by Jordan Ford
“Your permission.” His husky voice obliterates the knot in my chest, setting my smile free.
No guy has ever bothered to ask me that before.
It’s amazing how two small words can hold so much power. So much respect.
I rise on my tiptoes and whisper against the edge of his mouth. “You have it.”
His lips curl beneath mine and I press my mouth against his smile. Like turning on a light switch, my entire body illuminates. From the top of my head to the tips of my toes, my senses are reawakened, the blacks and grays from my past torn apart with rainbow colors that simultaneously blind and revive.
Aidan’s gentle pressure, the sweet softness of his skin pressed against mine. He starts to pull away, but I dive back for more, gripping his shoulders when his arms glide around my waist, securing me to him. He bends his knees, crouching down to deepen the kiss.
My entire body is trembling as I open my mouth and let him in.
Nerves skitter through me, like restless bats wanting to disturb this moment, but then his tongue finds mine, warm and reassuring. I melt against him, breathing in his scent as we explore the wonders, the tastes, the soft back-and-forth dance that equals kissing.
It’s been over two years since I’ve kissed someone, let them anywhere near my mouth. I’d almost forgotten how good it was.
Or maybe I didn’t.
Because what I’m experiencing now is something new entirely.
Something right.
Something beautiful.
Something—
A sharp scream rends the air, annihilating our moment.
As if a blade has been brought down between us, Aidan and I jerk apart and spin to face the pier.
“What was that?” Aidan asks just as I hear something splash into the water.
37
Blood in the Water
AIDAN
“Over there.” Harley points to the end of the pier and I know she’s right.
That scream is running through me, shredding my nerves.
And then came the splash.
Something—or more likely someone—just hit the water. And hit it hard.
I’m running into the ocean before I even realize I’m doing it. Jumping forward, I hit the waves and start swimming.
The darkness won’t help me find whoever just fell, but I have to try.
That scream didn’t ring with exhilaration or delight. It was fear all the way.
Stark.
Cold.
Terrifying.
I kick harder, forcing my body through the choppy water. Stopping once, I get my bearings, angling my body a little to the left before plowing through the water until I reach the first wooden pillar.
Treading water, I scan the surface, the feeble moonlight barely aiding me, and now we have the shadows cast by the pier to contend with.
I hear Harley swimming up behind me. “Do you see anything?”
“Not yet!” I shout back, desperation firing through me.
“Let’s go to the end!” Harley starts swimming to the end of the pier and I follow her, quickly overtaking.
The waves are a little stronger out here, pushing us back towards the large posts that have held this pier for years. The moonlight is brighter out in the open and I think I see a body in the water.
I surge towards the floating shape.
“Right there!” Harley shouts behind me.
I crawl forward, keeping my head above the water so I don’t lose sight of the white shirt surging back and forth in the waves. Streaks of dark hair billow out around the victim. She’s facedown in the water, her body limp. There’s a murky darkness around her head, and it’s not until I get within a few feet that I figure out what it is.
Blood.
An icy chill races through my body.
Is she already dead?
Ignoring my waning energy, I kick a little harder, my shoulder clipping one of the posts as the water shoves me back. I strain and fight, reaching the girl just as she’s pushed into my chest. Flipping her over, I tuck her beneath my arm and start scissor-kicking for shore.
Harley appears beside me. “Is she breathing?”
“Not sure,” I puff. “We just need to get her to the sand.”
Harley stays with me, riding the waves in and getting to her feet as soon as she hits solid ground. Running back to my side, she takes the girl’s arm and helps me drag her up the beach. We’re both out of breath, our chests heaving from exertion and maybe a little panic.
I fist my hands for a second, trying to control the shakes, but I have no hope as Harley brushes the dark hair off the girl’s face and all I can see is a deep gash, blood dripping over pale white skin…and Skylar’s blue lips.
“Shit.” I barely breathe the word, lurching forwards and swiping the blood off my cousin’s cheek.
Harley presses her fingers into Skylar’s neck.
“I’ve found a pulse. I think.” She leans her ear against Skylar’s blue lips. “But she’s not breathing. You know CPR?”
“Yeah.” I nod, rising to my knees and following the protocol that’s been drilled into me. I have to do the training twice a year, and thank God it takes over, putting me on autopilot.
I’m still a shaking mess as I tip Skylar’s head to the side to drain any excess water from her mouth, then tip her head back and pinch her nose.
Creating a seal, I blow air into my cousin’s lungs and silently beg her not to die on me.
“What’s happened? Is she okay?” A frantic voice rushes through the darkness towards us. “Skylar!”
I can’t look up to make sure, but I think I recognize Wyatt’s voice.
What the hell is he doing here?
I don’t have time to think about it.
“Come on, Sky,” I whisper, checking for a breath and feeling nothing. “Come on!” I urge her, pinching her nose again and blowing two puffs into her mouth.
“Let me past!” Wyatt is yelling.
I glance up to see Harley pushing him back. “Have you got a phone?”
“Is she going to be okay?” He’s staring at Skylar with wide eyes and running both hands through his hair. “Shit.” He starts wailing. “Shit!”
“Hey!” Harley fists his shirt, yanking him down so she can get in his face. “Gimme your phone. We have to call an ambulance!”
He pulls it out, passing it to her without taking his eyes off Skylar.
I bend over to administer another two breaths, fear building fast and slick inside me.
“Please, Sky. Please breathe.” I check for a pulse again and fear clutches my heart when I can’t find one. I check again, then shout to Harley, “No pulse! Starting compressions.”
She spins to face me, relaying the information to the operator.
Wyatt has dropped to his knees and is now crying into his hands. I want to tell him to shut the hell up, but I’m too focused on trying to keep my cousin alive.
As I count to fifteen compressions, I glance at her face, noticing the deep gash along her hairline. Salty blood continues to stream from the wound. I need something to soak it up, but I can’t stop administering CPR.
“Fifteen,” I murmur, then pinch Skylar’s nose and breathe into her mouth again.
As I sit back up and lock my fingers together, Harley drops to her knees opposite me. “The ambulance is on its way.” Whipping off her wet shirt, she ignores the fact that she’ll be left in nothing but a black bra and bunches it against Skylar’s wound. She’s no doubt wondering what happened to my cousin.
Did she slip?
How’d she fall?
Was it a loose railing?
Was she being an idiot and balancing on the top?
Shutting out the questions is nearly impossible.
“That’s fifteen,” Harley murmurs, and I bend down to breathe. “Come on. Come on,” she whispers, ordering my cousin back to life.
As I blow oxygen into Skylar’s lungs, I beg for it to be enough.
If I’m going
to succeed at anything in my life, it has to be this.
38
Don’t Let Go
HARLEY
As soon as the paramedics arrived, they took over, pushing Aidan and me aside so they could work on Skylar. It took two shocks to the chest with the portable AED before Skylar’s pulse returned. Shortly after that, she started breathing again, but they kept the oxygen mask in place while they rushed her into the ambulance. She was unconscious and pretty much gray as they carried her up the beach.
I wait until the ambulance doors are shut and the sirens are blaring before I take a full breath. Part of me wants to sag to the rough concrete, but Aidan needs to get to the hospital.
I graze my fingers along the palm of his hand and he captures them quickly, gripping tight like he’ll fall apart if he doesn’t hold on.
“You did good,” I rasp, struggling to find my voice.
His expression is numb, his nod robotic.
“We need to get to the hospital.” I start leading him towards his car, glancing over my shoulder to see if I can spot the crying guy. He must have taken off while the paramedics were here. I wonder who he is and what he knows about Skylar’s fall.
“My parents. Uncle Jeff. Aunt Marlo.” Aidan’s static voice draws my attention back to him.
He sounds so wooden—an untreated piece of timber that’s rough and raw on the edges, splintered and weak in the middle.
“It’s okay.” I squeeze his hand, noting the pallor of his skin under the parking lot lights. He’s going into shock and I need to snap him out of it. We need to keep that adrenaline pumping for just a little longer.
Skylar may have been revived on the beach, but she’s still in critical condition. He needs to stay strong right now.
“Your family.” I snap my fingers. “Let’s call your family.” I pull him a little faster to his car. Once we’re safely inside, we grab his phone from the cupholder and I help him call everyone he needs to.
He starts with his parents, and as soon as his father answers the phone, Aidan’s lips begin to tremble and he can’t speak. I snatch the phone from him and relay what information I can. My voice is quaking, but at least it works.
“He saved her life, sir. You can be very proud of your son.”
Aidan’s father is in obvious shock, but he murmurs his thanks and tells us to meet them at the hospital.
I go to buckle up but pause, taking in Aidan’s numb expression. “I’ll drive,” I murmur, running around and coaxing him out of the driver’s seat.
By the time we reach the hospital and I’ve parked his car, Aidan seems to have found his grounding. He shows me how to put up the roof, and I’m about to lock up the car when he stops me.
“Wait.” Flipping down the passenger seat, he reaches into the back and rummages around for a second before producing a wrinkled T-shirt. “Sorry, it kinda smells, but…” He points to my half-naked body and I give him a grateful smile.
“Thanks.” I flick it out and slip it on. It’s massive on me and basically becomes a baggy dress, but it’ll have to do.
Aidan takes my hand and starts walking for the entrance.
We arrive just as two panicked adults run for the door. The woman notices Aidan and starts to cry. “Is she all right? Have you seen her?”
Aidan catches the woman against him, hugging her tight and murmuring, “It’s okay. They’re gonna look after her.”
“Marlo, come on.” The man takes her hand and they rush into the emergency room together.
The lady at reception has obviously been expecting them and goes into full comfort mode, guiding them to the waiting chairs and explaining everything in a calm voice that I can’t quite hear.
“Aidan!” The emergency room doors have slid open again and Aidan’s family rushes in. His little brother looks like he’s been yanked out of bed, but he has tears in his eyes and is looking pretty scared right now.
Aidan’s father nestles him against his side while Aidan’s mother wraps her eldest son in a hug and clings tight, gripping the back of his shirt. “Are you all right? What happened?”
I try to wriggle my hand free of his, but he only tightens his grip and as he pulls away from his mother, I catch the look in his eye.
Don’t let go.
I give him a reassuring smile and squeeze his hand back.
I won’t let go. I’ll stay for as long as he needs me to.
Aidan’s father glances at me, then gathers his flock, leading them to the chairs near the other two adults. I have to assume they’re Skylar’s parents. And I also can assume that Aidan’s dad and Skylar’s dad are brothers. They look too alike to be anything else.
“Luke.” The man stands, his eyes watering as he embraces his brother.
“What’d they say?” Luke asks.
“We’re waiting to go in and see her.”
“She’s breathing. Stable. For now.” The woman rises from the chair to stand beside her husband. Her eyes graze mine and she gives me a confused frown before looking at Aidan. “I hear you saved her life.”
“Oh, I just…” Aidan humbly shakes his head, doubt flickering over his expression before he looks at me. “We did. I hope it was enough.”
His aunt covers her mouth with her hand and starts crying. Her husband cradles her against him and her knees give out. They fall into the plastic chairs together, and soon everyone around me is fighting tears.
“I’m sure she’ll be okay,” I whisper, but I’m a nobody in this situation. My comfort isn’t enough.
Aidan sniffs and swipes a finger under his nose while we anxiously wait for news.
Thankfully it’s not far off, a doctor walking into the room a few minutes later.
“Hey, Kevin.” Skylar’s father rises from his seat.
“Jeff.” The man nods, his eyes skirting mine. A frown flickers across his forehead when he notices my hand in Aidan’s, but then he jerks his gaze back to Skylar’s parents who are now both standing, their arms around each other’s waists as if they’re bracing themselves.
“She’s stable.” Dr. Kevin starts with the good news. “But she’ll need monitoring closely. She hasn’t gained consciousness yet. Between the fall, the head wound and the time without oxygen, her brain has had a bit of a beating. She’s going to need a full work-up—CT and MRI scans. I want to get a full scope of what we’re dealing with.”
Skylar’s mother pulls in a shaky breath and starts crying again.
The doctor’s smile turns sympathetic and he reaches out and squeezes her arm. “It’s okay, Marlo. I’m confident she’ll get back to her normal self, but it’s going to take some time. I’ll make sure she gets the best care possible.”
“Thank you.” Marlo hiccups out the words, then covers her mouth again.
Watching this distraught mother is making me want to cry. She cares so much about her daughter, like if she lost Skylar a part of her would die. I’ve never really seen that kind of love before.
“Come on, I’ll let you sit with her.” The doctor with the kind voice extends his arm to show the way. They jerk after him and the rest of us are left to wait it out on the hard plastic chairs.
I look at the shell-shocked family as they slump into seats and stare at the walls, trying to make sense of the unexpected accident. Aidan glances down at me, tugging me over to a chair. He wants me to sit with him, to comfort him, but I don’t belong here.
Even though no one has actually said anything, it’s so obvious that I’m an outsider.
This is a cohesive family unit.
They have history.
They love each other.
I don’t know what that’s like, and being around it is incredibly uncomfortable.
“Do you want a drink?” I ask Aidan before I’m forced into the chair beside his. I glance at his brother and parents. “Drink? Anyone? I know Aidan could use the sugar kick. That adrenaline wears off and you just…” My voice trails away when no one seems to notice the fact that I’m talking.
Aidan’s father glances up when I stop, then gives me a kind smile and pulls his wallet out. “That’d be great. Thank you.” Handing me a twenty, he gives me his order and I memorize it, plus two more.
“Back soon.” I drift away from Aidan’s side, relieved to be doing something useful. Relieved to get away from a circle of people who seem bound by more than blood. A circle that could be broken if I try to find a place within it.
39
A Savvy Without A Sky
AIDAN
I watch Harley’s retreat, starkly aware of the fact that she’s wearing my shirt, and it looks huge on her. Tie a belt around that thing and she’d have a cotton dress.
I can’t take my eyes off her as she disappears from view.
It’s weird, but I feel the loss. I felt like I could keep it together when her hand was in mine.
She was my fellow rescuer. The one who drove me here.
My strength when I felt like I was about to break.
Seeing Skylar like that, thinking she was dead, it did me in. I’ve never faced something like this before, and my insides are raw and shaken.
Harley has a quiet strength about her that seemed to feed into me as she held my hand. But now she’s away from me. I rub my thumb and finger together and look across at my family.
That’s when I notice Dad’s questioning look.
“What?” I frown at him.
“She’s wearing your shirt.” His comment and dry expression imply so much more than what he’s saying.
I work my jaw to the side and strive for calm. “Because she took hers off to try and stop Skylar’s bleeding head wound.”
“Oh, okay.” Dad nods and raises his hands as two white flags.
“We need to get you some dry clothes.” Mom reaches out and runs her hand down my saturated shirt. “Were you at the pier? Did you see what happened?”
“No.” I shake my head, briefly reliving what I was doing when that scream tore me away from Harley. Her kiss was a mixture of sweetness and fire. My tongue skimming across hers. She tasted good. It was…
