Breaking Through

by King, D. Nichole

  Until rain pours down on us from clear skies.

  Nautia lifts her face to the lone dark cloud above us as she bites on the lip I regrettably let go of. “Sorry,” she says. Then she flips her palms up and closes her eyes.

  “Nautia, stop,” I say, threading my fingers with hers. Her eyes pop open, and she peers at me. “Let it rain,” I murmur. “It’s only water.”

  She shifts her weight, her gaze darting upward as if what she’s created makes her uncomfortable and she has to stop it.

  I wipe droplets off her cheeks. Kiss her again. “Let it go. Tell me about your nightmares.”

  Her eyes lower to our entwined hands. “It’s like they’re about Nate—at the same time, they’re not. I don’t know what happened to him, how he died, except…he—I—die in my dreams.”

  “You die?” I ask.

  “Yeah. It’s Nate, but I’m the one trapped. I’m the one dying.”

  “But Nate’s there, right?”

  Nautia shakes her head. “No. I’m alone.”

  “Then how do you know the nightmares are about him?”

  “I just know. I …I can feel it. Like”—her voice catches, and she swallows—“like it was me instead of him.”

  “In your dreams, Nautia, what exactly do you see?”

  “Um, I’m in a metal tube with my wrists and my ankles tied up. I can’t move, and it’s dark, so I can’t see. There’s a little window, though, and when they uncover the glass, sunlight streams in.”

  “They who?”

  “I don’t know. Whoever put me in there, I guess.”

  “Do you hear anything? Voices?”

  Nautia shakes her head. “No. Nothing.”

  “So, sunlight …”

  “I see it only for a little while, and then they drop the tube into ocean. I know it’s the ocean, because it calls to me. As the tube sinks, the sunlight fades, and water sprays inside. I panic. I fight the ropes. I do everything to free myself, but I’m stuck. I can’t do anything.”

  “What does the water do?” I ask, recalling the protective bubble.

  “Pours inside, all around me. I don’t know I can control it. At some point, I break the ropes around my ankles, but it’s no use. I’m a thousand feet under water.” She glances up at me, moisture making her eyes glisten in the setting sun. “I drown, Riley. Nate drowned in the one thing he was supposed to control. The one thing he had power over, and it killed him. The water killed my brother—killed me.”

  “Nothing’s going to kill you,” I assure her as I wrap her up in my arms again. “Not while I’m here.”

  “No one was there,” she sobs into my chest.

  “But I am now.”

  She’s quiet for a while, breathing into my shirt to calm herself. Like I hoped, like it had earlier this morning, the rain stopped when she opened up to me. Above us, the skies are clear as the sun sets in the horizon.

  Slowly, she lifts her head from my chest, her lips pulled taut. “Riley. The tube? I think it’s the North Korean torpedo. I think Nate was working with them…I think he gave them the formula.”

  The torpedo shakes again, flips on its side, and throws me against it. Between the force of the impact and the saltwater softening the ropes, the one holding my right wrist snaps free. Even though I’m gurgling water, I shove against the metal, kick, and push my head above the rising pool.

  I inhale, then choke and sputter. Suddenly, the tube rights itself. Grasping my chest, I cough. My lungs are on fire, and for a second I forget that I can untie myself. When I expel the water from my lungs, I tug at the last rope. Finally, I loosen it enough to yank myself free.

  I lean my head back into the blanket of water and breathe. The oxygen is so thin, and I’m probably inhaling carbon dioxide. I’m not sure if it makes a difference, though, since the tube is now half filled with saltwater.

  I have no idea what to do next. It’s not like there are latches I can open. Even if there were, I’d never make it to the surface. The amount of pressure alone this far under water would kill me. Plus, I can’t hold my breath long enough.

  Yeah. I’m screwed.

  Again, the metal around me creaks; it won’t be long before it too yields to the pressure.

  Now might be a good time to give up. Because my fate is inevitable.

  I’m going to drown.

  “Nautia. Wake up, Nautia!”

  I wake to see Riley sitting on the edge of my bed, shaking me. I gulp in air as if my lungs have been void of oxygen for minutes instead of seconds.

  “Nautia,” Riley repeats, helping me sit up.

  Leaning against the doorjamb is Haskal, and I suddenly wonder who showed up first. Riley had insisted we keep our relationship hush-hush for now. After he’d listed off the all of reasons why, I’d ended up agreeing with him. But now he’s in my room, at my bed, with his hands all over me. This secret won’t last long.

  I scoot away. “I’m fine,” I say, clutching my chest as I inhale. “Just a nightmare.”

  Riley’s jaw clenches like he wants to know what I dreamt. He also looks like he’s not a fan of dismissals.

  I glance at Haskal, waiting for him to move or say something. He doesn’t. He simply stares back.

  “Haskal, could you get me some water?” I ask to make him go away, and to remind Riley he’s there.

  “Can’t you handle that yourself?” he answers. “Create a little water ball?”

  “The air is too dry,” I tell him. “There’s not enough hydrogen floating around.”

  “I’ll take care of it,” Riley says, standing up. “You go back to your cabin, soldier. Thank you for your assistance.”

  Haskal’s eyes teeter back and forth between Riley and me. Teasing me about Riley being my boyfriend and seeing the two of us together are obviously two different things. “Yes, sir,” he says, and turns to leave.

  If he obeys, and I’m sure he will, he’ll probably lie back on his bed and listen in our conversation. So I get up, take Riley’s hand, and lead him out after I hear the click of Haskal’s door. I leave mine cracked open.

  I nod toward Riley’s cabin. We enter, closing the door quietly behind us.

  Riley holds out his arm to offer me his bed. I plop down, then I create a ball of water to coat the dryness of my throat.

  “I thought you said the air was too dry,” Riley says, smirking.

  “I lied.”

  I sip the water as Riley sits beside me. He wraps an arm around my waist and kisses my temple. “You sure you’re okay?”

  “Yeah. I’m fine.”

  “Why don’t you sleep in here tonight? I’ll watch over you.”

  “What about secrecy?”

  “I’ll go close your door. No one will know.”

  I hesitate. “Where will you sleep?”

  Riley points to the desk chair. It’s basically a wooden chair with a stuffed seat. Super comfy.

  “The bed of champions,” he says.

  “Or people with back problems.”

  Riley chuckles. “Yeah, that too. I’ll be all right. You get some rest.”

  Before I can protest, he stands and fluffs the pillow for me. I lie on my side, curling my legs up. I shouldn’t be surprised his mattress is as crappy as mine and the sheets just as stiff, but I am. I guess I figured he’d have captain-standard items with his pay grade.

  “What?” he asks.

  I peer up at him. “What what?”

  “That face you just made.”

  “Oh…it’s nothing.”

  Riley brings the blankets up over me. “Nothing is nothing. That was something.”

  I smile. It’s cute he wants to know. “The blankets. The mattress. The pillow. I expected top of the line stuff from Macy’s for Navy captains.”

  Riley runs the pad of his index finger over his lips
, his eyes brightening. There’s a mischievous glint in them when he leans over me, his lips grazing mine. I like this side of him. The playful side that sends electricity racing up my spine, making me shiver from his nearness.

  “All that’s in my other room,” he murmurs. Then he lowers his voice more. “Queen-sized bed.”

  “Really?” I croak out and have to clear my throat. “I mean: oh yeah?”

  Only one corner of his mouth rises into a grin. “You’ll have to check it out sometime.”

  I exhale, suddenly feeling light-headed. What I do next surprises me. “I don’t want to sleep alone.” I don’t say it because of his flirtatious words; I say it because it’s true. Tonight, I want him beside me. I can’t be alone in this bed.

  The smile turns less impish when he realizes I’m serious. “If that’s what you want.”

  I scoot over so I’m against the wall, and Riley tucks himself in beside me. It’s a tight fit in his extra-long, twin-sized, low-ranking, military-standard bed, but that’s what I hoped for. I still feel the chill of ocean water on my skin from the nightmare. This way he’s close, warming me.

  On our sides, we face each other. I gaze into glistening golden eyes. They’re as cold as metal when he’s a Navy captain, but now, as they peer back at me, their hardness has given way to moonlit waters.

  Soft fingertips glide down my cheek and slide loose locks of hair away from my face. I smile at the gesture, basking in the warmth of his touch. He grins back, holding my chin between his thumb and forefinger. As he leans in, I close my eyes. Since his kiss up on the deck, I’ve been longing for more. Replaying the moment so much so that before I fell asleep, I’d accidentally made it sprinkle in my room.

  Then he does it again. Riley’s lips press against mine, and all I want is to lose myself in his embrace. Cling to him and kiss him back like I’m a normal girl who can kiss a guy without creating a natural disaster in the process. I’m not a normal girl though, and even if our intimacy on deck stopped the downpour earlier, that doesn’t mean it won’t create rain now. I’m unpredictable, a liability, so I hold back. I fight the passion whizzing through my veins and making my heart double its beats.

  I start to pull away before I lose focus, but Riley hums against my mouth. He cups the back of my head and brings me closer. Gripping the small of my back, he pushes his body flush with mine, and I’m amazed at how every curve of me melds so well against every curve of him.

  I let out a moan I’ve kept lodged in my throat. The small release creates a domino effect. I thread my fingers through his hair, drawing him into me. His tongue separates my lips, and I happily accept. Heat pools in my lower belly, reminding me that this has gone too far. Riley could get hurt. The whole crew could get hurt.

  But instead of stopping, I glide a hand under his T-shirt to feel the warm skin beneath. Before I comprehend what I’m doing, I’ve pushed the material up his torso. He takes it from there and slips it over his head. This isn’t what I intended when I asked him to sleep with me. No, this is risky, exciting—and I love every second.

  I don’t return to his mouth. Instead, I work a trail of kisses down his chest to his happy trail. Riley groans, sliding his fingers into my hair and down my shoulders. He tugs at my tank top, yanking it off and tossing it onto the floor. Urgency wafts off him like steam. Raw desire burns in his irises, darkening them to a molten caramel. He does some combat maneuver I didn’t see coming, and just like that, I’m on my back and Riley is prowling over me.

  I need his lips on me. I’m desperate; I haven’t so much as kissed someone since Jax, and I’m craving every inch of tender flesh and hard muscle of Riley’s body. I reach up, hook my arms around his neck, and lower him to me. He doesn’t protest, devouring my mouth. He grabs my ass and squeezes. It’s so good that the slight lean of the room barely registers. Riley doesn’t seem to notice either. If it were a big deal, Riley’s a seasoned enough sailor he’d do something.

  I push my hips into him, arching my back. Riley’s palms glide over my breasts and round to my back. Ever since Haskal burst into my room the first time, I’ve taken to wearing a bra to bed. Apparently Riley has other skills he forgot to mention, because in less than two seconds he has it unhooked and on the floor.

  The ship sways the opposite direction, a little harder this time, and Riley’s desk chair skids across the floor. Thankfully, all the other furniture in the cabin is bolted down.

  I force myself to break the kiss. “Riley…”

  He doesn’t seem to hear me. I swallow as he moves down to my neck, to the swell of my breasts, and when he latches onto a nipple—

  Holy waterspout!

  Suddenly, I don’t remember anything. I don’t care about anything except what Riley’s tongue is doing as he sucks on me. Dazed, I lay my head back to enjoy the sensation that’s no longer focused in one area. I spread my legs and push my ache up against him.

  Familiar energy rises within me, shooting to my extremities and drowning out the heat. The hair on the back of my neck stands on end. A tidal wave crashes through my mind, and my eyes fly open.

  Knocking—no, pounding—on Riley’s door breaks us apart.

  “Captain Barton!”

  Whoever is on the other side has panic in her voice, and as Riley and I are thrown against the wall, I know why.

  “Shit,” Riley mutters. He shoots me a sidelong glance. Adjusts himself as he gets up, slipping a shirt on before he crosses the floor. I bring the sheet up to my neck and sink into the mattress. He opens the door a crack.

  “This storm popped up out of the blue. It wasn’t on the radar at all. Captain…” She lets the pause hang in the air for a second. “It’s a big one.”

  Riley’s no longer mine; he’s the captain. “Radio it in. I’ll be up in two minutes.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Captain Barton closes the door and turns to me. His stare meets mine for only a moment before he grabs a clean uniform from his dresser.

  “I’m sorry,” I murmur as he reaches for the doorknob.

  “Stay here. That’s an order.”

  I have Commander Sickles gather the rest of the crew as I analyze the scene. The ocean has come alive. Waves rise like fire then come crashing down. Black clouds mingle in the dark sky, illuminated only by the bolts of lightning racing into the angry waters. One strikes dangerously close the ship, and the generator switches off momentarily. Now is not a good time to lose power.

  As soon as the power flickers back on, I check the radar. There’s rotation in the skies. If a tornado descends upon us in this weather, Gibson might not have the juice to save us this time. Nautia created this storm, and if history is any indication, she doesn’t know how stop it. We’re going to have to ride it out.

  When the rest of my crew arrives, I dole out instructions. Ackley takes the bridge. I send Sickles to the lower decks to check the generator.

  “Commander Rogers, wake Gibson. We may need him,” I instruct.

  “Shouldn’t we be rousing Nautia instead, sir? She is an aquator,” Rogers says.

  “She doesn’t have the ability to take this on,” I reply. So far, it’s the truth, even though I know that deep down she’s got the power. What she creates, she can also destroy.

  “With all due respect, sir, Admiral Melene handpicked her because she’s the most powerful aquator in the world,” Rogers pushes.

  I rotate to face him. “And with all due respect, Commander, I gave you an order and I expect compliance.”

  “Yes, sir,” he mumbles, salutes me, and leaves.

  True, Admiral Melene had handpicked Nautia for this mission for that very reason, but he’d also seen her file. He’d known her struggles, yet he’d demanded her presence anyway, even after I’d expressed my concerns.

  “She’s not ready,” I’d said. “Not for something like this.”

  “What other option do you h
ave, Captain?”

  “A chemist. Military. They could just as easily get the information and run the tests.”

  “Not so, Captain Barton, not so. An aquator is not only beneficial, it’s necessary. And that it’s Nautia Olson is essential. It has to be her.”

  “Sir—”

  “Consider that an order, Barton.”

  And now, because of the admiral’s orders, my whole crew is in danger of being swallowed up and taken down to Davy Jones’ locker. Because I sure as hell am not going to blame this on Nautia, not when Melene clearly knew the risks of having her on board. Not to mention Kray warned me about getting physically close to Nautia. I should have known better.

  Goddammit!

  I shut off all of the engines and switch to manual. It won’t help much, but at least we won’t have blown engines. We’ll end up wherever the storm wants us. We’re fucking sitting ducks out here.

  “Captain,” Ivan says, running inside. “We’re all set, but it would be nice to have some extra hands.”

  “Get Haskal, Britta, and Kray.”

  “Britta, sir?”

  “She can earn her keep.”

  “What about Nautia and Gibson, sir? We could use everyone out here.”

  “Rogers is already rousing Gibson. Leave Nautia,” I instruct.

  Ivan opens her mouth, probably to give me the same insubordinate argument Rogers had. I don’t want her opinion; I want her obedience.

  “Go!” I shout before she rattles off what I’m not in the mood to hear.

  She runs out just as Sickles rushes in. Commander Sickles heads straight for the controls and begins flipping switches.

  “Generator’s at full power, sir,” she informs me. “Winds coming out of the east at fifty-seven miles per hour. Gusts at eighty.”

  “Keep her facing east,” I say.

  “Yes, sir.”

  Waves crash into the sides, tipping the Triton to one side, then the other. This is no rollercoaster ride, especially when a tornado shoots from the sky not a hundred feet away.