling it, to the bathroom. He already has his other leg on and I watch through the door as he rinses it and then sets it in the tub to dry.

  He heads into the kitchen to start dinner while I get dressed. Zeus is already munching away at his dish when I walk in.

  “Can I help?”

  He shakes his head. “Nope, want a beer?”

  I nod but move past him and to the fridge to get one myself. He already has one open, sitting on the counter by the stovetop. I take mine, move behind him to the kitchen island, and jump to sit on it, so I can keep him company while he cooks. He takes my beer from me and twists off the top for me before passing it back.

  He takes another look at the food before coming to stand between my legs. We don’t kiss, he quie
tly holds me. He’s making up for earlier when we didn’t linger in each other’s arms after we made love on the floor. Sure it may have been a fast, no holds barred, fuck on the floor; but from this point on, I’m considering any time we’re together, we’re making love because I am not falling anymore. I love him.

  When he’s done cooking, we eat at the table on the third floor deck. After that, we go to bed early, tired from the drive and our earlier activities. We don’t go right to sleep; instead, we slowly kiss and explore each other. There’s no reason to rush, we don’t need to do anything else. We have all night.

  When we finally do fall asleep, it’s naked and sated in each other’s arms. It’s a bummer we need the AC; the only thing that would make this night more perfect would be to hear the waves crash against the shore. I snuggle closer to Mitch and decide the ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum of his heart is all I need.

  My shoulder aches as I jerk awake. Our room is dark. I press one hand to my shoulder and pat the bed next to me to look for Mitch. Zeus whines from Mitch’s side of the bed; but I don’t know where he is. I switch on the light on my bedside table. My shoulder hurts so I continue to rub it, pausing to pull the shirt Mitch wore earlier over my head.

  “Mitch?”

  I hold my shoulder and walk around the bed, freezing when I see Mitch. He’s on the floor, gasping for air, his naked body curled into a fetal position as Zeus whines and licks his face.

  I drop to my knees beside them and run my hand over Mitch’s back. I have no idea how long it takes for Mitch to stop shaking and lift his head to look at Zeus and me with blinking eyes.

  “Are you okay?”

  He sits up. “What happened?”

  I shake my head. “I’m not sure.”

  Distractedly, I rub at my shoulder again.

  “What happened to your shoulder?”

  I drop my hand.

  His hands fist and Zeus moves closer to him. “Did I hit you?”

  I ignore his question and his back-away body language, and crawl into his lap, burying my face in his neck.

  Loosely, his arms circle me, and he asks again, “McKenzie, did I hurt your shoulder?”

  She’s avoiding my question. Holding her in my arms has somehow managed to ease the terror that surrounded me. Now, only a disturbing confusion remains.

  I’m not immune to panic attacks. I have been able to control them to the point they no longer rule my life though.

  I haven’t had one this intense in years. I don’t remember much of the night the mortar hit my trailer. I was asleep when it happened. I remember the pain and the fear of not knowing what was going on. I remember trying to get up but I was trapped under something so I couldn’t move.

  I lost consciousness before anything else happened. Those moments I was awake are the stuff of nightmares though. Nightmares I haven’t relived in a long time. Tonight I was back there, trapped, in pain, and disoriented. The mind is a curious fucker sometimes. God, thousands of miles away, years later, I could smell the disaster that mortar wrought.

  Part of the reason I still have issues sleeping is because I can’t get past the fear something bad will happen while I’m sleeping and I won’t be ready for it. The fact I was out of it still messes with me to this day. I don’t like taking medicine because of it.

  “Are you okay?” She asks.

  I hold her closer. “I think so.”

  The smell of sex lingers around her and I fight against the desire to lose myself in her again.

  “Was it a panic attack?”

  I inhale her, letting her scent consume my thoughts so there isn’t any room inside my mind for my fears. “Most likely, yes.”

  She kisses my neck. “Is there anything I can do?”

  I pull back and push her hair back from her face so I’m looking into her eyes. “You’re doing it.”

  “Good,” she says, pressing her lips to mine.

  I gulp and run my hand over her shoulder. “Don’t lie, did I hurt you?”

  She holds my gaze. “It hurt when I woke up. I honestly don’t know what happened.”

  My guess is I freaked, and hit her before falling out of bed.

  “I don’t know what happened either, but this one was bad,” I admit.

  Her eyebrows lift up. “So this wasn’t normal?”

  I shake my head. “Now a days, the moment I start getting tense I wake up. It takes a while; but after I calm down, I can fall back asleep. I didn’t wake up this time.”

  She glances around the room. “Do you think it could be sleeping in a different place?”

  I shrug. “No clue.”

  I pet Zeus and kiss the top of his head. He stares at me until turning and going back to his bed.

  McKenzie stands, holding out her hand to help me up and we both climb back into bed.

  She settles against me, her head on my shoulder. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  I lift my hand to stroke her hair. “No, maybe tomorrow. It’s late, you should sleep.”

  “I don’t mind staying up. We can sleep in tomorrow.”

  “I need to process it some more first.”

  She kisses my neck. “I’m here for you.”

  I squeeze her, listen to her breathe until the sound changes, and she’s asleep. I’m too freaked to chance sleep for myself again. Instead, I try to figure out what was different. Not only that but why wasn’t Zeus able to wake me?

  The sun has risen before I manage to relax enough to sleep again.

  I wake to McKenzie leaning over me, shaking me.

  “What?”

  She rests her hands on my chest, breathing heavy, her eyes wide. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Zeus on my other side, both of his front paws up on the bed looking at me.

  “What’s going on?”

  McKenzie gulps. “It was happening again, an attack. Zeus woke me this time when he tried to wake you; and when I saw what he was doing, I helped.”

  She sits back and I sit up. “Shit. McKenzie, you can’t do that. What if I accidentally hit you or something?”

  She bites her lip. “I didn’t even think.”

  I tug her to me with one hand and set my other palm on top of Zeus’ head.

  Shit. A second attack where Zeus couldn’t wake me.

  “I have no idea why this is happening.”

  She cups my cheek in her hand. “We’ll figure this out.”

  “How? And, what if I hurt you again?”

  “Don’t do that,” she orders, “don’t give up.”

  I fall back against my pillow taking her with me to our sides. Pressing my face into her neck, I try not to let the helplessness overwhelm me. Currently, I can do nothing to control this situation. That’s about as far out of my comfort zone as I’ve ever been.

  “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  Her hands frame my face, lifting it so I can’t avoid her eyes. “I trust you.”

  “Why? Why do you trust me?”

  “You would never purposefully hurt me.”

  I can’t argue that so I don’t, but point out. “I don’t know why this is happening. I think I hit your shoulder last night and I could have hurt you again just now.”

  “But you didn’t,” she snaps.

  “McKenzie, the idea of hurting you”—I pound my chest with my fist—“kills me.”

  “We’ve slept together without issue in your bed plenty of times; what if it’s being somewhere unfamiliar?”

  “But, Alec and Rachel’s place was unfamiliar too and nothing happened there.”

  “You had a lot going on and were still struggling with pain.”

  It hits me then what Alec and Rachel’s place has in common with my own.

  I gulp. “Both were underground.”

  She squints at me. “Their place isn’t underground.”

  I nod, lifting my hand to drag over my face. “The basement is.”

  Her mouth forms an ‘o’ before she responds. “Was that on purpose, your place at the apartment complex being
in the basement?”

  I shrug. Rationally, I know being underground won’t protect me from a mortar round. Psychologically, I feel safer underground. My Aunt Cathy had offered me any apartment with free rent when I took the job. I took it upon myself to convert the basement into my apartment.

  She didn’t argue because it left an extra apartment open to collect rent on, and she was too happy I took the job to care that I wanted to live in the basement. It’s been years; but I hadn’t noticed I still relied on that crutch. I cup McKenzie’s face, knowing that I will never be able to give her the life she deserves.

  “I don’t know what is going through that mind of yours, Mitch Brooks; but I can tell I don’t like it,” she whispers.

  “You deserve so much more than what I can give you,” I admit.

  She sits up, pushing my hand off her face and glares down at me. “Oh, no you don’t. You don’t get to decide what I deserve. I do.”

  I sit up with her, resigned to the fact that I’m going to lose her. “Be rational.”

  “I am,” she huffs. “I deserve a man who I can trust,” she counts off on her fingers. “A man who wouldn’t hurt me, a man who can turn me on with a look, a man who will protect me, and a man I respect. And, let me be clear on this, I don’t care if I need to sleep in a basement for the rest of my life to get it.”

  Her words are thick with emotion, her eyes wet with tears. The ache in my chest is ten times more painful than anything I’ve experienced before knowing I made her like that.

  I swallow the lump in my throat. “The rest of your life?”

  She nods, one tear spilling down her cheek and I pull her into my arms. “God, I love you.”

  Her face is in my neck. “I love you too.”

  There’s a question neither of us brings up during breakfast, or on our walk down the beach, or at lunch. After lunch, we lounge by the pool. She adjusts her bikini and I’m distracted briefly, by how stunning she is. I could easily get lost in her. We’re both holding onto daylight like it will last forever. We’re both willfully ignoring what the night might bring.

  We can’t risk another night like the last one, so I finally ask, “Should we stay here tonight?”