Eight Years: A Novel (Trident Trilogy: Book One)
Page 19
“Millie?” I hear coming from my front door. Speaking of Chase. He texted me this morning and said he was going to come over and work on something. He’s taken on my rundown, little beach bungalow as his latest project.
“Hey, Chase. I’m in the bedroom. Be right out,” I shout over Clapton playing loudly from the front room.
“Hey, you going surfing?” He’s standing in the kitchen eating the cookies I made last night.
“Yeah. I’m not sure how good the surf is, but I thought I’d go out for a little bit anyway. What are you working on today?”
“I’m installing an automatic lock on your back gate, so it locks when you close it because I know you can’t be bothered to do it manually,” he says, full of fatherly disdain.
“Chase, it’s not needed. Even if someone comes into the backyard, they can’t get in the house. I always lock the house.”
“Yeah, and when you’re using the outdoor shower after you get back from the beach? It gives them plenty of time to attack you.”
“You sound just like Dad. No one is going to attack me in Pacific Beach, but if you want to make this place an impenetrable fortress, knock yourself out.”
“I will do that,” he says. “I start digging the moat next week.”
I smile and roll my eyes at him, knowing he’s probably only half kidding.
“Will you please eat the rest of the cookies? I’ve already eaten about ten,” I say giving him a kiss on the cheek as I head out back to grab my surfboard.
“Roger that,” I hear him say as I type the security code into the back door. He installed that system last month. Seriously, it’s getting harder to get into this place than the White House.
I put my board on the rack on my bike, and pedal the three blocks down to the pier. The ocean is completely flat. Not much chance of catching a wave today, but I decide to just paddle out past the pier and chill out a while.
I’ve probably been out here about thirty minutes when I think I hear my name. I look around to all the surfers about a hundred yards over who are trying to catch a ride on the smallest break. I don’t think I know any of them, and none of them seem to be looking at me.
I look over to the pier, and I see a guy standing on the railing, waving his arms wildly. I think he’s yelling at me. Maybe he’s warning me about a shark. I look around to see if I can see any fins. I don’t see any, but I pull my legs up instinctively. I look back at the guy just in time to see him do a swan dive off the end of the pier.
He surfaces and starts swimming over to me quickly. He’s swimming like he’s in an Olympic race. What the hell? I’m about ready to start paddling for shore, when he stops swimming long enough to look over at me. I almost fall off the board when I see Mason’s eyes popping out of the water.
Epilogue
Mason
San Diego, California
2020
I touched down in San Diego about fifteen minutes ago, and I’m already headed to the address Culver gave me for Millie. He gave it to me reluctantly, but he knew I was going to find her no matter what it took. I pull up in front of her house to find some guy opening her back gate. I’m not sure if he’s trying to break in, or worse, if he lives there with her.
He looks at me as suspiciously as I look at him as I walk up to the house. He’s in decent shape, but he’s way too fucking old for her. I’m hoping he’s just a handyman.
“I’m looking for Millie. She live here?”
He pumps out his chest and drops the screwdriver he’s holding into the toolbox. “Who the fuck are you?”
“Who the fuck are you?” I snap back. I’m ready to fight him if I need to, and, man, let me tell you, he should have kept that screwdriver in his hand.
He stares at me for a good minute before a slight smile starts forming on his face. That’s starting to piss me off until he says, “You’re Mason, aren’t you? Culver told me you were probably coming out.”
“Yeah. I’m Mason. Who are you?”
“Chase. I was her dad’s best friend.”
“You live here with her now?” I ask accusingly.
“Man, don’t be an asshole. She’s like a daughter to me. My wife and I moved here after I retired,” he says, walking toward me. “And, I’m here right now installing an automatic lock on her back gate because she’s too damn stubborn to lock it when she goes surfing.”
I shake my head, smiling. “Well, you definitely know Millie.”
“Yeah, she’s a piece of work, isn’t she? Culver said you helped her out of some tight spots. Thanks for that.”
“Yeah, just doing my job, you know?”
“I doubt you’d be here if that’s all it was,” he says, raising his eyebrows.
“Yeah,” I say, looking down. “She surfing now?”
“Yeah. She just left about fifteen minutes ago. She’s usually off Pacific Beach, south of the pier.”
“Thanks, man,” I say as I walk back toward my car.
He calls after me. “Mason, I know I speak for Millie’s dad when I say if you ever hurt her, in any way, I will kill you. Like honestly, I will go to jail if necessary, but I will kill you.”
“To be honest, if that ever happened, I would want you to kill me.”
He nods at me and picks up the screwdriver again.
When I get to Pacific Beach, I grab my binoculars and start scanning the surfers south of the pier to see if I can spot her. I finally see her way beyond the break. She’s just sitting on her board looking out at the horizon.
I walk out to the end of the pier and start yelling her name and waving my arms to get her attention. She finally looks up at me, but she doesn’t wave back or make any move to paddle over to me. All right, Mills, if this is what it’s going to take, then let’s do this. I take off my shirt, get up on the railing of the pier, and dive in. I look up a few times as I’m swimming over to her. Her face finally registers some recognition when I get about twenty feet away.
“What are you doing here?” I can’t tell if she’s happy to see me or not.
“You mean in the ocean or in San Diego?” I’ve finally made it over to her. I rest my arms on her board.
“How about both?”
“Well, I’m in the ocean because I was standing on the pier, waving my arms like a crazy person to try to get you to paddle in, but your stubborn ass wouldn’t do it. So I decided to just come to you.”
“Yeah, I saw your high dive,” she says, starting to smile. “I didn’t know it was you, but I guess I should have figured it out when you did that.”
“And, I’m in San Diego because this is where I live now.”
“You live here? Since when?”
“Since about an hour ago when I landed in the airport from Virginia.”
“Did you transfer to a team out here?”
“No, I retired from the teams, and took a job teaching new recruits in Coronado. I’ve got a little under four years until I have twenty and can retire, and I’m going to spend it here, teaching.”
“You retired from the teams? Oh my God, Mason. That’s huge. I can’t believe you’re okay with that.”
“You know what? This water is fucking cold. Permission to come aboard, Captain?”
“Can you get on the board without dumping me in the water?” She doesn’t look convinced.
“Probably not,” I say, grabbing her arm and pulling her off the board.
She surfaces and sees me sitting on her board. “That was not nice,” she says, laughing.
“Yeah, I think I’m done being nice.” I smile as I grab her under her arms and lift her on the board so she’s facing me.
She takes a second to squeeze the dripping water out of her hair. “You really quit the teams? I can’t believe it.”
“Look, Millie. I loved that job. In my mind, I could do it for a hundred years, bu
t eventually my body was going to give out and make me quit anyway. I did it for fifteen years. It’s time to have other priorities in my life.”
“What other priorities?” She says it so softly, I can barely hear her. I pick up her legs and pull her toward me until her legs are on top of mine, and our bodies are only inches apart.
“You, Millie. You. You’re my priority. That’s why I moved here. I want to be with you, and I will make any change in my life to make that happen. You can resist me all you want, but I’m going to keep trying. Because this—you and me—is supposed to happen.”
“I haven’t told you a lot of stuff about me,” she says, looking down.
“I know. Why don’t we go back to your house, and you can tell me now?” I say, pulling her chin up so she’s looking at me. “There’s nothing you can say that will make me change my mind. Absolutely nothing.”
She smiles that mischievous smile that makes her eyes sparkle. “You think maybe we can talk about it tomorrow? There’s a few other things I’d like to do with you first.”
“You’re in charge,” I say softly as my lips start to explore her face.
“I’m in charge? Really? Are you feeling okay? Do you have a fever?” She wraps her legs around my waist, and her arms around my neck.
“Maybe it’s time for you to stop talking now, Millie,” I say as my lips find hers.
The End
Eight Years is the first book in the Trident Trilogy.
Buy the second book, The Only Reason, on Amazon.
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