Find Me (Immersed Book 1)

by Francesca Riley

  His smile returned. “You’re very welcome.” Then his expression checked. “No more stories today, Skye.”

  “But…really?” Skye felt like an addictive substance was being withheld from reach. Watching Hunter’s face as he spoke was as fascinating to her as his words. “I still don’t know practically anything about you. Can’t you tell me more?”

  “Not right now.” As if compelled against his will, he turned his head sidelong. The receding tide line had drawn closer to where they sat. “We can meet again. Do you know the small island in the Bay? Got to spin this story out – give you a reason to find me again.” His grin was only half joking; she heard insecurity behind the jest.

  “I don’t need stories to want to find you, Hunter.”

  She heard his intake of breath and he looked away. When he met her eyes again, his smile was sad. “There’s another reason to spin this out: to put off the moment you flee from me.”

  She shook her head, although she wondered what possible horror could be enough to send her running from him. “You don’t get rid of me that easily.”

  “Getting rid of you is the absolute opposite of what I want,” he said softly, setting her insides fluttering. “To finish telling you everything right now, I would have to keep you with me, talk all night long to spill every deep and dark secret.”

  Skye caught her breath. “So…all night long, starting now?” Did she just offer to stay up all night with him? She blushed. Something flickered behind his eyes as he hesitated. But he shook his head.

  “No, Skye.”

  She ached at the look on his face, recognising the division between their worlds, and his hatred of his own. She tried to comfort him. “Hunter, I can’t imagine what it was like for you. What it is like for you. But, you survived! You’re alive! There’s got to be something good, something worth living for?”

  “Worth living for?” his gaze was intense. “Yes, there is that, now.”

  She felt suddenly shy. “I meant – out there,” she mumbled. “Remember, you said the water’s not so bad? So, maybe, the water’s not so bad?”

  He smiled, “The water’s not so bad, hmm?”

  “Sure.” she agreed weakly.

  His smile deepened, his eyes crinkling as if her clumsy attempt to comfort him had worked.

  She looked once more at the low surge washing past the rocks they perched on. The sinking tide was racing to reach them. She couldn’t bear for him to leave right now. They’d barely begun to talk. Maybe she could go just a bit further out with him so he could tell her more?

  She took a deep breath to steady it, and said as firmly as she could, “You can’t stay here. And you can’t go that way,” she tilted her head towards the shore, “but…there’s nothing to stop us both going that way,” she nodded towards open water. Her heart pounded.

  Hunter stared at her. “You would do that? You would come deeper with me?”

  It was lightly said, but something moved in the back of her mind. A whisper, enticing her… No, she couldn’t grasp it. She focused on the answer he was waiting for.

  She’d barely kept it together swimming for her life yesterday. Could she go deeper, even with him? He’d kept her safe, standing between her and danger so many times already. And the only danger in going deeper was her crazy mind. She fixed her eyes on his. “Yes,” she nodded, swallowing back the swell of panic filling her throat.

  “Hmmm,” he studied her appraisingly. “This compulsion of yours to get into the water, despite advice to the contrary?”

  “Yes?” she gulped.

  “I meant it when I said perhaps you need to get better with being in the water. Would you agree?”

  “I guess...”

  “Maybe we could start on that today?” He quirked an eyebrow, a smile curving his lips. “Swim, Skye?”

  She blinked at him. She’d been thinking along the lines of standing waist-deep, talking. “Swim? Now?”

  “Yes,” he grinned.

  “Shouldn’t we give it a bit more time?” she squeaked. “Like, psyche myself up?”

  “I don’t know what that is, so I’ll say no.” His expression was teasing as he stood, offering her his hand. “Swim with me?”

  “But…I don’t have a swimsuit!” She looked down at herself and remembered Morgan and Rowena. If she showed up wet again they were going to think she was certifiable.

  “You don’t need clothes in the water,” Hunter said mildly.

  “You mean take them off?” Her cheeks burned. “Like, skinny dip?”

  Hunter looked at her blankly. “Skinny dip?”

  Skye closed her eyes for a second. Did she really have to explain? He genuinely didn’t seem to get it. “I mean, swim…in the nude. You know: naked?” She felt as if her whole body was blushing.

  Hunter looked startled, shyly turning away a little. “No Skye, I didn’t mean that. Probably not a good idea.” He began to smile and looked at her again, “A fun idea. But not a good one.”

  Skye couldn’t help smiling back.

  “I thought – don’t you all wear swimsuits under your clothes these days?” Hunter clarified.

  It took Skye a second to make the connection: underwear as swimwear. She could see how he might think that, although she wondered with a pang how much opportunity he’d had to observe underwear worn as swimwear.

  “Uh, we don’t usually swim in those. But…I guess that could work.” She quickly tried to remember what she had on: cotton lycra boy-leg knickers and bra. Almost identical to Morgan’s loaned bikini in fact. It was mind over matter, she told herself, just perception. Just like being okay swimming in the sea.

  But when she looked at him again he was watching the horizon. Following his gaze, she saw that the day had changed. The cloud on the horizon had spread across the sky, turning the sea a choppy grey-green. She smelt rain on the wind. A hazy grey wall moved toward them as if the sea was absorbing the sky. A few early raindrops fell on her and she shivered.

  Observing it, he drew back. “You’re cold.” His voice was flat. “You need to go.”

  The openness between them had somehow been blown away by the cold breeze. She stood awkwardly, her legs stiff from sitting still for so long, and glanced at the tideline closing on them. When she looked back at him to say something, anything, to not let it end like this, he had already gone.

  21. Secrets

  Skye trudged back through the saddle and across the now deserted Bascath Beach. The rain followed her. By the time she neared the steps the loose dry sand was darkly pitted with raindrops, and her clothes were wet almost through. With Hunter’s face in her mind, and his incredible story still ringing through her head, the ordinariness of both her and her surroundings was painfully draining. Each step was like waking further from a dream, and finding reality more dull and empty than when she’d fallen asleep.

  The abrupt way they’d parted made her anxious. But she had to believe she would see him again. That he wanted her to, no matter how disparate their worlds were. And when she did, she’d make him see that letting her in wasn’t a mistake.

  Climbing the wet sandy steps, a few pieces of soggy but familiar paper pressing against them caught her eye – Bliss flyers! Scattered as she’d run. Guiltily she peeled them off the wet stone. Her mind had been so filled with Hunter she’d forgotten her mission for the Lauders. Remorse bit her.

  For once the Lauders had beaten her home. Completely unintentionally, the few wet flyers she clutched cemented their impression that she’d been distributing flyers for them the whole time. She managed a weak smile in response to their gratitude, unable to formulate any kind of answer that wouldn’t expose her as a selfish fraud. She couldn’t bear to spoil their obvious excitement over the imminent café opening.

  Although this was exactly what she’d hoped for – her time with Hunter flying under Morgan’s radar – Skye felt awful. She and Morgan had always been honest with each other. Did this count as a lie? It wouldn’t be the first time since she’d met Hu
nter. Was she in too deep?

  Grabbing a change of clothes, she ran the shower as hot as she could stand. Slinging her wet clothes in the hamper, she tried not to count how many times that made. At least this time the weather was to blame. Emerging from the bathroom, something flew at her. Reflexively she caught it: a pair of thick socks.

  “Get those on Skye-bear. I know you packed for summer.” Morgan called.

  Skye pulled them on, touched by kindness she felt she didn’t deserve. They were a little too big for her, but she felt cosier in them.

  “Fresh coffee in the kitchen, and slices from today too,” Morgan offered, before turning back to look out over the Bay, her shoulder against the frame of the closed ranch slider. Skye poured herself a cup from the nearly full carafe, savouring the hazelnut aroma arising from it. She added cream for comfort, and joined Morgan at the window.

  They looked out on a vanished landscape, a grey veil drawn across the vista. Wind tossed raindrops against the glass. Hunter was out there somewhere, wet, cold, isolated. He said he hated what he was. Did he hate being out there? Skye gripped her steaming mug, aching for him.

  The small island Hunter had mentioned was half-hidden by the sombre haze. Lithus Rock. For as long as Skye could remember, Lithus Rock had carried an almost sinister reputation in the village, and the inclination to avoid it was usually shared by visitors and locals alike.

  Her heart pattered in sudden recognition. He hadn’t called it that, but the ancient village name had to be a reference to his lost history, his fallen city, Lithus. Everything she had learned about him today hit her again like a wave. Her inhalation shuddered, goosebumps flashing painfully across her arms. The enormous impossible reality of it made her feel so brittle she might shatter. Silently she blew out a slow, calming breath, misting the glass.

  “Cheers,” Morgan held out her mug to Skye’s. “Here’s to tomorrow.” As their mugs clinked softly together, the warm drink in Skye’s hand and her friend’s smile were comfortingly grounding.

  “Speaking of tomorrow, what have you done to the weather, my friend?” Morgan mused, staring out at the dim scene. “Hope this has cleared by the opening. You and this place, girl: you’re like a sea-witch or something, bringing down your beloved mermaid weather on us in the middle of summer.”

  Mermaid weather. Skye stared at the churning waves barely visible at the edge of the distant ochre sand. Memories of shadowy forms half-glimpsed in storm-driven breakers when she was tiny took on new meaning. Was it possible that she’d been seeing…him? She closed her eyes against the intensely sharp, staggeringly sweet emotion sweeping through her as she pictured Hunter’s face, his desolate eyes, his sparkling grin. The thought that perhaps he’d been close by…

  Opening her eyes again, she fought to smooth her face into a neutral mask before she gave herself away. Morgan couldn’t know about this. Even if Skye could convince her she wasn’t imagining the whole thing, Morgan would she think she was insane, or in danger, or both. With the best motives in the world she would probably do her best to stop Skye from seeing Hunter again. She’d already tried that morning.

  But even if she had felt free to share about him, she needed to get to grips with Hunter herself. Hanging out with ‘impossible’ would take time for her to process, let alone discuss with anyone else.

  She glanced around to find Morgan watching her, her eyes narrowing a little. “What’s that look, Skye? If I didn’t know better, I’d say –” She broke off as a muffled chime came from her pocket.

  “Hold this?” she passed her mug to Skye and tugged her out mobile phone. She smiled as she read the screen. “Excellent,” she murmured, thumbs tapping out a lightning fast reply. “Totally left me hanging until practically the last minute, but well worth the wait.”

  “What is?” Skye hoped her relief at the reprieve didn’t sound too obvious.

  “Ethan’s brother’s band, Side On – they’re performing at our opening! This is awesome. I have to tell Mum.” She retrieved her mug absently from Skye, still tapping her phone with one hand as she turned away. Then she paused and turned back to Skye. “Guess this means Ethan will definitely be there,” She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. “Not that I think he was planning on missing it.” Her voice was loaded with implication, but it sounded forced.

  Skye rolled her eyes and stretched awkwardly to give Morgan a light kick with a woolly-socked toe. “Don’t be such a stirrer! Ethan would never miss this. He knows it’s important to you.”

  Morgan’s deliberately coy expression disappeared in a self-conscious look. “You think?” she asked.

  It was Skye’s turn to stare. “Absolutely. I mean, it sounded like he thought you should maybe finish school, but he gets this is what you want.”

  “Really?”

  “Sure. Don’t you think?”

  Morgan shrugged, her eyes dropping. “Whatever, right?” she replied airily. “It’s all about Bliss for me, anyway. Like you say, there are more things in life, etcetera,” she tossed out Skye’s old line from their many arguments about the dubious merits of romance.

  “Right,” Skye quickly agreed, “there is totally more to life…” She added the next three words silently: …than romantic love. Her worn out old sentiment. It felt hollow to her now. But Morgan had already turned away, calling out to Rowena with the news about the band.

  Rowena was delighted about the band’s confirmed appearance, but the obvious flyer changes required made her face drop. “Skye, what a shame you spent all that time delivering the flyers today! Side On could make all the difference for our opening turnout. Do you think you’ve got time to do a new one and get it ‘round? And all the painting you’ve done for us. I feel like I’ve completely shanghaied your holiday. You must hate this!”

  “‘Course not,” Skye insisted, “You guys are completely worth it.” She was pleased to see Rowena’s worry disappear, and thought guiltily of her unfinished flyer-delivery effort. The opening was almost here. She would do better with the new ones.

  Dinner was a review of the samples Morgan and Rowena had made that afternoon with the new cooker, a veritable banquet of savoury and sweet. They scrutinised Skye’s response to every bite she sampled and furiously noted her comments, conferring and scribbling and re-tasting each dish, chewing with eyes closed.

  Skye would have found it funny, but it seemed so chaotic and last minute that she began to feel a knot of nervous apprehension in her stomach on their behalf. They would be devastated if this failed. And Uncle Mike was involved too. She was more determined than ever to make her words of support true beyond just intentions.

  Ethan’s brother Kris emailed through their band logo. Side On was appearing for free at the Bliss opening in exchange for the opportunity to launch their demo CD. Their involvement had ramped up Morgan and Rowena’s nervous delight over the opening by more than a few notches.

  For Morgan and Rowena, the rest of the evening was a whirl of phone calls, endlessly checking lists and second-guessing themselves.

  For Skye, the night was wrapped in oppressive, anxious thoughts that swung from the Lauders and Bliss to Hunter. But they lingered on Hunter. Screwing up yet another botched draft flyer, she sighed and reached for a fresh sheet of paper, trying to force her fractured thoughts to focus only on black ink and white cartridge paper.

  The weight of Skye’s new knowledge about Hunter had completely exhausted her, and once in bed she slept deeply, without dreaming.

  The next morning they all woke early. With no restaurant shifts, Morgan and Rowena’s day was filled with business for the café. Skye had tasked herself with the flyer redistribution, although Rowena had mentioned that the bad weather was expected to continue.

  Over breakfast, Skye was amazed to realise that already what Hunter had shared about himself felt familiar to her. Her troubled struggle to process had receded to an agitated excitement. Maybe her lifelong addiction to fairy tales hadn’t been without purpose, after all? She was able to focus on her com
mitment to the Lauders better than she’d expected. With the opening just days away, she was determined to give it her best effort, and left the apartment on the Lauders’ heels.

  The rain had stopped and the low cloud had broken. Patchy sunlight dried the pavement as she walked to the village copy shop.

  “Same quantity as last time?” The proprietor repeated Skye’s request distractedly above the hum of busy machines. The shop smelled of hot paper and toner. “Can you leave it with us? We’ve got a big order tying up all the machines, and a couple of small jobs ahead of yours.”

  Skye hesitated. “I guess so...”

  “We’ll get it done,” he reassured. “Stop by before five?” An unhealthy sound from one of the copiers accompanied by flashing lights interrupted them, and he turned to the problem with a muffled exclamation.

  Skye left the shop and stood irresolute on the footpath. A whole day of canvassing the village, lost. There was the stencilling to sand back, but that wouldn’t take more than an hour, and the paint could really use a little more time to cure.

  And there was Hunter. He had left her so abruptly. Was his original belief that she should keep away from him back in play? No. She didn’t believe that. Whatever reasons he’d had to warn her away before, she was certain their connection wasn’t all in her own head – that just as she couldn’t stay away, he wouldn’t be able to either.

  He’d mentioned meeting at the small island. Lithus Rock. Her pulse quickened again at the possible link with his lost city. She could look for him there, and check the stencils before collecting the copies at the end of the day. There was time for it all. Decision made, she hurried back to the apartment and put her swimsuit on beneath her clothes. After packing a simple lunch, she descended to the street and made for the waterfront.

  In the uncertain weather, the beach was quiet. The tide was low, but not all the way out. Opposite Lithus Rock she stopped. A small stretch of water separated her from it. There was no sign of Hunter, but now that she knew about the waterline, the idea of waiting around on the sand seemed impractical. Or cruel.