"I'm sorry, Ursula,” said Prince. “And I apologize to your husband."
"Prince, it's me," said the man. “Your old buddy, Jett.”
Prince stared at the man, but no recognition dawned. He didn't remember much from his time in this town. Except for the places he’d hide to get away from his father and a few reckless nights with Ursula.
"It's me; Jett Elison. Don’t you remember?”
Prince's brows rose as he took the man in anew. Jett had trailed behind him in the short spurts when Prince had lived here. They were the same age, but the man looked like the years had not been kind to him. Just in his twenties, Jett had a touch of gray at his temples, and the hair at the center of his head was thinning.
"Right, sorry," said Prince. "It's been a long time."
"Yeah, last time I saw you was at the Christmas Gala almost a decade ago.” Jett chuckled, slapping his knee like an old man would. “Remember that?"
Prince did not. He lifted the corner of his mouth in a noncommittal grin that he let people take however they wanted.
"You've been fighting all these years overseas,” said Jett. “What's your body count?"
The corners of Prince's mouth dropped into a frown. He got that question from civilians a few times. Mainly it was a male who hadn’t made the decision to serve but played a lot of shoot ‘em up video games.
Ursula stepped in front Jett and took Prince by the arm. "Ignore him. He's still not house trained. It's good to see you."
Prince couldn’t say the same. Ursula looked older than her years as well. He could see past the makeup she used to contour her face to appear otherwise. He couldn't remember what had attracted him to her. Probably because she had had that same vicious attitude as he'd had as a kid.
Hurt people, hurt people.
Prince had hurt enough people in his life. He was too broken to heal. He just wanted to be left alone.
“Where are you staying these days?” asked Ursula. “We can go back to your house and get reacquainted.”
Prince didn’t have a single desire to spend any time with this woman. If there was one thing he remembered about her, it was that Ursula had been a social climber. Her goal had been the top of the food chain.
“My place is over there.” Prince pointed at the marina where his home was docked.
Ursula’s shark-like smile slipped when she saw the boats. “You live on a houseboat.”
She took a step back. She began mumbling about catching up later as she had somewhere else to be. Which was fine with Prince. He was no longer the same boy that he’d been with her. The man he’d become had no interest in getting mixed up with a woman like her. He wished he could get tangled up in a redhead with soulful eyes and soft hands. But just like he hadn’t heard her voice, he doubted he’d ever see her face again.
Chapter Six
Ari inhaled deeply, taking her breath into her diaphragm like her father had taught her. She waited for the swell of the music to rise. Then she opened her mouth and added her voice to the song.
The notes trilled from her perfectly. Her voice laid on top of the guitar’s strings at the song's opening. When the drums came in announcing the chorus, Ari let the lyrics roll out of her. She had the urge to close her eyes and get lost in the song, but she had to look at the lyrics on the paper to keep her place.
The song wasn't a Top Forties hit, or even an oldie. But it was a goodie. It was one of her sister's new tracks. Ari had no problem lending her voice to Adelle’s demo reels. Inside their home studio, there was no one watching but her sisters.
Here her voice was safe from a jeering audience. There was no one about who’d look at her with derision to make her forget herself or doubt her ability. Yet in the sanctity of the studio, the music stopped.
"Ari, you missed that note,” Adelle said from behind the glass of the sound booth. “You need to fill your lungs with more air to belt that bit out. Let's do it again."
Ari rolled her eyes as she looked into the two-way mirror. Her sister's head was down, futzing with the soundboard, so Adelle didn't see Ari's ire. Not that she would care.
“Also, I need you to speed up the chorus. I want the pace to be more staccato."
"All right, I'm on it," Ari said the words into the microphone. Her singing voice was all power, but her speaking voice was still soft from years of non-use.
Though Ari could take direction and criticism from her sisters, it didn’t mean she liked it. But this was another source of income for them. And it was the only way that Ari could comfortably use her voice to share with others. So, she took the direction and began again.
Adelle started the track from the beginning. Ari took in her sister's direction. Inhaling an even deeper breath where Adelle wanted a more resonant note. Speeding up where she wanted a faster pace.
After a moment, Ari got lost in the song. The notes rolled from her tongue effortlessly. She closed her eyes, but the moment she did so, she saw his face, and she choked.
Once again, the music came to a glaring halt. Silence filled the sound booth, along with Ari’s shallow breaths.
“Ari, what's going on with you today?"
“Nothing. I’m good. Let’s go again.”
Ari hadn't told her sisters about her encounter last night. No one had witnessed her little tête-à-tête with Eric Prince. And the man had disappeared without a trace after this new incident.
Now Ari had two incidents with the man. Both encounters had been life-altering. The first had left her mute. The second had left her wanting.
Ari still couldn't get over the fact that the man was back. There wasn't much about him that was the same. Except his frown. But that expression had been fleeting, and only when he'd looked at the stage. Not when he'd covered her with his body.
"Ari, you missed the note again."
Ari scrubbed her hands over her face. But it didn't erase the feel of being in Prince's arms. It didn't wipe out the look he'd given her, that longing look mixed with desperation.
Last night, after they’d closed up and she was alone in her bedroom, Ari had thought long and hard about what must have happened to force such a change in Prince. She knew he’d gone into the military, and so she had reasoned that he must be suffering from PTSD.
That and the fact that he was sporting a hearing aid. He hadn't worn one in his youth. Not back when he’d always sported the buzz cut made notable by men in the service. So something must have happened that caused him to lose his hearing while in the military.
But that still didn’t explain his second reaction. His first reaction had been to the sound feedback. His instincts should’ve been to duck for cover. But that hadn’t happened. His second reaction had been to protect her.
"You are just spacey today."
Ari blinked a couple of times, bringing her sister in focus. Adelle was squinting at her through the two-way glass. Her fingers were off the sliders and knobs of the soundboard. Her arms were crossed over her chest, clearly waiting for an explanation.
In answer, Ari lifted a shoulder. Even though she spoke to her sisters, she didn't always feel the need to. They were sisters. They could communicate without words. Plus, she didn't want to explain exactly why she was spacing out.
"Did you hear that Eric Prince was back in town?”
Ari held perfectly still. Then, knowing that that would only draw further scrutiny, she shuffled the music pages on the stand. All the while, not meeting Adelle’s gaze.
"His dad died last year, and he didn't even come to the funeral."
Ari had remembered that. Lieutenant Prince was not the nicest man in town. He wouldn't be missed, but the town still paid their respects. Ari had been on pins and needles the day of the funeral, expecting to see the younger Prince stroll into town. When there had been no sign of him, she'd decided to think the worst of him like everyone else. It fit with her narrative that he was just a bad seed who didn't care who he hurt. The boy who would jeer at a little songstress' first on-stage performance, cau
sing her to lose her confidence and a bit of her dignity, would easily be a no show at his own father’s funeral.
"But he's not at the old family house. It's still being let by renters. I thought he'd kick them out and sell it."
"So, you think he's just here for a short while?" Ari asked, trying to make her voice sound disinterested. Scales were easy because she practiced them. But speaking tones were hard when she didn’t use her voice in that way on a daily basis.
Adelle shrugged. "I don't see why he'd stay. From what I hear, he's been around the world, a Navy Seal, or something. There's nothing for him here. Hopefully, he takes himself back underwater and never bothers us again."
When Ari tried to remember the cruel grin of the boy who had tormented her, all she could see was the pleading in the grown man’s eyes. All she could remember was the feel of his arms, trying to keep her safe.
Ari cleared her throat to force out words. "I'm gonna head out to work on that note."
"You're off to your private nook on the beach? Just don't be too long. They say a storm is coming."
Ari nodded as she headed out the door.
Chapter Seven
Prince pulled at the window pane. The pane jammed, not giving. Since the day he'd boarded the boat to make it his home, he'd kept most of the windows open. But there was a storm coming at some point today, and he needed to get all the windows closed.
There had been a few rainfalls since he'd been back. However, today's storm was predicted to be severe. Not bad enough that hurricane or tropical warnings were sounded over the television, radio, and phones. But enough that he needed to batten down the hatches of his home.
The window in his bedroom finally gave. It was the last one. Inside the boat’s interior, the silence felt a little different. No matter whether his hearing aid was off or on, Prince could always hear the sound of the waves. It was the only thing that droned on against the constant ringing from the blast. It was the only thing that lulled him to sleep at night. Even though every time he closed his eyes, all he saw behind his lids were the red of the flames from the explosion.
“Save them,” a gruff voice pleaded. “Save my wife and child.”
That was the other sound Prince heard on repeat. That voice accompanied the record playing on a loop. The bomb of the explosion was like a bass drum. The ringing of the silence that followed was the constant strum of guitar strings. And that desperate plea was the lyrics of a song Prince would never forget.
“They are my world.”
Prince gave his head a shake, trying to interrupt the earworm that had plagued him this last year. He never sang along to this sad tune. The lyrics had never made sense to him, not with the father he’d had.
Out on the docks, it was not very cramped. The few boats stored at this part of the marina were spaced far enough apart that Prince didn't fear another ship would damage his or vice versa. Still, he went about checking his mooring to ensure the vessel was secured.
He’d learned all he knew about boats from his father. Lieutenant Derrick Prince had always seemed more pirate than soldier to Prince. He coveted the treasures in his horde and would make anyone who disobeyed his orders walk the plank -metaphorically speaking. A backhand across the face was a swifter punishment that Lt. Prince’s wife and child endured when his orders weren’t minded.
Seeing that the ship was attached, Prince set about his final task of clearing anything untethered from the deck. He stored his fishing gear inside, along with a lawn chair he rarely used. Though he lived out on the water, he preferred to stay inside the boat most days. Away from prying eyes. The last thing he wanted was visitors from his old life, like yesterday.
Ursula was not a good memory from his past. In fact, there were no good memories here in this town. He should think about unmooring the boat, lifting his anchors, and sailing away. But where to?
Did it matter? He had no one left. His mother had died a decade ago after one too many plank walks at the end of his father’s hand. His father’s alcohol ridden body had finally mutinied on him last year.
Prince had been in recovery on a German base at the time. His superiors had tried to find a way to get him to be present at his father’s funeral, but Prince hadn’t cooperated. He had enough memories of seeing that man while he was in pain. He didn’t need his last sight of his father to be while he was recovering from a bomb blast.
Prince had also lost touch with what was left of his team. The injuries of the other two men of his team who had survived weren’t bad enough that they’d been knocked out of commission. They were both still out in the field operating. When they had made time to call, Prince simply hadn’t had the heart to answer, knowing that hearing the conversation would be a struggle.
He could've stayed on the Purple Heart Ranch; the rehabilitation ranch out in Montana that was packed to the fences with Wounded Warriors like him. That place had felt the closest to a home. But there was an edict there that to live on the ranch for more than three months, he'd have to get married. As if any woman would consent to marry him.
The thought of red flames touched his mind's eye. Not the flames of the blast. This was a crown of silky red hair that smelled of strawberries.
Prince shook his head. He should not be thinking of her. So why were his feet moving out the door?
He walked back up the marina. The fluorescent open sign for Carol on the Bay was on. Prince stepped up to the door. The glass showed that the place had a number of customers for the lunch hour.
A redhead popped out of the kitchen. She looked very much like his waitress. But her hair was cut short and radiated out from her head like a cloud. It didn’t fall in long waves down her back. It was not his waitress.
He felt movement behind him. A couple was ambling toward the door. Prince stepped back and opened it for them. He saw their lips move to form the words thank you. He offered the couple an unpracticed smile. Once the door closed behind him, he turned and left.
As he walked back toward the water, the storm clouds were still off in the distance. He had time before it hit. He climbed to a hidden cove just off the bay. This had been his secret hiding place when he was a child trying to escape shouts and hits. Here the only thing that crashed were the waves. The only thing that shouted were the birds up ahead.
The bomb blast had done the most damage to the tympanic membranes of his inner ear. Seventy percent of that kind of damage from IED blasts recovered within six months with spontaneous healing. The blast had happened a year ago. For once, Prince wasn’t in the top percentile of his class.
He had to face the facts. His hearing was never coming back. He would spend the rest of his life like this. Not experiencing the world in a full spectrum of sound. His hearing was now a shade of gray.
The waves crashed around him. The birds cried as they dove for food. But there was something hovering over the sound. It was the sweetest melody Prince had heard in a long time, perhaps ever in his lifetime.
He stepped away from the rocks of the cove to peer around. His head canted like a bird’s searching out the sound. He strained his hearing, urging himself to find the source.
And then he saw her.
Chapter Eight
The sea had always been Ari's favorite accompanist. The waves crashing around her fell in time to the beat of the notes she sang. The lyrics held true with every swell of the waves, every hiss of the sand receding, every surge of seawater returning to tickle her toes.
In this private little spot of the beach, Ari could sing her heart out and not worry about detection. The rocks hid her person. The waves hid her sound. The birds were her backup singers, though they never sang the same song.
Which was good because this song her sister had written was really hard. Ari had never gotten stage fright when it was just her and her sisters. But the number of times she'd messed up the timing of this song this afternoon had unnerved her.
Was she losing her voice in earnest? Or maybe she was just losing her mind? Because it defi
nitely wasn’t the lyrics of Adelle’s melody running through her mind. Ari’s thoughts kept turning back to her run-in with Prince.
She should've asked Adelle where the man was staying while in town. Not so that she could happen by and see him. So that she could avoid him, of course.
What was he even he was doing here? When he was leaving? Had he changed at all?
Ari knew the answer to that last one. Prince had clearly changed in his time away. Physically—definitely. Behaviorally—maybe?
But the bar wasn’t that high for the man. Eric Prince couldn't have had a worse attitude than when he was younger. She knew he'd lost his mother soon after The Incident. And that his father was prone to outbursts. Thinking back, she'd never seen Lt. Prince smile once. He always looked stern and miserable.
What must it have been like to grow up with a father who raised his voice and never smiled? Ari was lucky enough to see her father’s smile every week. Well, sometimes she saw his grin. Most times, the camera was pointed at his chest or his forehead. Or her parents had forgotten to turn the video on. But she always heard his strong deep baritone tell her and her sisters how much he loved them. They often sang together online.
They would be here soon for the Christmas holidays, and Ari couldn’t wait to be wrapped up in her dad’s embrace. She wondered if Prince had ever experienced his father’s embrace? She doubted it. She wondered if Prince had anyone to visit with the approaching holidays?
A wave crashed into her shins, and she shook the thought. She needed to let go of all this sympathy for him. The man didn't even remember ruining her life, and here she was planning his Christmas dinner. A dinner she couldn't even talk to him at.
She let go of thoughts of Eric Prince and turned back to her work. She was done with her sister's song. It had taxed her brain and her vocal patience. She decided to sing a song she'd written herself.
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