Wrecked

by J. B. Salsbury

  The abrupt motion rocks the boat and I scream through the snorkel tube and try to steady it. Aden pops up just a few feet away.

  “Come on, freckles.”

  Yes, I can do this. I try sliding one foot into the water, but my weight tilts the kayak.

  “Just jump!”

  “Shut up!” It’s what I say, but what comes out is a jumbled mess of gibberish through the filter of the snorkel.

  I push up to a squat and look over the edge. You can do this, Sawyer. Celia would do it. She would push me off the side of this boat and laugh hysterically when I came up gasping for air.

  But these are things I’ll never get to do with my sister, and as much as I want to believe she’ll recover, the odds are unfairly against her. She’d give anything to be where I am, to be standing on the edge of something amazing and all I have to do to enjoy it is let go of my fear.

  With renewed strength I push to stand. I do it with so much force that it sends the kayak out from under me. I stumble backward and land ass first and gracelessly into the water.

  I kick and spew the sea from my mouth when two strong arms come around me.

  “That’s one way to do it.” He pushes my hair off the front of my mask and puts my snorkel in his mouth, blowing out all the water that shot into it. “Here.” He offers it back to me and I take it, making sure I can breathe through it before I nod. He pops his back in his mouth and waves for me to follow.

  My entire body revolts against this, my muscles protesting movement, but if I don’t duck my head under and follow, I’m stuck here treading water in the middle of the ocean. My heart races behind my ribs and I take a huge breath and submerge my face.

  It takes a second for my eyes to adjust to what I’m seeing. The ocean floor is all rock with cracks and gaps teeming with living things. Coral, seaweed, small colorful fish . . . it’s nothing like I thought. Not a vast forest of deep ravines and hidden caves where all sorts of God knows what can live. This isn’t like I’ve seen in any nature channel documentaries.

  If ocean spots had levels, like school, this would be snorkeling preschool. My chest warms when I think Aden chose to take me here because he knew I’d be nervous. That night when we swam off the cliffs I made my views about the deep blue sea pretty clear. Maybe because of that he brought me here.

  I meet up with him at a spot where he motions to a school of small silvery fish. He grabs my hand and together we kick around the calm cove. He points out things as we stumble upon them, all of it fascinating, and quickly I get lost in this undersea world. It’s quiet except for the kicking of our feet, and with the sun warming our backs and his hand warming my heart a contentedness washes over me. I’m not focused on lists, on all the reasons why spending any amount of time with someone I’ll never see again is a complete waste. All my worries and fears fall away until all that’s left is Aden and the view before me.

  He points out a cluster of lobster, a big silver fish with a yellow tail like the one we caught together. I’m happy to go along with the tour, nodding and discovering some of my own finds, which include a jellyfish that nearly scared the piss out of me. Aden calmed me and we floated along, watching as it drifted past us.

  He gives me a thumbs-up and pops his head above the water and I follow. “What do you think?”

  I don’t risk losing my snorkel and just yell through the tube, “This is amazing.”

  He pulls me close and presses a kiss to my jaw. “Knew you’d like it.” Popping his snorkel back in, he pulls me along with him and we explore a few reefs.

  I’m happily kicking along when I feel him stop swimming beside me. I search beneath him, expecting to see him point at the reason he’s stopped, a fish or maybe a sea turtle.

  He doesn’t. Tension fills the space between us and I’m about to pull my head out of the water and ask what’s going on when he shoves his finger down to point to a dark spot directly below us. I drop my head and—holy fuck!

  Leaving all my pride and strength behind, I scream.

  Loud and blaringly clear, I holler through my snorkel until I’m coughing and forced to spit it out.

  “Shark!” I spot the kayak in the distance and swim. No snorkel and my mask fogging up with the fear emanating from my body. I rip it off. No clue if Aden’s behind me, I kick and throw my arms forward, Michael Phelpsing myself through the water.

  I hear Aden call my name, but I’m helpless against the terror that drives me to safety. He could be getting ripped apart by the apex predator, and I’ll have to explain to his family that I wasn’t brave enough to save him, but oh well.

  Racing against death, I throw myself at the yellow banana, hurling one leg over and a piercing pain rips across my inner thigh.

  I scream again. I’d been bit and was going to die on this stupid fucking kayak. Scrambling into the vessel I’m breathing hard. My heart hammers behind my ribs. I’m gonna pass out. I grab my thigh. Look down at my legs.

  No blood.

  But I thought . . .?

  Then I hear his laughter.

  He’s laughing at me!

  “You’d pass the SERE course in a heartbeat with that evasion and escape.”

  He’s still laughing.

  I’m still trying to breathe. “I . . . almost died.” God, my heart feels like it will pound out of my chest.

  He hoists himself into the kayak with ease, and I cry out when the thing rocks a little because suddenly the faded old plastic feels like a steel plate standing between me and certain death. “It was only a leopard shark.”

  “Keyword being shark.”

  “It was two feet long, Cece. Hardly a threat.”

  “Shark. Teeth.” Still trying to breathe. “Threat.”

  “Right.” There’s humor in his voice. “You should’ve seen how threatening he was when you took off for the kayak like a drowning elephant. Scared the shit out of the poor fish.”

  “I did?”

  “You think you were more scared of him than he was of you? You screamed like a demon straight out of hell and thrashed all the way to the boat.” He’s really laughing now. “I think you cleared out the entire ocean floor.”

  “For your information . . .” I’m still catching my breath. “I hurt my thigh.”

  His big warm hands cup my thigh, fingers tempting me between my legs while his thumbs rub circles on the sore muscle. “You may’ve strained it throwing this leg into the kayak.”

  It’s a little sensitive, but not too bad, and the way his eyes dance up and down my bare leg is enough to make me forget.

  “Ever think of giving up your day job to become a trick rider in the rodeo?”

  Laughter bubbles up in my chest. It sounds a little maniacal in my own ears, but I think relief at surviving a near-death experience will do that to a person.

  “You good now?”

  “Yeah.”

  He pats my leg, then pulls up the anchor and I right myself from the wounded victim position. “I owe you a mask and snorkel.”

  “Nah, I have plenty. Besides, I like the fact that you’re leaving your mark here. Every time I come to spear fish and pass by your abandoned mask and snorkel laying down there I’ll remember the girl who got away.”

  My spine stiffens. The girl who got away. I know what he means, away from the shark. Or does he mean something more? I suppose it doesn’t matter. I’ll never really know.

  ADEN

  Damn, I haven’t laughed that hard in a long time. I almost couldn’t make it back to the kayak chasing after Celia as she pummeled the surface of the water. I’ve jumped from a B-12 into the ocean and it was a breeze compared to trying to chase after Celia while laughing my ass off.

  My muscles warm and relax with the exertion of rowing. It’s as if all those years in the army, training constantly, staying in peak physical condition, gave my body a taste of the good life and now that I’m not using it to its fullest potential on a daily basis it begs for a good workout.

  And fuck, but I feel good. Really good.<
br />
  When we’re together like this, she makes me feel like a hero again, like a soldier with a mission. Staring at her back through the thin fabric of her shirt, I can make out the clasp of her bikini top that’s come slightly undone probably due to her frantic fight for survival. One flick of my fingers and the top would drop right off her perfect breasts. If Jenkins, that cockblocking bastard, didn’t force his way onto my boat, I’d strip Celia bare the second we set foot back on deck.

  She’s silent, but I notice more relaxed and content than she was when I brought her out here. I’m sure the adrenaline fall combined with the sun and all the swimming is making her tired. What I wouldn’t give to have her curled up to my side, sleeping peacefully while we’re rocked to sleep by the ocean swells.

  But sleeping together is out of the question now.

  “Old man!” I maneuver the kayak right up to the back and steady it as best I can. “Go ahead and step out.”

  She rises up on shaky legs and I am the perv she accused me of being because I stare at her ass the entire time she hefts her tight little body onto the boat. My dick responds to her immediately so I force myself to think of Jenkins waiting up there, that foggy eye sure to be staring at me while he puffs his cigar and drinks all my damn beer.

  Thankfully, those thoughts do the job and curb the swelling in my short—

  “Aden!” Celia’s frantic calling of my name brings me to high alert.

  I scramble off the kayak, tie it to the boat, and race into the cabin where Celia is kneeling on the floor next to Jenkins. His face is pale . . . too pale.

  “Shit.” I drop down to my knees and check for a pulse. “Jenks, man, wake up.” He’s breathing, but it’s shallow.

  “Oh God, is he okay?” Her voice shakes with something bigger than fear.

  I wave her over. “Sit here. I’ll go radio the Coast Guard and get us moving.”

  Her eyebrows pinch together and tears gloss over her eyes, but she nods and pulls Jenks’s hand into her lap. “Okay.”

  “Stay low. This could get bumpy.” I race to the cockpit and fire up the prop while grabbing the radio. “Coast Guard, this is the Nauti Nancy off the Coronado Islands.” I flip the anchor windlass and take off before it’s fully up. “We’ve got a man unconscious, possible heart attack. He’s breathing, but he doesn’t look good. Coming in to south Islandia Marina. We need an ambulance. Over.”

  I look back to see the kayak floating in the distance, having become loose due to my quick takeoff. “Celia! Talk to me!”

  “He’s still out! He’s . . . breathing, but he won’t wake up!”

  “Okay, baby, you keep talking to him! Let him hear your voice!” The roar of the engine and waves makes it hard for me to hear what she says but the sweet murmur of her voice is constant over the time it takes us to pull into San Diego Bay.

  Ignoring the no wake buoys, I race to the marina, picking up a small harbor patrol boat flashing its lights for me to slow down. Too bad. He can give me a ticket once I’m finally back and Jenkins is on his way to the hospital.

  I’m forced to finally slow, but still skid like a downhill skier into the closest dock, shutting off the engine and tying it off. Waving down the paramedics that are pushing in through the gate I go in to see Celia’s put a pillow under his head and is still holding his hand in hers.

  Tears stream down her cheeks as she peers up at me. “He’s gonna be okay, right, Aden?”

  “Yeah.” I check his pulse again. It’s barely there. “He’ll be fine.”

  The stomping of feet enter into the cabin as the paramedics file onto the boat. “Go get dressed.”

  She seems stunned by my sending her away, but whatever happens next I don’t want her to be witness to. I’ve seen men fight for their lives on the battlefield while a medic goes to every possible length to save him. She doesn’t need to carry those images around with her for the rest of her life.

  Plus, the boat’s cabin is only big enough for a handful of people. They’ll need all the space they can get.

  “Can you tell us what happened?” one paramedic asks as he drops down to check Jenkins’s vitals.

  I face Celia, and she jerks at whatever she sees in my expression. “Go.”

  Quickly she darts to the bathroom and once she’s safe inside I explain to the paramedics how we found Jenkins. “No clue how long he was out for.”

  They fire off questions while working on getting him strapped to a stretcher. “We’re taking him to Scripps. If you could inform his family.”

  Family. As far as I know he doesn’t talk to his kids anymore. I’ll have to call Cal and see if he knows who to contact. “Will do.”

  They take him away and I snag my phone to make a quick call for two cabs before heading back to the bathroom to get Celia.

  I knock once. “He’s okay, they’re taking him to the hospital.”

  The click and then slide of the pocket door and she peers out. She’s removed her wet shirt and is standing in nothing but her bikini. My eyes zero in on the bruises of her upper arms and I cringe and drop my gaze to the floor. “I’m gonna leave the boat here and head down to the hospital.”

  “I’ll go with you.”

  “No.” I shove a couple twenty-dollar bills into her hand. “A cab is on the way. I’ll call if there’s any news.” I don’t wait for her to respond because I didn’t ask a question. Jenkins could be breathing his last breath and what I don’t need is a woman keeping me from him.

  “Are you sure you don’t want company?” Her timid voice comes from my back and I clench my fists to keep from grabbing her and shaking her.

  “If I did, I’d ask.”

  “Oh . . .” Her voice is so soft the pain is audible. “Okay.”

  I grab some clothes and stomp off to the bathroom to rinse off the salt water and dress. By the time I’m done I walk out and find Celia gone. All her things are gone as if I’d only imagined her being here.

  I pretend not to care; after all, she did what I asked. Storming through the kitchen, my eyes snag on a small piece of paper with girlie handwriting.

  Aden,

  I’m sorry about Jenkins. Call me if you need me.

  I’ll be here. Waiting.

  xx

  My fist closes around the paper to ball it up and toss it in the trash, but in the end I shove it in my pocket, meet my cab, and head to the hospital.

  Distractions are good when they’re pulling you from where you don’t want to be, not so good when they’re taking you from where you need to be most.

  SEVENTEEN

  SAWYER

  It’s been over twenty-four hours since the paramedics took Jenkins off Aden’s boat. As the sun sinks into the Pacific Ocean so does a little of the hope that I’ll ever hear from Aden again.

  I thought for sure he’d call last night. That he’d apologize for being so cold. That he’d blame it on his concern for Jenkins and then follow that up with an update to let me know the old man was doing better. That he’d suffered from some benign medical thing and would make a full recovery.

  I’ve waited for that call.

  It never came.

  The good news is I got a lot of work done at Celia’s place. I wrapped and packed fragile items and took a box to the local Goodwill. I’m still amazed at how little she held on to her past. I couldn’t find a single photo of anyone in our family, not even a keepsake like the first-place prize she won at the pie-eating contest when we were twelve. Everyone in town was amazed someone so small could eat so much. It was a crowning moment for Celia. I was proud to watch it all from the sidelines.

  Clearly our memories mean more to me than they do to her.

  I wrap the Mexican-style blanket tighter around my shoulders.

  Realistically I’ve got a few more days of packing and then I’ll be done.

  That’s all Aden has to do is ignore me for that little amount of time and sooner than he even realizes I’ll disappear from his life forever.

  A door to one of the cot
tages slams shut and it gets my attention. I turn and blanch when I see Brice headed my way. Trying my hardest to smile through the pain in my chest, I manage to slide my Celia mask into place.

  The fact that it’s getting easier and easier should worry me more than it does.

  “Hey, I saw you standing out here alone and thought I’d come keep you company.” His grin is a little shaky and he seems to lack the confidence he had the first night we met.

  “Yeah, I’m just soaking up the last few sunsets before I head back.” I’m a little surprised he’s keeping a good foot of space between us, maybe the inner Sawyer is showing through more than I thought and he’s decided Celia’s not his type.

  He stares ahead at the waves, then peeks over at me from the corner of his eye. “You and Sergeant Psycho, huh?”

  I jerk my gaze to his.

  “It’s no secret. I saw him leaving your place early in the morning.”

  “Oh . . .” I go back to staring out at the ocean, trying desperately to figure out how Celia would respond in this situation. It doesn’t take a genius to see that Brice isn’t unfazed by my . . . er. . . . Celia being with Aden, so what does that mean?

  “It’s cool, I mean, it’s not cool, but I understand. What we had wasn’t exclusive.” He sniffs, not like he’s sad, but more like he’s trying to act more unaffected than he is. “Just . . . be careful, okay?”

  “I don’t know what you mean. Aden and I are just fooling around.” I want to bite back the words as soon as they leave my mouth. Fooling around? What we have is so much more than that, or at least, it is to me.

  He shrugs, not looking completely convinced, but goes back to studying the ocean as silence stretches between us. After a couple of minutes, he blows out a breath. “If you’re here on the Fourth, we’ll all be down at the Breakers Bar celebrating. You bring Aden and maybe he’ll let me buy you a going-away drink.” His eyebrows are raised in a boyish way I think Celia would’ve fallen for instantly.

  “I’d like that, thank you.”

  He leans in and I tense, fearing he’s going to wipe all memories of Aden clean with one of his brain-scrambling kisses, but presses a soft kiss to my cheek instead. “I’ll see ya around.”