“No.” He wasn’t thrown off by the question. It was almost as if he’d expected it. “I swear, Mykaela, I’m not.”
She laughed, a little out of relief, but mostly because she didn’t know how he expected to her to believe him, when every word that came out of his mouth was vague.
“It’s the truth.” He stepped forward, but she recoiled, backing against the door. He stopped, a wounded expression crossing his face. “I’m not killing anybody.”
“Then what aren’t you telling me?” she cried, exasperated with the game. “How did you end up on the beach, wounded?” She felt behind her for the doorknob. “Where were you staying the two months before that? Why are you even here?”
“Okay, just let me explain.” He raised his hands in the air as he backed away, giving her some space. “When I came to Harmony Harbor, I didn’t have a dime to my name. I came across a shack in the woods, and I moved in there.” He sank onto the edge of the bed and buried his face in his hands. “My family found me. There was a fight, and I wound up stabbed. They threw me into the water and left me for dead.”
Staring at him, she felt her suspicion and doubt fade to compassion. Even though her family was notorious for keeping secrets, she knew they’d never physically hurt her and she couldn’t imagine what it felt like to live without that security.
“I don’t know how I ended up on the beach.” He kept his head down as he raked a hand through his hair. “When your mom offered me the job, I figured it was better than sleeping on the ground.”
He looked up at her, catching her gaze again. He looked so hurt, so vulnerable, that it made the anger melt. “I know it looks suspicious, and if I were in your shoes, I wouldn’t trust me either. But I’m not the one doing this.”
She didn’t know why she believed him, but she did. Knowing what he’d been through, her problems and worries suddenly seemed insignificant. Unsure of what to do or how to apologize for forcing the story out of him, she sat down next to him and gently placed her hand on his shoulder. “I’m really sorry,” she whispered. “All of this is really getting to my head.”
“Don’t apologize.” He closed his eyes as her hand moved to caress his back. “You have a right to know.”
Chapter Ten
This Kiss
“Morrigan, it’s me.” Jared switched the phone to the other ear as he made a left turn with his squad car. “I haven’t heard from you in a couple of days, so I just wanted to call and…”And what? Make myself sound like the lovesick puppy she’s turned me into? “…see if you wanted to get dinner…or something. I’d like to see you,” Shut up now.“Call me.”
He stabbed the hang-up button on his cellular phone and tossed it into the passenger seat. The phone bounced off the edge of the seat and landed on the floor and he gripped the steering wheel tighter. Now he wouldn’t be able to reach it if she called.
He trailed his fingertips across the seashell necklace she’d given him. Morrigan wrapped him around her finger; he was willing to admit it. She was ignoring his calls again, and he couldn’t figure out why. Their relationship—if that’s what it could be called—was about to drive him crazy.
He’d ignore her when she called him next, wanting to show her how it felt to be strung along. He’d make her beg for him for a change. He’d just leave his phone in the car all day. That way, he wouldn’t have to torture himself by trying not to answer if she called him.
He came to the spot at the edge of the woods, where Brad asked to meet him. He could see his friend just inside the blanket of trees, kneeling down on the ground and messing with something.
Jared pushed his car door open and jogged to meet up with him. “Got your 911,” he said. “What’s up?”
Brad glanced up from amass of chains scattered on the ground. “The trap’s almost finished,” he said. He shook his head as he stood up, giving the pile of metal a swift kick. “I don’t know what good it’ll do—there’s no way we’ll get a mermaid into that thing.”
“Then, we’ll add bait.”
“What? Fish?” Brad glared at him as he walked a circle around the trap. “I don’t know about you, but there’s no way I’m sacrificing an innocent girl to catch a killer. The monster won’t fall for anything short of that.”
“Man, when was the last time you slept?”
“What?” Brad looked up from the ground, as if the question came out of nowhere. “I don’t know, why?”
“I just think maybe you’re being a little obsessive.”
“What else can I do?” Brad threw his hands in the air. “Tell me. How else can we stop this unless we work hard?”
“All I’m saying is you should take a little break—"
“A break?” He laughed—low, menacing chuckles. “Sure, and in the meantime, what? Just watch more people die?”
“It’s just…you’ve been working on this case nonstop,” Jared said. “You’d think more clearly if you—"
“Oh, I’m thinking clearly.” He bent and scooped the chains up in his arms.
“The only thing you can think about is revenge.”
He shrugged, shoving past Jared to go to his car. “Whatever keeps me going, right?”
Jared watched as Brad walked, his back straight and stiff, each step quick and calculated. “Brad, it’s a good way to get killed.”
Brad chomped down hard on his lip. “You and my dad, with your little speeches. I don’t care as long as I take this monster down with me.” He threw the chains into the back of his truck with a shower of clanking sounds. “What part of that do you guys not understand?”
“We want to stop this as much as you do,” Jared said, stepping up. Brad wasn’t really known for his self-control—half the time, he reacted first and questioned later. Over the years, Jared learned to accept it, but this obsession made him worry. He didn’t want to lose his best friend, and Brad didn’t seem to have any regard for his life any more. “You’re not going to be any good to us if you keep on like this.”
He scowled and rolled his eyes. “If you were going to be like this, why did you even come? Shouldn’t you be under that reporter chick by now, anyway? Oh, wait, I forgot. She ditched you.”
Jared felt like he’d been punched in the gut. That would have been less painful. He never should have told Brad how Morrigan deserted him all the time; having it thrown up in his face was humiliating. Laughing off the blend of embarrassment and pain, he walked back to his car. “Whatever, man. When you come to your senses, you know where I’ll be.”
“Yeah, I know exactly where you’ll be.”
Jared shot him a dirty look as he stooped into his car. Still, he couldn’t help himself; he grabbed the cell phone from the floorboard and checked to see if Morrigan called. She hadn’t.
***
“Mykaela, I said no and that’s final.” Blanche didn’t bother to look up from the dinner she was cooking.
“Mom, please.” She slid out of her chair and leaned against the counter. “I need to conquer my fears sometime.”
“And you pick now?”
“I’ve lived on the beach my entire life and I haven’t stepped a foot in the ocean in over ten years.” She sighed. “It’s not right. I need to do it.”
“No.” Blanche looked up, giving her a stern mother-look. “It’s just not an option, okay?”
“I just want to learn how to swim.” Mykaela tried the pouty lip—it always worked when she was younger. “It’s embarrassing that I don’t know how.”
“Mykaela Jane,” Blanche hissed, and Mykaela knew it was her final warning. Her mother only called her that when she was in trouble, and if she added the last name, she was as good as grounded.
Even knowing she was making her mother mad, she couldn’t control her anger or let the subject drop. She stomped her foot and let out an aggravated sound. “How long are you going to let your fears hinder my life? What happened to Dad was a horrible accident. But the ocean’s not to blame.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” For a second, Mykaela thought her mom might actually open up to her.
Blanche stopped chopping carrots in a harsh movement. She turned to Mykaela. “I said no. Ask me again and you’re grounded.”
She stared at her mother in disbelief. When Blanche wore that look, she meant what she said. Mykaela sighed and pushed off the counter, then went out the kitchen door and onto the wraparound porch.
She grabbed her hair in frustration as she leaned against the banister and looked out at the forbidden waters.
“I couldn’t help but overhear.” Dylan’s voice came from behind her. She turned to see him step around the side of the house.
“She’s totally unreasonable,” she complained. “I don’t want to be afraid for the rest of my life.”
“There’s something I want to show you.” He thrust his head toward the northside of the beach. “Take a walk with me?”
She followed him and they walked parallel to the ocean, over sand, rocks, grass. He kept his hands tucked into his pockets and his eyes straight ahead.
She wondered where they were going. She also wondered how much of the argument he’d heard, and felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment. Of all the people she didn’t want to know about her fears, Dylan was at the top of the list. He was pretty much the only one on the list.
The pink sun slipped behind the dark waters of the horizon by the time Dylan stopped at the entrance to a cave. The temperature dropped and a chilling breeze blew in from the ocean.
“I come here all the time.” He stooped to walk through the low entrance, and then stood back up again a couple of feet in. She followed him, feeling her heart race at the thought of being alone with him. Truly alone with him.
The cave was vast, with an opening at the top through which the full moon poured blue light down into the pool of water below. A ledge ran alongside the walls of the cave, enclosing the pond. On the opposite side, an opening led into the ocean.
“It’s beautiful,” she said, breathless.
“You can get to it from the land and the sea.” He walked along the ledge. “It might be the perfect place for you to learn how to swim.”
Suddenly, the calm water looked like a looming pool of death that struck terror into her heart. She couldn’t go in there, as much as she’d whined about facing her fears before. It was just too scary.
“Don’t be afraid,” he said, seeing her face pale and her arms crossed tight across her chest. “I’ll be right here.”
“I don’t have a swimsuit.”
“So wear your clothes.”
“Then Mom will know.” She could swim in her underwear, she supposed--although that seemed like something from a bad romance novel. It was the same as wearing a bikini, she reminded herself, and she’d gone with black instead of white, so it wouldn’t be see-through. Suddenly, she wasn’t nearly as afraid of the water as she was of being that scantily clad in front of Dylan.
Face your fears. Taking a deep breath, she pulled her tank top over her head and tossed it onto the ledge.
In a movement just as quick, Dylan turned his back on her. She reminded herself that this was probably a polite gesture, and not an insult. Dylan was just old-fashioned that way. She liked that about him.
“So, you promise you won’t let me drown?” she asked, unbuttoning her denim shorts.
“I promise. I’m the best swimmer you’ll find.”
“Good.” She wiggled out of her shorts. “Get undressed, or I’m going to start feeling skanky.”
He laughed. “Sorry.” He cleared his throat as he pulled his shirt over his head. His shoulder blades flexed against his muscular back as he brought his hands to the buttons on his jeans.
She knew it was rude to watch, but she couldn’t look away. She watched his shorts fall to the ledge, her eyes widening when his muscular legs tightened as he stepped out of them. He turned and raised his arms straight over his head, arching his back. Pushing off with his feet, he dove into the water.
She admired how gracefully he dove. He didn’t even hold his breath.
When he resurfaced, he swam to the edge, where she stood. “Okay. You’re going to need to ease yourself into it. Try putting your legs in first.”
She sat on the ledge, overly aware of her near nakedness. He glanced away from her, fixing his eyes on the water. For a second, she could’ve sworn she saw him try to look at her again.
Her cheeks flushed and her heart thudded, a constant hammering she was positive he could hear. She dipped her legs into the water. “It’s freezing.”
“You’ll get used to it,” he said. “Give it time.”
She kicked her legs back and forth, trying to ignore the temperature of the water. “I feel ridiculous.”
“You’re too hard on yourself.” He propped his elbows on the ledge next to her. “You shouldn’t be.”
She shrugged. “It’s a habit.” She looked down into the crystal-clear water. “So, you say you’re a good swimmer?”
“Yep.”
“How long have you been doing it?”
“A long time.” He pushed off the wall. “Are you ready?”
She nodded. “I think so. What do I do?”
“You trust me.” He moved in front of her, reaching his arms out. “I’ll do the rest.”
She rested her hands on his shoulders, agonizingly conscious of his grip around her waist. He lifted her off the ledge and eased her into the water. She tightened her arm around his neck. Her breath caught in her throat as the water crept over her torso.
He supported her weight, keeping her shoulders out of the water. “See?” He whispered, slipping his arm around her waist. “I’ve got you.”
She nodded, overcome with fear and desire. She wished she could read his mind and find out what he was really thinking. With Dylan, she never knew if he was interested in her or just being friendly.
He paddled his legs, propelling them a couple of feet away from the ledge. “You doing okay?”
“Yeah,” she said, her voice croaking out of her throat.
“I knew you could do it.”
She laughed. “All I’m doing is hanging on to you.”
“I don’t think you realize how big a step that is.” He smiled up at her. “Are you ready for the next one?”
“Yeah.”
He moved her in front of him, placing his hands on her sides. “We’ll start with floating. Just trust me.”
He placed a hand under her knees and brought them up so she was lying on her back. “Breathe like you normally would,” he said. “It’s important you’re relaxed. Now, spread your arms straight out. Like that. Don’t convince yourself you can’t do it. Mykaela, you’re holding your breath.”
“Sorry,” she laughed and tried to relax, taking normal breaths.
“See?” He beamed a proud grin. “You’re doing great.”
She couldn’t help but smile back at him. Suddenly, she was hypersensitive to the feel of his hand on the small of her back, and the other behind her knees, and his chest inches from her side. One of his hands slid up her spine in more of a caress than a gesture of support.
He let her go, no longer supporting her weight and she floated on her own. Suddenly, his eyes narrowed as his attention drew toward her chest. He reached out, his fingers feathering across the skin just beneath her bra. “What’s this?”
At his touch, she lost her concentration and her butt plummeted. His arms shot out and grabbed her, one hand under her shoulders and the other arm behind her knees. Her arms flew around his neck for safety.
She let out a sigh of relief. “That was scary.”
“I won’t let you drown” His expression lightened as he chuckled, the sound of it echoing in the cave. “Haven’t I proven that already?”
She locked eyes with him, shocked at how his mirrored the color of the water.
“What’s that mark?”
The mark. She’d forgotten about the handprint that’d been burned into
her skin. Wrapping an arm around herself, she covered it up. “That...that’s been there since you rescued me.”
“It has?” His forehead creased with worry and a slight hint of fear she didn’t understand.
“It’s pretty weird, I know,” she said. Seeing her opportunity to finally ask him about it, she took a deep breath and tightened her clutch on his shoulder. “Do you know why?”
He looked lost in his head somewhere, like he was drowning, but managed to shake his head. “No. I have no idea.”
She wanted to pull him back to her, drift his attention toward more positive things. She didn’t want him to retreat into the sulky, secretive shell. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Anything.” He gazed at her, as if she would disappear if he looked away.
“Why are you being so nice to me?”
“Because I get the feeling you deserve it.” His fingers spread against the small of her back. Lower, barely above a whisper, he said, “You deserve to have everything.”
She swallowed hard as her throat went thick. She wasn’t sure she’d have been able to speak, even if she’d been able to find the words.
***
He bit his lip, dying to tear his eyes away from hers. He couldn’t. Instead, an urge to kiss her overtook him. He could almost taste her; feel the satin-smooth lips against his cold ones. He longed to give into this urge, but he couldn’t get involved with her. Not unless she knew who he really was—that he’d caused that mark on her chest when he’d used his powers to start her heart again. If she knew, she’d probably run screaming from him and never speak to him again. Being in the water with her, being so close to her with so little clothing in between, was such a bad idea.
Soul of the Sea Page 10