by Teagan Kade
It’s the sound that hits me first.
We sit on our boards at the corner of the break and watch. There’s a mild offshore breeze, a thunderous crash as the waves curl and pound into the rock and coral below. The water’s completely see-through, the reef watching on ominously.
It’s colder than I expected in the water, but it’s not the water temperature that has turned my nipples into arrowheads. It’s the nerves.
Deacon’s eyes seem to see through my wetsuit. He knows.
The sun shifts behind cloud, everything suddenly a little cooler and dark.
I watch the waves again, the hollow way they break. This is serious, Lux. You could really get fucked up out here.
Even Bo doesn’t look so convinced now that we’re waiting, poised at the edge. “You really sure about this, Hollywood?”
I nod with faux confidence.
“Okay,” he says. “I’m charging. Watch and learn.”
Bo paddles into the back of the break effortlessly. He just glides through the water, diamond pinpricks of light in his hair.
He paddles in and waits for the next set. I can actually feel the water surging below us, shifting and growing with instability. Dad and his pals called this place ‘the graveyard’. It’s also a great white breeding ground.
Bo sets it up perfectly, placing himself before paddling hard and fast, dropping down the face of the wave swiftly and drawing himself tight into the barrel. He tucks in and his brothers whoop and cheer behind me.
It’s a great ride. The lip bucks over his head thick as a concrete slab. He disappears and smashes out of the spray, fist-pumping the air.
I watch the other two follow. Razor lives up to his name, carving the water like a surgeon. Deacon almost comes unstuck on the drop-in but manages to pull it together and ride over the back before the close-out. He’s launched a solid six feet into the air.
Damn.
The trio paddle back. “Your turn, Hollywood.” Bo smiles, Deacon looks skeptical.
I’ll show you.
I take a deep breath of salt and brine.
I paddle into the impact zone.
The sound grows in my ears, the water churning and angry.
What are you doing, Lux? You’re out of your league here.
I push the inner critic away, try to dampen down the fear, but the closer I get, the more it rises up. I watch a wave break. The reef is exposed. It’s like the ocean has been sucked away completely.
I watch another form in the distance and start paddling. Here goes nothing, Dad.
It’s on me before I’ve even had time to register. I set myself up, but my board just drops away. I manage to get down on it, but everything’s disappearing, changing. I hurtle halfway down the face of the wave and know something’s wrong. The wave kicks out hard, a wall of water smashing into me. I go over the falls, trying to shield my head.
Shit.
I close my eyes and wait for the impact.
It comes like ten-ton hammer.
The water’s stone, compressing me down hard against the reef. I skim over the top spinning and rolling, trying to remain calm and hold my breath, but it’s terrifying, all sense of place and orientation lost.
I wait until the world stops moving and kick hard for the surface. I rise up spluttering, forced to dive back under as the set continues to pound through, the next wave crushing me back under.
I’m blown under the water again, feet looking for purchase and any sense of direction gone.
Again I surface and again I’m pressed under.
My lungs are hot, strained. I’m struggling for breath, to find the energy to get free again. Under and under I go, rolling, tumbling in the torrent.
Something firm wraps around my arm and pulls, but I’ve taken on too much water. The world becomes a pinprick.
Not like this.
I try to breathe, but I can’t, my lungs full.
The world slips away. Everything goes dark.
I open my eyes, hot lips pressed against my own. I see him, blurry, breathing into me.
My head snaps to the side. He holds it there as all the seawater and brine is ejected from my body.
I cough and splutter against the board, the taste of Sex Wax and salt in my mouth, eyes stinging and head numb. I’m shaking, conscious but caught in a strange limbo.
I dimly realize I’m in shock.
I can hear the break crashing in the distance.
It all comes back to me—the wipeout, the brothers now gathered above me like crows.
I’m so lost in the simple act of trying to breathe I haven’t even realized the top half of my wetsuit and bikini has been torn away completely by the reef. I’m more or less naked from the waist up.
Deacon throws a towel around me as I continue to convulse, brings me up into a sitting position while I shake and quiver.
“Fucking hell, you almost drowned out there!” he shouts, angry. Behind him Razor’s holding two sections of what used to be my board.
My throat’s hot and dry. “I… I don’t know what happened.”
“You wiped out, hard. That’s what fucking happened. I fucking told you. This break’s not for you.”
He doesn’t seem happy he just brought me back to life. He seems positively livid about it.
“Thank you,” I offer, throat scratchy and dry.
He points to the horizon. “You can thank me by flying back to fucking Hollywood.”
“I—”
Bo stands with his hands on his hips looking down at me. He speaks to Deacon. “You should take her to a hospital, bro.”
Razor laughs. “The nearest hospital’s a half-hour boat ride and two hours on the road after that. The town doc will have to do.”
Deacon stands in between his brothers, the three of them watching me. I’m just sitting on the board, knees to my chest, convulsions racking my body no matter how much I try to stop them.
Deacon shakes his head. The anger has dissipated, but he’s still not happy about it. “You know, I’d say you’re lucky to be alive, but luck’s got nothing to with it. I’ll take you back into town, get the doctor to look over you, but after that I suggest you find your way back to Hobart and a proper fucking hospital. The last thing we need out here is another dead kook who thought they were Kelly fucking Slater.”
CHAPTER TWO
DEACON
The doctor takes his stethoscope off Lux’s back. “You’re incredibly lucky, young lady. I can’t find any signs of distress in your lungs, or complications, but near-drowning is a very, very serious matter. I really think you should go to a hospital. I insist.”
I’ve met Cali girls before. Hell, I went through half the west coast when I was in my teens. Sex and surf wax—that sums up my adolescence. But this girl… stubborn, hard-headed, and yet still drop-dead gorgeous. She’s trouble. I turn myself sideways in the chair, cock stiffening against the crotch of my wetsuit. What you got for that, Doc?
She pulls the blanket tight around her shoulders. “No hospitals. I’ll be fine.”
“If it’s a matter of insurance…”
“I’ll be fine,” she continues.
The doctor, halfway to the grave himself, stuffs his hands into his pockets of his coat. “You’re going to need constant observation over the next forty-eight hours.” He looks to me. “I’m sorry. What relation are you?”
Relation. Ha. We couldn’t be more different this girl and I. “No relation. I was simply in the right place at the right time.”
Lux looks over her shoulder at me, eyes so blue and deep I could lose myself in them for all eternity. Maybe you should. Maybe it’s time.
No, not yet.
The doctor leans against the edge of his desk. “It’s Deacon, isn’t it? Deacon Hunt.”
Finke has a population of precisely ninety-nine people. Everyone knows everyone. We’re regular visitors to the Doc, the reef providing a constant stream of injuries. “It is.”
“Are you able to watch her, Deacon? She n
eeds care and observation.”
I look over her, the soft skin of her back. Observation—sounds like a dream come true.
You can’t.
I was planning a quiet weekend sinking beers and doing very little. Not babysitting Taylor Swift, though the thought of seeing more of her isn’t completely unappealing. “What do I need to do?”
“Watch for any signs of breathing difficulty, confusion, slurred speech… anything out of the ordinary, really. If her condition starts to deteriorate, call Royal Hobart Hospital immediately. They can send a chopper out. Don’t wait.”
I salute. “Yes, sir.”
“This is not a laughing matter, Mr. Hunt.”
Everyone is this town’s got it in for us, not that we haven’t given them reason. I nod.
He’s not done. “You do understand the seriousness of the situation, don’t you?”
That’s an understatement. “Hey, I saved her, didn’t I?”
Got you. “You did, and you should be commended, but please, watch her carefully.” He passes his card across. “Call me if you need anything.”
I snatch the card away and take Lux’s arm, pulling the blanket tighter around her shoulders. “Come on. Where are you staying?”
She’s trying to put on a brave face, but it’s clear she’s still a little fucked up, shaking like a leaf and weak.
She looks up to me with those ocean-blue eyes. “The motel down the road.”
I lead her to the door. “Not anymore.”
*
I place her bag down by the door while she surveys the lounge. “Wow, this place is impressive. How do you guys afford to live here?”
I’d hardly call this run-down four-bedder impressive, but it’s been home for a year now. Home enough anyway.
Razor pops his head up from the sofa, X-Box controller in hand. I’m glad it’s not something else. “What, we don’t look like we’re rich?”
Lux backpedals. “No, I wasn’t saying—”
Bo comes in from the kitchen with beer in hand, slaps Razor in the side of the head on his way through. “Don’t worry about this pin-dick. He hasn’t worked a day in his life. He wouldn’t even know what to do behind a desk.”
I place my hand on the small of her back and let it sit there longer than it should. She smells incredible, like the ocean, but also fresh and floral. “Come on. I’ll show you to your room.”
Razor lifts an eyebrow at that, Bo stopping to take a pull of his beer.
I point at them. “I’ll fill you assholes in later.”
I lead Lux to the guest bedroom down at the rear of the house overlooking the backyard and pool.
She stands by the window. “You have a pool?”
I lift her bag up onto the bed. “Only one in town. In summer the local kids jump the fence and use it every damn day. It’s too cold now, though.”
She turns to face me, brushing a strand of glossy hair behind her ear. “Look, I want to thank you for what happened out there.” Her voice is weak, strained.
I can’t help the asshole that takes over. He rises up and nothing I can do will quash him back down. “You shouldn’t have been out there, simple as that.”
She nods, eyes downcast, hand rubbing her arm. I want so desperately to pull her into my arms, breathe in her hair, taste her lips, but no. It has to be like this.
I knock the wall. “My room’s on the other side. Call out if you need anything. The bathroom’s down the hall, but we’re not exactly used to female company, so watch out. There’s food and drink in the fridge. Take whatever you want.”
“Thank you,” she says, eyes finding me, the way she’s backlit by the window is fucking angelic. She looks just like… Forget it.
“Why don’t you get some rest? I’ll check on you every half-hour, but you’re not dying on me, not after that.”
She smiles. “Wasn’t planning on it. I’ve still got a wave to ride.”
I lean against the doorframe and laugh. “You’ve got a death wish, but if you really want to ride Shipstern, maybe I can help. God knows why. But first, rest. Got it?”
She salutes. “Got it.”
I close the door quietly and press myself up against the back of it.
Just admit it. You’re fucked.
*
She’s fast asleep when I return an hour later. She has the covers pulled up around her neck, her hair a golden mess fanned out on the pillow. Her lips are parted, her breathing shallow. I don’t know why, but I reach down and brush my thumb across her cheek. She’s so soft, so fragile. It’s been a while since I’ve seen beauty like this. Stunners don’t exactly arrive in Finke often. Ninety percent of the population is over sixty-five. Any teenagers wise up real fast. There’s fuck-all to do in these parts and they’re quick to head to Hobart. I don’t care. I like it this way. No women. No complications.
I watch her sleep, the way air passes in and out of her lungs. I could slide under the covers, pull her to me. It’s been so long since I’ve had a warm body against mine, someone to hold. Maybe she’s what you need, my head repeats, cock twitching in agreement.
Yeah, like a stick of TNT.
But I know hooking up with Lux could only ever head in one direction. What am I going to tell her when she wants more? The truth?
It wouldn’t work. It can’t.
Pity.
I lean over and kiss her on the forehead, don’t even know why the fuck I’m doing it. I used to do it to Bo and Razor when they were younger, play the parent. I’d cop a hard left if I tried it now. I mean, I love the pricks, but it hasn’t been easy.
I speak to her prone form. “Sweet dreams, baby. Sweet dreams.”
After that, I check on her every hour. I’m not big on sleeping anyhow.
She barely moves. At times I have to kneel down and bring my ear to her lips to tell if she’s still breathing.
Come sunrise I head out into the kitchen and start cooking. If it’s one thing that gets the boys out of bed, it’s eggs and bacon fried well beyond what any reasonable cook would allow.
Razor’s the first out, scratching his nuts as he seats himself at the table, yawning. “How’s the guest?”
I flip over an egg. “Sleeping like a baby.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t pull those covers back, take a complimentary peek.”
I take the pan off the heat, flip the egg into the air with the spatula. Razor leans out with his plate, catching it before it hits the floor. “Fuck, man. What was that all about?”
“No one’s taking a ‘complimentary peek’.”
Razor picks up his knife and fork. “Fuck, protective much?”
“It’s only been twenty-four hours. She’s not out of the woods yet.”
He shoves a forkful of egg into his mouth. The guy eats like a fucking animal. “I know it’s hard given what happened with…”
I point the spatula at him. “Shut your mouth. Right now.”
He shrugs his shoulders. “Fine, fine. Hey, Bo and I were thinking about heading to the cove, see if we can catch something for dinner.”
“The only things you dimwits are going to catch is a cold.”
“And who made you the master fisherman, Captain Ahab?”
He’s got a point. We’ve got a boat, we’ve got all the gear, but in the year since we’ve been here you could count the fish we’ve actually caught on one hand. There’s an old bastard down the road who I swear doesn’t even need a rod. Probably reaches into the ocean and pulls them out with his bare hand. “You two enjoy. I have to stay here with Goldilocks.”
Razor winks. “Don’t let her see the big bad wolf you’re hiding in your pants. Wouldn’t want to scare her away now, would we?”
I toss another egg in his direction. He’s not ready for this one. It hits him right in the face before dropping down to his plate, yolk sloppy. “Just eat your fucking egg.”
*
The boys head out. The place always seems so quiet when I’m alone. We managed to get it for something of
a bargain, paid cash. The agent was pleased, didn’t press too hard on the background check, which worked in our favor.
It’s far from the Taj Mahal. The roof’s got water damage in some of the rooms, the whole place needs painting, but it’s cozy enough—for now.
I stand by the window and watch the ocean in the distance, can tell from here the swell is on the moderate side, the sets spaced out more than usual. It’s an art being able to read the water like this, a skill you can’t learn from a book or on the internet. Perhaps that’s what appeals to me most about surfing. You have to get out there to learn, get wet and physical. There are no shortcuts.
I check on Lux twice during the morning, but she’s silently asleep. The second time the quilt’s been pushed down around her knees, her panties—Hello Kitty, of all things—soft against the peachy round of her ass.
God, it’s been too long since I’ve seen this, seen an actual hot female. Pickings are slim around these parts. It’s not exactly ground zero for Miss World. I mean, hell, you go deeper into the bush and you can practically hear the banjos being plucked. This is remote Australia. In many ways it reminds me a lot of the deep south back home, the kind of place that attracts a certain darker element trying to get away from the greater world with its laws and morals and watchful eyes.
Isn’t that why you are here?
Maybe. I’ve done my best to make sure we’re as sheltered from the larger world as possible. We’ve got no internet connection, no cable. None of us have mobile phones, computers. There’s no need for any of that out here.
I’m making a sandwich come early afternoon when I hear movement down the hall.
“Lux?” I call out.
No response.
Shit.
“Lux!”
I run down to her room, burst in.
She’s standing there trying to get her wetsuit on, arms behind herself tugging unsuccessfully at the zipper.
I wedge my arm up into the corner of the doorway. “What the hell are you doing?”
She turns around, her bare back exposed and the top of her buttocks on show. “Can you zip me up?”
I come forward, try my very hardest to suppress the monster erection growing by the second. “I’m not helping you put that thing on. You’re supposed to rest. Doctor’s orders.”