Lovers Catch

by Dani Stowe

  LOVERS CATCH

  First Book

  of

  THE SEA MEN

  by

  DANI STOWE

  DaniStowe.com

  The Sea Men, Spotify Playlist

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  Edited by Kim Burger

  WARNING: THIS BOOK contains material that may not be suitable for all readers due to its sexual content, graphic imagery, and some violence. It has been formatted to fit mature minds.

  All rights reserved © 2017 by Dani Stowe. This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, actual events or locales is purely coincidental.

  This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner without the express written permission of the author. This e-book may also not be re-sold, transferred, or given to other people without written permission of the author.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Chapter 1

  Shelley

  Chapter 2

  Shelley

  Chapter 3

  Blue

  Chapter 4

  Shelley

  Chapter 5

  Shelley

  Chapter 6

  Blue

  Chapter 7

  Shelley

  Chapter 8

  Blue

  Chapter 9

  Shelley

  Chapter 10

  Blue

  Chapter 11

  Blue

  Chapter 12

  Shelley

  Chapter 13

  Blue

  Chapter 14

  Shelley

  Chapter 15

  Blue

  Chapter 16

  Shelley

  Chapter 17

  Shelley

  Chapter 18

  Henry

  Chapter 19

  Shelley

  Chapter 20

  Henry

  ABOUT DANI

  FOLLOW ME

  MORE BOOKS & SERIES:

  Chapter 1

  Shelley

  THERE’S A CHILL IN the air. It’s not completely unusual for this time of year, but the wind is making this experience much more uncomfortable than I could’ve anticipated.

  The sky is gray and I’m sure Aunt Cora is up there, above the clouds, waving her cosmic energy around making this thousand-foot climb up to the top of Lovers Peak more difficult than it should be.

  Not to mention, my backpack is heavy on my shoulders as I climb the peak to engage in another one of her silly ventures. Even in death, I can’t seem to escape the weight of Aunt Cora’s musings.

  I don’t know why I’m doing this. I feel guilty, I guess. I missed last year’s hike with her and then she had to go and die on me. The old lady wasn’t really even that old—sixty-five—and she left me without any other family, with the exception of the ones in her head and are now stuck in mine.

  Merpeople.

  For a psychic, Aunt Cora certainly knew how to mess with my head. She messed with everybody’s head. She insisted mermen were real and I’m not sure if I should feel fortunate or not for being the only one who ever believed her.

  Men with fishtails—ridiculous!

  I remember in high school how I wanted them to be real, to be true. I blurted about the possibility in defense of Aunt Cora when my classmates would say shit about my crazy aunt. That was a dumb move; I never had any friends back then.

  Now I’m twenty-four and instead of traveling to Europe with my best friend, I’m hiking up to Lovers Peak on the longest day of the year, which is not just the summer solstice, but the day Aunt Cora insists mermaids, or mermen, might reveal themselves in the bay below.

  I look beyond the edge of the sloping trail I’m traveling to the bay; it looks peaceful—no waves or signs of life. Unlike the small town beyond the mountain where I grew up, there’s no chaos out here, except for the chilly wind blowing about me.

  I change my mind; this is not usual weather for this time of year. The prickle of the nippy air gives me goosebumps and by this point of my hike, I should be sweating, from what I can remember.

  Looking up, I’ll have to use my hands to help me with the incline the rest of the way. I never liked this part of the hike. Aunt Cora used to laugh at me about it because I didn’t like to get my hands dirty. I still don’t, but she insisted I was an “earth child,” like my mother; it vexed Aunt Cora because she could never make sense of it.

  Earth, moon, sun, fire, wind, water—I can’t believe I used to buy into all that psychic mumbo-jumbo bullshit. And sex! Oh God, the woman could go on for hours preaching about the unification of sexual bodies and the magical elements they produced. I’m surprised I didn’t end up more messed up in the head than I am now.

  Seriously! Who talks to a five-year-old about sex?

  “We shouldn’t be ashamed of our sexuality or sex,” she used to say. “That’s how we are made because it’s how two lovers are most deeply connected.”

  Bullshit! I connected with a bunch of guys all through college and there was nothing deep about it other than the occasional big guy that could wedge himself too deep to the point it got painful, especially if I turned on my side with one leg over a shoulder.

  It’s all proof love is just a pain. I’ve never felt connected to anyone—not in the way Aunt Cora described and, truth be told, I wouldn’t want to connect or fall in love.

  Love is what killed my parents, although I’m not a hundred percent sure exactly how they died and no one in this rinky-dink northern coastal American town has any clue either.

  Aunt Cora had a few crazy ideas of her own, but she’s gone now, so I’d like to believe she told me stories to comfort me. “They died together,” she said. “One could not go without the other. They were connected and they chose to stay that way for all eternity.”

  Connected. What a bunch of crap. I could be wrong though as I feel my butt vibrate. I pull my phone from my back pocket to see who is trying to connect with me right now.

  “Hey, what’s up?” I ask.

  It’s Kumiko. She’s half Japanese and half Puerto Rican and always seems to be at odds with herself like she’s still trying to figure out her true identity. She blames her mixed heritage by saying there’s always an internal argument going on that makes her crazy, like when she complains rice should not come in so many variations—rolled in seaweed versus soaked in sofrito because it’s too hard to choose between the two. Kumiko says it’s like choosing between her parents, who are divorced. Personally, I’d choose both, but I realize Kumiko just likes to argue as her parents still do, too, despite the fact they don’t live together anymore.

  Yep, Kumiko is a firecracker, like me. Her long, silky, thick, black hair, which makes me jealous because she never has to fix it, never hides her prominent cheeks or the stark whites of her brown eyes that flare red whenever she’s angry. When she’s really abashed, you can see her entire body blush under her tan skin.

  But I’m white and I’m told my long, wavy, strawberry blonde hair of Celtic origin is what adds to my stubborn temperament. Aunt Cora used to say I had a little fire in me, which I got from my father, and it adds to my occasional sharp tongue. But stabbing people with the snap of nasty words and insults is rare. I owe Aunt Cora for that. Growing up I called her all kinds of nasty things: fat, ugly, a bitch, a demon. That last one she didn’t like at all, but each time, instead of spanking me, she’d throw water in my face. She claimed it was the only way she knew how to put out my fire.

  “How far are you up the trail?” Kumiko asks on the phone.

  I look up. “I’m almost near the top,” I say and halt to catch a breath so I ca
n speak.

  “When you reach the peak, don’t forget to flip a middle finger up to your Aunt Cora for me.”

  I laugh.

  “Don’t laugh!” Kumiko flares. “I’m sure the old racist bitch is expecting a little something from me, too.”

  “She wasn’t racist, Kumiko. She loved you. She just had a weird way of showing it.”

  “I have the only palm in the whole world your Aunt would not touch or read to tell me my future. And I bet I know another reason why. Do you want to know why Shelley?”

  I pause my legs to seat my butt on a boulder. “Why?” I ask, although I probably shouldn’t have led her on.

  “Because she knew I knew I’d be able to tell if she was a fraud! That’s why.”

  I’m afraid to tell Kumiko my aunt taught me to read people’s hands to tell them their fortunes; I wouldn’t read Kumiko either, even if my best friend begged or paid me as some people did for my aunt. I learned fairly quickly people didn’t pay Aunt Cora to learn their fate; they were really after reassurance or hope, which explains why my aunt typically lied. I’m sure Aunt Cora took one look at Kumiko and, without even reading her hands, put her in the hopeless category.

  A thunderous boom rattles my bones and I nearly drop the phone.

  “Holy crap!” shouts Kumiko as I adjust the phone to my ear. “What the hell was that?!”

  “Thunder.” I’m just as surprised as Kumiko. I did not see this coming at all. The weather forecast reported nothing but blue skies.

  “Girl, I told you-you should’ve skipped the hike up Lovers Peak and come to Europe with me. I’m not having a good time without you and now you’re going to die of electrocution by lightning.”

  “Thanks for the support, Kumiko. As if the thunder wasn’t scary enough while I’m by myself up here—”

  “So, get down!” Kumiko whines. “Get off the damn cliff before you fall then get on a plane and explore these dark and dirty streets of Europe with me.”

  “Let’s be honest,” I say as I look up towards the peak that is collecting gray clouds above it. “The only thing you’re looking for is foreign European men that might bind you to a dark and dirty hostel bed and screw you. And the only reason you want me there is to make sure they don’t murder you, like in that horror flick we watched.”

  I study the trail to the peak and there are only fifty or so more feet to go. The wind blows a single leaf across the rocks; it drifts all alone, like the way I feel right now.

  I shout, “And see what you did! I’m by myself and now I’m scaring myself!”

  “Oh. C'mon,” pleads Kumiko and I’m shaking my head as I look out towards the bay in hopes of calming my nerves. I see something flip out of the water as she continues, “Just because you’ve never tried a little S&M doesn’t mean you won’t like it.”

  “I’m not that kind of girl,” I mutter and stand up from the boulder to get a better look at the splash coming from the center of the bay below.

  Another boom of thunder crashes through my bones and echoes through the crescent of the rocky mountain surrounding the bay.

  “Get off the trail,” Kumiko says sternly and I see a creature of some sort wading in the water. I swear it looks as though it sees me, too.

  “But there’s something out there,” I tell her.

  “Something out where?! What are you talking about?” Kumiko sounds worried.

  I appreciate having at least one human being still left in this world that cares about me. “There’s something in the bay,” I say as I get up from the boulder and go off the trail into a clearing to get a better look.

  “Like what? A boat? I thought you said there are no fish in that bay?”

  “No, it’s like an animal of some sort. I can see it jumping in an arch in and out of the water.”

  “Like a dolphin? That’s cool, but I can hear the thunder cracking in the background and I can barely hear you through the wind blowing on your phone.”

  I pull my hair away from my eyes as the wind blows it into my face. “It’s not a dolphin. I can’t tell what it is, but it has a giant fishtail and what looks like arms. It’s very strange.”

  “So, it’s a fucking octopus!” snaps Kumiko. “Get off the fucking mountain, Shelley, before you get trapped up—”

  “Whoa!” I can’t help but yelp as I feel my foot slip out from under me and I land on my ass with one leg hanging over the cliff.

  “What the hell happened?” shouts Kumiko in my phone, but her voice is starting to break up.

  “I slipped,” I admittedly yell and squeeze the phone between my shoulder and ear to dust my hands. I see some dirt mixed with a smear of blood where I scratched my palms.

  “See!” Kumiko shouts as another blast of thunder rumbles through the clouds. “You need to get off that trail before it rains.”

  “You’re probably right,” I say as I slip my hands behind me to try to get up. I notice the creature is looking at me—right at me, from the center of the bay; it looks a lot more like a human than a creature. “Uh, Kumiko?”

  “You okay?” she says, as the connection on the phone line seems to be getting weaker.

  “There’s a man staring at me.”

  “Is he weird? Does he look like a serial killer?”

  “No,” I whisper. “It’s the thing in the water. I’m sure it’s a man and it’s...or he’s looking at me.”

  “From down in the bay?” Kumiko asks. “You’re not making any sense.”

  She’s right—I’m not making any sense. This doesn’t make sense. I know I saw a fishtail earlier in that same spot and now there’s a man, who’s not wearing a single thing over his torso, sticking halfway out of the water up to his waist.

  I watch him dive headfirst into the bay. As his bottom comes over the surface, I notice it looks smoothed over with glimmering blue-green scales and into what I swear looks like an enormous fishtail.

  “Holy shit, Kumiko!” I shout and try to grab my phone from my ear, but it slips and falls.

  I drop to my belly and quickly try to reach for my phone as I hear Kumiko’s voice shout my name, but all I can do is watch as my only connection slams into rocks and petrified branches before shattering into hundreds of pieces and finally hitting the water. My heart sinks, as my phone does, too, and I feel the cold sting of a wet raindrop fall onto the back of my thigh below my shorts.

  Fuck. I look up at the sky; it is now covered in a heavy, dark gray blanket of clouds.

  I’ve lost my phone and it’s going to rain.

  I look out to the bay below. It scares me to think what might be lurking within the cascade of deepening, dark blue waters. It scares me more to think my Aunt might’ve been telling the truth.

  Mermen? Nah. I’m sure it was a dolphin or other sea creature just as Kumiko said...but now I’m freaked out because I’m alone.

  The chill of the air gets colder as more drops of rain collide with my skin, hair, and clothing as I get up. I rub my arms, smearing the wet rain over the surface of my skin and curiosity gets the best of me so I scan the surface of the bay for any signs of life.

  Nothing.

  “Mermen,” I chuckle to myself as more rain begins to fall.

  Turning towards the trail, I look up towards the peak. “I’m not going to make this trip today, Aunt Cora,” I say aloud. Just as I take one step off the path, the clouds open the dams, letting rain flood over me and my path.

  Great.

  I start walking and realize I have no idea what Kumiko’s phone number is; her number was programmed into my phone. I start to panic. I also have no idea what my flight number is to get back home because that was programmed into my phone as well. I grab the shoulder pads of my backpack, knowing I still have my wallet and cash, although I’m sure it’s going to be as soaked as I am right now. But at least Aunt Cora is dry. I was right to put her ashes in an airtight urn. There’s no way I better lose thaaaaaa...!

  My leg slips out from under me again, but this time I go flying through the
air and land on my butt. Mud is all around me and I feel like my body is moving; I’m drifting slightly...no, I’m sliding.

  I grip my palms around a twig in the ground, but they sting from the scrapes I suffered earlier, so I let go. Slick mud starts to flow rapidly as the rain continues to fall. I begin to slide along the ground downhill in a mudslide...

  I can’t stop!

  I try grabbing onto a tree limb and then a rock, anything to slow me down because I’m picking up speed as I go down the side of the mountain like I’m on some splash roller coaster in an amusement park.

  Damn, it hurts!

  The sensation of every bumpy, jagged rock and splintery twig hits the inner flesh of my thighs or scraps against my shins, hipbones, and elbows. I feel useless against the rocky terrain that was once dusty and dry but has trapped me into a downward, spiraling landslip.

  I look ahead and see the edge of the mountain and the bay below. I recall how my phone crashed and crumbled into pieces before it finally sank into the bay and I wonder if I will experience the same fate.

  I try harder to grab onto the next tree limb, but it snaps. Reaching out to the next small boulder, my muddy hands slip right over it. Still sliding, I try to aim my body towards the next tree trunk, but mud splashes into my eyes and I miss the tree. I quickly wipe the mud away as I pick up more speed with the edge of the cliff just a few yards away. I quickly panic knowing gravity and velocity are pulling me faster and faster down the mountain.

  I finally accept there’s no way I’m going to win against these elements—gravity, the mountain, the mud, so there’s only one thing left to do—

  Scream!

  Suddenly, my whole body is hoisted into the air. My stomach wrenches up into my throat as the mountain throws me off its cliff.

  The mouth of the bay around me widens and I look down. Below, I see the dark water about to swallow me so I squeeze my eyes shut. Landing hard in the enormous cerulean pool that envelopes me, I immediately try to swim up to the surface, but I can’t, as my nose stings from the impact. I push the thought of pain out of my mind as I realize I’m sinking; my boots feel heavy and so does my backpack.