Tsunami Blue

by Gayle Ann Williams

  He looked at me with that dark expression. The dangerous one. “You like me, Blue O’Malley. And you want me. You just don’t recognize it.”

  O’Malley? I hadn’t been called by my last name in a decade or more. I was Tsunami Blue. I didn’t know who Kathryn O’Malley was anymore. And Gabriel was right: I did want him. But I did recognize it. I also recognized the danger that went along with it.

  Using the last of the hot water, he rinsed us off from head to toe and back again.

  He looked stern, bothered, and miserable. I noticed that his erection was gone. Guess he didn’t want me anymore. So now I was miserable. And that made absolutely no sense. Damn it, I chastised myself, what do you want? His words weighed heavy on my heart: You want me. You just don’t recognize it.

  As he picked me up in his arms and carried me to the bunk in the V-berth, I saw regret flicker in his eyes. He pulled out a clean, well-worn T-shirt and tossed it my way.

  “You should get out of the wet clothes.” He frowned at my frown. “Please?” he added. “You can’t afford to get sick on top of a concussion.”

  “On top of a black eye, on top of a swollen lip, on top of a bruised—”

  “I get it, Blue.”

  I was taken aback at the anger in his voice. I was trying to lighten the mood. I sighed. Guess I wasn’t much of a comedian either.

  “I’m sorry I haven’t been able to take better care of you.” Sadness and regret laced his voice.

  “I’m still alive,” I said softly.

  He punched his teak cabinet hard and the drawer popped open. Turning his back to me, he skimmed off his wet underwear. And even with my messed-up vision, I could clearly see what a magnificent butt he had. Damned if he didn’t have magnificent everything. Why did he have to be a Runner? Why couldn’t he just be Gabriel, my dark angel, and call it good?

  He reached back into his drawer and brought out a clean white tee, then turned to face me, holding the garment just so to cover that part of him that terrified me the most. It was the part that fascinated me the most too.

  A single candle burned, and its flickering light danced and played along the hard lines of his body. He looked beautiful. Darkness and danger just rolled off him naturally. What was it about a bad boy?

  I never realized until that moment that I could want any man as much as I wanted Gabriel Black.

  He leaned across me and blew out the tiny light. But not before he saw me flinch away from him, a reflex as second nature to me as breathing.

  “Nice,” he said with a sigh. “Like I could ever hurt you. Nice.”

  I woke with a start to that voice of silk I’d recognize anywhere. Even in my dreams. Dreams that were leaving me damp and wanting and frustrated.

  “Wake up. It’s time to check your eyes.”

  I groaned. “You just did.”

  “That was an hour ago.”

  “They’re still blue. Good enough?”

  He ignored me and reached over to light a tiny tea candle next to the bunk—with matches, of all things. Not a flint and stone for a spark. Real matches.

  “Matches?” I asked in amazement.

  Gabriel reached across me and opened a teak drawer. He grabbed a handful on matchbooks and scattered them on the blanket before me.

  There were matchbooks of all sizes and shapes. They were imprinted with things like Tony and Angela’s Wedding, and I wondered if they were still married. Or still alive after the waves. I hoped they were. Then there was The Martini and Bikini Bar, which sounded like fun, but I’d never owned a bikini, so maybe I couldn’t have gotten in. And bikinis usually required big boobs, so there was that. And, of course, there was my personal favorite, We Leave Bite Marks Club.

  That sounded like my kind of place.

  Gabriel said it was a vampire-wannabe club in what had once been Vancouver, that it had been all the rage before the waves. Now it was gone, swallowed long ago by a tsunami that came in the dead of night, which I guessed was sort of appropriate. Still, I told him that sucked, no pun intended. I really was disappointed.

  He brought the light over and shined it in one eye, then the other. Satisfied, he blew out the candle.

  “You go back to sleep now.”

  “Can’t do it.”

  I heard a long sigh and then, “Why?”

  “I need answers.”

  “Now?”

  “Why not now?”

  “I thought you wanted to sleep for twenty years.”

  “Ten,” I said.

  “Whatever. Just go to sleep. Trust me: You’ll need your strength in the morning.”

  “Yeah. Call me crazy, but hiding from Runners is exhausting that way. Trouble is? I’ve got a Runner in my bed.”

  “My bed.”

  “Small details.”

  “Still, it’s mine.”

  “Well, you were in my bed. Until you burned it up.”

  Silence. And then, “Couldn’t be helped.”

  “Sure it could have.”

  “How’s that?”

  “You could have not visited my island. You could have not washed up on my beach. You could have—”

  He rolled over and kissed me. Hard. It so surprised me that I melted into him for a moment, not sure what had just happened. Was happening. And by then, I wasn’t sure I wanted it to stop. But he stopped. Damn it.

  “You want answers?” He reached under the blanket and rubbed the top of my thigh with lazy fingers. “How about a trade?”

  “A trade?” That sounded like something my alter ego Bambi would do. And I kind of liked it. “What type of trade?” I whispered.

  “The kind we just did.”

  “Um, the kind you did.”

  “You were there too.”

  I touched my swollen lip, which throbbed some from the pressure of the intimate kiss. Yep, I sure was there too. And I had to admit, I wouldn’t have missed it for anything. Not even Christmas Blend.

  “Okay, I’ll play.” Why not? I told myself. Bambi needed answers. And let’s get real: So did I.

  He started to kiss me. “Hey.” I pushed him back. “I go first. No freebies.”

  “Then go. Let’s get this game started.”

  I thought I detected a little excitement in his voice. And that in turn excited me. At last, answers to my questions. Now all I had to do was concentrate.

  “How did you end up unconscious on my beach?”

  He rolled partially on top of me, his leg straddling one of mine. “I fell in the water,” he whispered. Then he kissed me. Careful of my swollen lip, he nuzzled my mouth open, biting softly on my lower lip.

  I loved it. My nipples hardened, and the twinge in my belly roared to life. I was scared. I was thrilled. Shit. How’d I get so sidetracked? I pushed him away.

  “‘I fell in’?” I asked. “What kind of answer is that?”

  “Ask better questions.”

  “How? How did you fall in the water?”

  “My Zodiac capsized. The surf was too strong.”

  He kissed me again, this time more demanding, deeper, with tongue involved. And hands. He caressed my thighs under the blanket with feather-soft strokes as he moved on top of me, careful of his weight. I almost moaned in pleasure. I thought using his hands was cheating. But hey, I wasn’t a referee, right? Right, said Bambi.

  I pulled away from the kiss, gasping at his nearness. Nothing was making sense. He was too good a sailor to try to beach in a midnight winter surf. I tried again.

  “Are you a good Runner?”

  “There are no good Runners.” Gabriel shifted his body on mine, and I felt his erection hard against my thigh.

  The kiss lasted longer this time, and my bearings slipped farther away. My mind was mush, while my body ached for something I’d never had.

  “Who’s Indigo?” I asked when I could breathe.

  “Someone to avoid.”

  And the kiss started all over again and went on and on and on.

  “Why do you want me?” I asked after a
ridiculous amount of time of kissing and touching.

  “Because you’re beautiful.” Kiss. “Because I don’t share.” Kiss. “Because you’re mine.” A longer kiss.

  That wasn’t what I meant to ask. What I’d meant to ask was, What do you want to do with me? No, that wasn’t right. He was showing me what he wanted to do with me. Hell, he was doing it with me. And I was doing it right back. This question-and-answer thing was just not working out.

  My breasts ached for his touch, and when he skimmed the T-shirt off my body and put his lips to my nipple, I moaned soft and deep. “Okay,” I whispered in his ear as I ran my hands through his silky hair, “that’s a bonus question.”

  “Whatever you say.”

  My body arched into his, and I closed my eyes to the anger and hurt and pain of the past. Something was happening, or maybe about to happen. I didn’t know for sure. I’d never been with a man before. And I was pretty sure that after tonight, I’d never want to be with any other man than Gabriel Black. And didn’t that just scare the hell out of me. I mean, I really didn’t know who he was. Or what he was. I knew only that for now, for tonight, he was everything.

  And I was ready for everything. Wasn’t I? Ready for him. I thought of Gabriel in my bed the night I’d found him. I knew his size, knew every inch of him. It was intimidating and scary and thrilling all at once to think of him and me together in that way. But hell I was a twenty-four-year-old woman. I was ready, right? In surroundings like this I could die at any time, and I wanted this experience. Didn’t I?

  I did. From start to finish, I wanted all that Gabriel was offering.

  “Gabriel,” I said. He lifted his head from my breast, and I pulled his shirt off the same way he had mine.

  “What did you mean,” I said as I ran my hands down his chest, “by not doing anything I’m not ready for?”

  Gabriel paused and cocked his head. I could see his expression in the moonlight. Thoughtful.

  He rolled off me and pulled me close to his body as if to protect me. He shoved his hand through that black hair of his and sighed.

  “Look, I didn’t mean for things to move so fast for us.”

  “You don’t want this?” I tried to keep my voice steady, to keep the hurt from seeping through. I’d been rejected before. This wasn’t new. But I was lying to myself. Everything about this situation was new.

  “Of course I want this. More than you can know. But I want us to be ready.” He pulled me into him and whispered, “I want you to be ready.”

  “Make me ready. Please.”

  He kissed my lips softly and guided my hand down under the covers and placed my hand on his penis. I gasped at the sheer size of his erection. Maybe I wasn’t ready. And for the first time in bed with Gabriel Black, I felt real fear set in.

  Sensing my panic, Gabriel turned and faced me. “Tonight, we prepare, Blue. You have nothing to fear. I could never hurt you.”

  He moved my leg over his, opening me to his touch. I gasped as he touched me there, where the dampness and desire had grown.

  Gabriel moved his fingers over my tiny bud in a rhythm that started slowly and built to a pace that had me panting. A strange sensation was building, strong and fierce. And when the feeling rose to the surface, I whispered his name over and over. My voice became louder as the sensation grew, and when the scream broke from my lips, Gabriel was there to meet it with a kiss to end all kisses. And as I collapsed, my strength gone and my body limp, he slipped his fingers into me, probing, teasing, stretching. I was slick with desire, and the sensation felt wonderful. I wanted more.

  Gabriel whispered that this was how he would wake me up every hour on the hour. And soon enough, in a few days, he promised, I’d be ready for him.

  All of him.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Gabriel’s twenty-four hours turned into forty-eight. The winds were up and the sea seemed angry to have so many ships gathered with a single minded purpose: finding me.

  So the sea delayed the mission, tossing some of the small ships like corks caught in a whirlpool. One tiny vessel capsized. No one stopped to help.

  But Gabriel hid me well, and the sea rewarded him by sending him smaller swells, less chop, and mist over the bow instead of freezing waves.

  Every moment I listened for a message and watched for a wave. Unfortunately, if I saw it before I sensed it, there’d be no surviving it. No one would.

  I was sicker than I’d ever been.

  I still hadn’t earned my sea legs, and having to hide below from the Runners only enhanced my seasickness. The concussion didn’t help. I had to hand up a bucket to Gabriel periodically after emptying my stomach of its contents, which I found humiliating. But Gabriel understood and would ruffle my hair and wink as he took the foul container.

  I longed for the fresh open air, my New San Juan Island beach, a run with Max. I looked at the dog collar Gabriel had hung on a hook meant for his Atlantis rain gear. He’d tossed the jackets in a heap to hang the collar where we both could see it. It was a constant reminder that once we were out of this mess, we were going back for him.

  Gabriel had promised.

  And I believed him. A promise from a Runner. Uncle Seamus would have had a good laugh over that one.

  Trace had radioed over from his boat a time or two, and when I asked Gabriel about him, how he got his name, Gabriel said I wouldn’t want to know.

  But I’m the type who likes answers, and I refused to drop it.

  After he told me how people tended to disappear around Trace, like they’d never existed—you know, without a trace—I wished I had listened to Gabriel. I wished I hadn’t asked. I could have lived without knowing, especially the part about the human ears he kept as trophies.

  But the night had been a different story.

  Anchored away from the pack, Gabriel could sneak me above deck to breathe in the fresh sea air and gaze at the stars.

  We huddled under a quilt, and as my head and stomach calmed, we “practiced,” getting me ready for him with an intimacy that seemed as natural as breathing. With the magic of his fingers and powerful kisses, we practiced and practiced until the sounds of my moans and muffled screams became too loud. Too dangerous. Guess there was a little Bambi in me after all.

  I passed the night in Gabriel’s arms, sometimes playing our trade game, where he continued to cheat. I mean, come on.

  But mostly, we slept. Even a man as strong as Gabriel Black had to sleep sometime. With his arms around me, his leg pinning my body, there was no escape. There was no place to run, to hide. And if I were honest, I didn’t know that I wanted to leave him. I knew only that given the chance, I would have to.

  Now, forty-eight hours after my concussion and counting, we were at New Vancouver, the only remaining hub of humanity in the New Canadian Gulf Islands.

  It had to be a sight from the shore, a hundred or more Runner ships approaching the harbor, sporting spinnakers and flags with the daggered 666. A handful of boats had skulls attached to their bowsprits. Gabriel said I was to avoid those vessels at all costs.

  Sirens cut through the afternoon fog, a deafening sound that scattered the people onshore like ants at a picnic. All because someone showed up with Raid.

  I watched from my vantage point, my head peeking up through the forward hatch. It was the same hatch the boys had peered at Gabriel and me through when we had shared our first real kiss. Even if it had been for show.

  Given how far we’d come and all that had happened? It seemed like decades ago.

  Gabriel knew there would be no keeping me down below once we entered the harbor, so he’d outfitted me in a black hooded sweatshirt and shades with skulls on the side. “Cool,” I said. “They match my boots.”

  “They hide your eyes, Blue. You may not realize it, but your blue eyes are legendary.”

  “I did not know that,” I said sarcastically. “As you might recall, I don’t get out much.”

  He’d given me that scowl I knew and loved. “Down, girl
.”

  Gabriel passed me on deck and reached down to push my head below. Again. I felt like one of those groundhogs in a carnival game I’d seen at age six, where when they popped their heads up, they got smashed back down by a toy mallet. I’d been good at it. I’d taken out all my anger and pain on those poor mechanical heads, and when I broke the game, Uncle Seamus and I had been thrown out of the park. I think he had been proud of me. It was one of the few times I’d seen him laugh.

  I popped my head up again.

  Danger was all around, but my excitement grew with each passing minute as we sailed farther into the harbor. My heart pounded a fast rhythm while adrenaline shot through my veins. I couldn’t wait to get to shore.

  I wanted to see a cow and see how they made cream. I wanted pepper and salt; Gabriel was almost out. I wanted more matchbooks; I was thinking of collecting them now. I wanted to do my first trade; Gabriel would give me some freeze-dried packets of Christmas Blend, wouldn’t he? What were a few packets to Gabriel Black, the Juan Valdez of the West Coast? What might they be worth? A cool mill? Or how about one new pink bra? Or maybe a blue one, turquoise, like the colors in my tattoo. Gabriel could use a little color in his life. I almost laughed out loud, thinking the bras were more for him than me.

  Giddy didn’t begin to cover what I was feeling. I’d lived a solitary life for so long that this was like a hundred Christmases rolled into one.

  But most of all, I wanted to see children. Lots and lots of children. I wanted to tousle their hair and pinch their cheeks. I wanted to make sure they were real. I’d dreamed of broadcasting to a planet still alive and brimming with the hope for a future that only children could bring. And I had dreamed over so many years that one of them might be Finn.

  “It’s not what you think, Blue.”

  So lost was I in my thoughts, I didn’t hear Gabriel approach from up above. He’d lowered all the sails but one, rolled and packed the spinnaker, and tied off all the lines. I’d been watching along the way, learning what I could, but this time I was so distracted from the excitement, I doubted that much had registered this time.