A Stone in the Sea

by A. L. Jackson

  Terror.

  Spindles of fear splintered through me, vast and deep and wide.

  I scanned the water until my sight caught the little body tumbling in the receding wave off to Shea’s right.

  Out of reach.

  No.

  No.

  No.

  No.

  “No… No… No.” Suddenly, I was saying it aloud in the same second I was sprinting toward her. Water split under the pounding of my feet, splashing on my thighs, before it got too deep. I dove in, frantic as the salt hit my face, my arms burning with the force of my strokes.

  Another wave surged forward, and I propelled myself up and over it, sucking in a breath as I broke the surface, spinning around as I tried to find her.

  An arm.

  A glimpse of blue.

  Blonde awash in the turbulent churning of the sea.

  One desperate moment later, Kallie was in my arms and I was dragging her free and carrying her toward the beach.

  But there was nothing.

  No reaction.

  Five seconds of agony that felt like an eternity as I held Shea’s daughter in my arms.

  Then Kallie was coughing and crying and Shea was there, nearly delirious as she yanked at my arms to get to her while I held Kallie close and stumbled with her onto the shore.

  Gently, I laid her on the sand while my world spun. My spirit roared. My head screamed.

  Shea dropped to her knees.

  Frantically she ran her hands over her daughter’s face, trembling fingers through Kallie’s drenched hair, pushing it back.

  Shaking.

  Shaking.

  Shaking.

  She chanted, “She’s okay…she’s okay,” again and again and again as she touched her all over, reassuring herself.

  She’s okay.

  Lyrik was on his phone, his voice sounding just about as frantic as my mind. He shouted the address and told them to hurry. No doubt he had an ambulance on the way.

  “She’s okay,” Shea said again like the reality had finally taken hold, and she swallowed deep, pulling a crying Kallie into her arms. She was crying, too, as she hugged her and rocked her while she looked toward the sky, like she was sending up a prayer. “She’s okay.”

  Bile burned in my gut when I looked back at Austin. He was still nailed to the same spot. Fists full of hair that he tried to rip from his head. Eyes full of horror and memories and dread.

  She’s okay.

  She’s okay.

  He wasn’t okay.

  It felt like an hour passed, but it really was only a few minutes before three paramedics rounded the side of the house. They took the walkway down onto the beach, and I moved to stand beside Shea who refused to let Kallie go while they examined her.

  Lyrik, Ash, and Zee gathered behind me. The combined nerves and energy and a thick slick of shock ricocheted between us all.

  Austin had disappeared.

  “We need to take her in to have her checked out by a doctor and get an X-ray of her lungs to be sure they’re clear, but it looks like she was a very lucky girl.” One of the younger paramedics gave Shea a reassuring smile. “I think she’s going to be just fine.”

  “Oh my God, thank you.” She hugged Kallie closer, still in shock.

  “Why don’t you get dressed?” he urged. “We have to strap her to the stretcher to move her safely in the ambulance. Does that sound okay?”

  Reluctantly, Shea nodded and allowed Kallie to be lifted from her arms.

  “Come on, baby,” I whispered, helping her to her shaky feet. She seemed to be operating on autopilot as she pulled her clothes over her wet swimsuit while they strapped Kallie onto a little board.

  We followed them around to the front of the house, and Shea climbed into the back of the ambulance with Kallie, a blanket around her shoulders, her hair matted, tangled, and littered with sand.

  Tremors kept rolling through her and I knew my girl was coming apart.

  I gripped her by the face. “I’ll be right behind you,” I promised.

  She squeezed her eyes shut. “Okay.”

  I turned to the guys. “Watch my brother.” My voice was coarse and rough, filled with my own kind a creeping fear.

  “We’ve got him,” Lyrik promised with a shake of his head. “Go take care of your girls.”

  In the Suburban, I followed the ambulance, those twenty minutes it took to get to the hospital almost unbearable.

  They unloaded Kallie and took her straight to a curtained-off room. Shea held her on the bed, again refusing to let her go. Awkwardly, I stood at the side, doing my best to keep my cool while they messed with Kallie, checking her, prodding at her, the little girl’s face swimming with fear and alarm, but always obedient and respectful.

  All I wanted was to take it away. Make it better.

  Four hours later, they released Kallie.

  She’s okay.

  Shea picked her up and into her arms, frantically kissed the side of her head, the tremors that held her before still rocking through her body. “I’ve got you, Butterfly,” she whispered to Kallie who appeared almost as exhausted as her mother.

  I approached them, pulled both of them to me, and wrapped them in the whole of my arms. “Are you okay?”

  I didn’t really know who I was asking, but Shea nodded at my chest. “I just need to go home.”

  “Okay, let’s get you both out of here.”

  I wrapped an arm around Shea’s waist and began to steer them back through the corridors, discharge papers in my hand as I led them down the hall and out of the emergency room. The large sliding doors skated open to the early night.

  Lights flashed.

  Flash.

  Flash.

  Flash.

  I blinked against the surprise of it, and Shea yelped in mortified shock, cringing and burying her face in my chest while hugging Kallie closer to her.

  A crowd swarmed around us, and we were bombarded by a cacophony of shouted speculations as the fucking paparazzi stole picture after picture of us. “Sebastian Stone…there are reports there was a near drowning at the home you’re staying at nearby. Can you comment?”

  “Can you tell us who the child is who was involved?”

  “What is your relationship with the child’s mother?”

  “Does Hailey Marx know you’re here?”

  I covered the back of Kallie’s head with my hand, pressing both of them as close as I could get them.

  Guarding.

  Hiding.

  Protecting.

  Refusing to let one of the most traumatic days we’d ever experienced become their entertainment.

  “Stay away from us,” I warned.

  They shouldn’t be here, weren’t supposed to know where we were. This place was supposed be a sanctuary.

  I’d been right when I’d been tempted to give Jennings whatever he wanted and then turn and leave it all behind.

  My shit would just follow me back here anyway.

  There was no escape.

  Anger speared me, and I shoved through the mass, tossing off the assholes encroaching on our space, invading on our lives.

  “We don’t have anything to say,” I growled as they flocked. I wanted to spit as they followed us out to where my SUV was parked in the middle of the lot, a rapid-fire of questions shot at us from every direction.

  I rushed to get Shea and Kallie into the back seat, slamming the door shut when they were safely inside.

  When I turned, a microphone was thrust in my face. “Who was supposed to be watching the child when she nearly drowned?”

  Fury lit, and I surged forward, pushing back. The asshole fell back onto the ground. “I said no fucking comment.”

  I flung the driver’s door open and jumped inside. My heart was hammering so hard it felt like it was going to crack my ribs wide open. I pushed out a breath and gripped the steering wheel.

  Anger spiraling.

  Despair seeping.

  Through the rearview mirror, my
eyes darted to Shea and Kallie.

  Kallie was clinging to her mother’s neck, eyes round and scared, breaths choppy and panted. “Mommy,” she cried quietly, her fear and confusion heavy in the air.

  Tears streaked down Shea’s face, and she refused to meet my eye. “It’s okay, Butterfly. I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

  When Shea finally coaxed Kallie into her booster seat, I put the Suburban into gear.

  Part of me wanted to run all these assholes down, the lot of them scattering as I gunned it in reverse, then flung it into drive.

  Silence engulfed the cab as I wound around the city, taking a long, twisted route back to Shea’s house just in case any of those fuckers made the fatal mistake of trying to follow.

  This was the last thing I’d wanted. For my life to affect theirs.

  Not after today.

  Not after what Kallie had been through.

  Not after what Shea had been through.

  At just after seven, I pulled up in front of Shea’s house and parked at the curb. I went straight for the back passenger side door, pulled Kallie into my arms, and tucked Shea’s shivering body into my side.

  All our movements were slowed with the trauma of the day.

  April had made soup and grilled cheese sandwiches. Kallie inhaled everything, Shea barely touched hers, and I couldn’t stomach mine at all.

  Shea quietly led Kallie upstairs to give her a bath. Water ran somewhere above, and I paced her kitchen, wishing for a different life. Wondering again if it was worth the cost.

  April did the dishes and shot me glares that fluctuated between disgust, confusion, and gratefulness.

  “You’re back,” was all she said.

  “Yeah,” I returned, wishing I could claim it without wondering if it was for the best. Shea had been so eager to accept me for who I was, for what I did, but I didn’t think she had the first idea what that was truly going to be like.

  An hour passed of giving Shea the space I knew she needed before I couldn’t stand it any longer. Slowly I climbed the stairs. I found both of them in Shea’s big bed in their pajamas, Shea on her side and wrapped around Kallie, hair wet. No doubt she’d gotten into the bath with her because she couldn’t bear the idea of being separated from her.

  I stood there watching them in the shadows, Shea’s breaths heavy and shallow and pained, Kallie’s slowed as she escaped into blissful sleep.

  Edging around Shea’s bed, I cautiously crawled in bed behind her and tucked her into the well of my chest.

  I wondered if she’d come to her senses, realized I wasn’t worth this kind of burden, and push me away.

  She only pulled my arm tighter around her.

  My palm went over Kallie’s heart, feeling it beat, the steady rise and fall of her chest as she slept.

  My entire body stuttered out a sigh of relief, like the adrenaline that had twisted me tight finally seeped free.

  It was as if the same tremor I released rolled straight through Shea.

  Voice full of tears, Shea’s murmur filled the dark. “I had her, Sebastian. I had her.”

  I buried my nose in her hair. “I know, baby. I know. The wave was too strong.”

  She shook her head, like she was discounting what I’d said. “I can’t believe I let her go. She should have had on a vest, but I thought…I…” She clung tighter, her mouth whispered against the skin of my forearm. “What would have happened had you not been there? You saved her.”

  Pain twisted me in two, and my insides quaked, and the words were leaving me before I could stop them. “The sea took Julian.”

  “No,” she whispered so tightly, squeezing me closer, as if she were trying to take the sick reality from me.

  Austin drowned him.

  The rest of it burned on my tongue, the urge to say it aloud, to lay it all out. The burden that had always seemed too great to bear.

  But that was a secret I’d sworn to take to my grave.

  “I couldn’t allow it to happen again. Not to Kallie. I would have died getting to her if I had to. I won’t let anything happen to her.” My voice came rough with the promise. “Or to you. I’m going to take care of you.”

  Wetness seeped into my skin, and Shea sniffled as she allowed herself to cry in my arms.

  I swallowed around the lump wedged deep in my throat, pushed the words out around it. “What happened at the hospital—”

  “Please.” Shea cut me off. “Not tonight. I can’t handle anything more tonight. Just…hold me.”

  Relief poured over me like a balm, giving way to the exhaustion that weighed us down. I didn’t allow myself to consider just how terrified I was of her sending me away until she asked me to stay.

  I exhaled into the thick silence.

  Energy simmered around us. Glowing at the corners of my consciousness. Quiet yet unsettled.

  Growing.

  Transforming.

  Taking on a new life.

  MORNING ENCROACHED AT THE WINDOW of my bedroom. Slowly, I blinked into the dimness, attempting to orient myself to the promise of a new day after yesterday had threatened a tragedy I would not have survived.

  Every inch of me felt as if I’d been run over, like my entire being was raw with open wounds. Driven right into the ground. But I knew all of the pain hinged on the idea of Kallie not being a part of this world.

  Sickness clawed at me, dripping slow as it spread through my veins, and I hugged Kallie to me, my precious girl who was still lost in sleep, the horror of the day before leaving her exhausted and weak.

  “Thank you, God,” I whispered into all her wild, wild hair, pressing my mouth into it as I drew her in.

  I knew she was fine, but my head was still filled with a hurricane of What ifs.

  What if Baz hadn’t been there?

  What if we’d been alone, the way we’d been so many times before?

  What if he hadn’t gotten to her in time?

  What if.

  What if.

  What if.

  It was enough to leave my soul crushed and my mind on overload.

  I’d given up what I’d always believed would be my world so Kallie could become it instead—my joy and my heart and light. My entire life.

  But seeing her in Baz’s arms? In his care? Suddenly my entire life that had belonged solely to Kallie now also belonged to him, because he’d been sinking into it since the moment I first found him in that secluded corner. Now those simple dreams weren’t so simple anymore. I’d always known Sebastian was anything but a simple man and what he made me feel could never be labeled simple.

  It was disorder. Every touch fire. Every look a flame.

  Last night I could feel it stronger than ever before, emanating from him, the trauma that held him hostage as he whispered his admission into the back of my head.

  And I knew.

  And I knew.

  And I knew.

  I had always felt his pain, saw this man more clearly than anyone, yet somehow with every passing moment, he drew me deeper into his darkness and let me glimpse a little more of him.

  And I’d wanted to turn to him, to hold him and take it away. Take it on as my own if it would give him solace from his grief. But instead, it was Baz who had held us all night, holding me up when I was sure I was going under. As I’d drifted to sleep, I’d been swept in dreams that had lifted and built, dreams that had flourished into something I never thought they could be, his arms strong and sure, as if he himself were pouring them into me.

  Us.

  Last night, that’s what my heart had proclaimed.

  I wanted it.

  Forever.

  After what happened when we left the hospital, I knew a life with Sebastian would always be complicated. I guess I’d known it all along. And the terrifying thing was, I was all too willing to accept it.

  Careful not to disturb her, I unwound myself from Kallie and eased out of bed. I tucked the covers back to her chin, a gentle sweep of her hair as I leaned in and pressed a kiss to her
temple, breathing her in again before I silently tiptoed from the room, leaving the door cracked open behind me.

  The smell of coffee lifted from below, and I stole down the stairs, the subdued noises echoing from the kitchen urging me on.

  Sebastian.

  I nudged the swinging doors open to find him facing away in the middle of the room, shirtless, muscles bunched and tensed, the entire room filled with his harsh beauty, the air abrasive and vibrating with his gravity.

  A hand gripped his hair and the other had his phone crammed to his ear. “I don’t fucking care what you have to do, Anthony…who I have to sue or bribe or pay…get it down. Now.”

  His voice dripped hostility, his body bristled with anger.

  Cautiously, I stepped into the disturbed energy, my stomach twisting tight.

  Sebastian froze when he felt me. Each exposed muscle triggered when he finally moved, inch by excruciating inch as he turned to look at me.

  Horror stretched across his entire face. He slowly pulled the phone from his ear, cutting the call off without a parting word.

  “Shea.”

  My name was pure remorse.

  Sorrow.

  Regret.

  Fear lifted in my throat, and my hand went there, fingers trembling at my neck as if I could keep this terrible feeling away. “What is it?”

  His eyes dropped closed and I knew he wanted to shield me from it. Protect me again. But the terror tumbling through my spirit promised he could not protect me from whatever this was.

  “What is it?” I demanded a little louder, and reluctantly he lifted his phone, his jaw clenched as he clicked onto that same celebrity site where I’d read that first article, which had been filled with snide and snark, questioning Sunder’s whereabouts.

  Only this one…

  This one was questioning me.

  Questioning me as a mother.

  Has Stone hit rock bottom?

  Sunder front man, Sebastian Stone, has sunk to an all-time low. Reports have tied him to an unknown single mother in the Savannah, Georgia area where a near drowning took place yesterday at the Tybee Beach vacation home of Anthony De Pietro, Sunder’s long-time agent. Witnesses say the child was left unattended in the water while Stone and the mother consorted on the beach. Yet another ugly mark to the tarnished reputation of this infamous bad boy.