Summer's Last Breath (The Emerald Series)

by Kimberly James

  I disabled the alarm system and scooted out the back door. I saw Jamie, a large dark silhouette, pacing at the end of the dock. He came up short when he saw me. I self-consciously tugged at my shirt, though it was a veritable tent. I’d forgone wearing a bra and Jamie would just have to deal with it. His bare chest gleamed with residual moisture from his swim over, making his skin look slick and smoothly touchable under the faint glow of the single lamp mounted on the dock. It still amazed me how fast he could get here, but I refused to be impressed.

  I made my way down the dock, and despite my lingering annoyance, I smiled at the way he carefully kept his eyes on my face.

  “You must think I’m an idiot,” he said.

  I stopped a few feet away from him and stared. “One of the nicer in the mix of names I called you on my drive home.” I crossed my arms to keep myself from reaching for him. There was a sadness in his eyes as he studied my face, like he was the one who’d been wronged and rejected.

  The air was still, and the night was quiet, and my heart thudded as I waited for him to say something. When he did, it wasn’t the apology I was expecting.

  “After my dad died…" He breathed in deep. “I was in a bad place for a while, trying to keep it together for my mom, for Noah. I went out one night.” He ran his hands through his hair and closed his eyes. “Some bar on Pensacola Beach where I knew a lot of the Navy guys hung out. I was spoiling for a fight. Thought I’d get drunk first, even the odds up a little even though I wasn't nearly old enough to be drinking. Group of locals took me up on my offer, but evidently, I wasn’t wasted enough, because it took me about fifteen seconds to lay four of them on the ground, one with a broken nose, one with a broken wrist. The other two weren’t getting up anytime soon.”

  I watched as his lips quirked in a derisive smile, wondering where this story was heading and what it had to do with what happened on the beach.

  “It turned into a game. The bar was full and these guys knew what I was and most of them had been drinking themselves dumb. And I was asking for it, almost daring them to mess with me, and most of them were out to prove something. They would have worn me down eventually, but one of them pulled a knife. I had the guy in a choke hold and his hand came up, and I don’t know if he was aiming for them or not, but the blade sliced across my gills behind my left ear.” His hand unconsciously slid to his his neck and he laughed, though it sounded more like a snort.

  “I dropped like a stone, taking the guy with me. I was already pretty bloodied—my hands, my lips—and blood was dribbling down my neck and into my eyes. And it hurt. Like someone was holding a hot poker behind my ear. Before I could get up, a gang of them converged on me, kicking me in the ribs and back and head. All I could feel was the burning behind my ear.”

  “What happened?” I asked, my mind wincing at the thought of him on the ground, being pummeled by so many pairs of feet, understanding the target he’d made of himself.

  “I quit fighting, and after a few minutes, it stopped. I was laying on the floor, breathing heavy, tasting my own blood, when a hand on my shoulder brought my head up.” Jamie looked down at me, his eyes so pale they looked silver in the meager light. “It was Donovan.

  “I don’t know how Donovan knew to call Marshall, but he showed up fifteen minutes later. He took me out to the beach and sat me down and gave me this lecture about how I should know better than to start a fight with landers, how I could have broken that guys neck, how my dad would be disappointed. That I was pissing my talents away. And then he offered me a place on his team. They could use someone like me. And I said, ‘What, a fool?’ And he said, ‘No. A warrior.’

  “I didn’t feel much like a warrior. I felt guilty and my gills were still on fire so I told him to screw off.”

  My eyes widened and Jamie laughed at my horrified expression. I couldn’t imagine telling my dad to screw off.

  “Yeah, because apparently I wasn’t done being an idiot. I was just more private about it after that, but I eventually got my head on straight and went to see him. And well, here I am.”

  “Yes. Here you are.” And even though I was glad he’d told me about that night and my dad’s involvement, I wasn’t sure why he had and told him so.

  “Marshall helped me out. He gave me a purpose when I needed one. He expects things of me and I don’t want to disappoint him, but that’s unavoidable now because I can’t stay away from you. I don’t want to.”

  “Then don’t. I know I’ve said this before, but I mean it now. We’ll talk to him.” I reached for him, running my hand up his arm.

  “I’ll get you wet,” he protested when I pulled him toward me.

  “I don’t care," I managed to say before he leaned in and kissed me. It was a sweet kiss, just the press of his lips but no less potent. Then he pulled me to him and held me tight, burying his face in my neck.

  “I’ve never felt this way about anyone, and it’s making me kind of nuts.” His arms circled around me and he picked me up. I wrapped my legs around his waist. His shorts were damp and cool against my bare thighs.

  “Sorry,” he said a little sheepishly as the evidence of his desire grew thick between us. “I can’t help it. It’s you.”

  I pressed my forehead against his, my fingers linked behind his neck. Being in his arms was like being held by a tree. He was so solid and strong. I felt like a bird, fragile and protected.

  “It kind of amazes me you want me,” I whispered, lips grazing his.

  “Well, I do. And what you said on the beach,” his voice was gruff, “didn’t help by the way. But I’m not expecting that, Erin. This isn’t about sex. I like you.”

  “I like you too,” I said, uttering the world’s biggest understatement. My mouth dove toward his kiss.

  “When?” he asked, a few breathless minutes later.

  “He’s asleep right now. Tomorrow. I promise.”

  I dove in again, loving the softness of his mouth, the hard planes of his muscles under my hands. I let my legs drop from his waist, thinking it wasn’t a good idea for our bodies to be so close. He was too tempting. I could still feel the heat coming off him standing an arms length away.

  “Erin.”

  Jamie stiffened at the sound of my dad’s voice. His hands were still on my hips and his fingers squeezed once before he let them fall away. The muscles in his jaw tightened, and when our eyes met, his were resolute. He nodded and wrapped his hand around mine, solid and reassuring, and we turned to face my dad together.

  “Dad.” My voice only quivered a little. He stood in the grass, backlit by one of the lights mounted in a tree behind him.

  His gaze dropped down to our linked hands. It wasn’t so dark that I couldn’t see the hardness of his expression, the way his eyes narrowed as they focused on Jamie, the disappointment. I didn’t think it mattered Jamie was something else, something bigger and stronger. My dad was going to kill him. At least he wanted to.

  “I want you to go to your room.”

  “Dad, we should talk about this first.”

  “Erin. I said go to your room.” The coldness of his voice sent a chill up my back. My heart thumped wildly, but I rebelled at the command. I wasn’t a little girl anymore. He couldn’t just send me to my room.

  “With all due respect, sir. I think we should—”

  “Respect?” My dad’s voice cut Jamie’s words like a knife. His blue eyes positively glowed with checked anger.

  “Yes, sir,” Jamie said, not backing down an inch, with a hint of defiance in his tone.

  “If this is your definition of respect, maybe I overestimated you, Jacobs. Now let go of my daughter’s hand.”

  As if that would make a difference. As if Jamie’s grip was all that was holding me to his side in disobedience.

  “Dad,” I started, eager to plead our case.

  “Erin Cassidy Shaw,” he said, using my whole name in what had to be the first time ever, as if I needed reminded who I was. “You heard me.”

  I looked up
at Jamie, asking his permission.

  “Jesus,” my dad mumbled.

  Jamie nodded and my hand slipped from his. He said softly, “Go. It’s okay. I’ll talk to him.”

  I took a few steps and paused when I was nearly even with my dad, tilting my face toward his. He didn’t immediately look at me, keeping his eyes firmly on Jamie as though if he looked away for one second, Jamie would disappear. When he finally dropped his gaze, what I saw there made me sad—the look of the unavoidable. Unavoidable disappointment for Jamie and the unavoidable consequences of me growing up and defying him.

  “Dad, I…” I what? I love Jamie? Was that what I’d had been about to say? “I care about Jamie.”

  “Go to your room.”

  I walked back to the house, fighting tears.

  * * *

  I didn’t quite make it to my room. I sat at the top of the stairs and was a little surprised when I heard them come inside. Though I supposed it made sense my dad would want to reprimand Jamie in his office, away from the water where he was the undisputed authority. They closed the door behind them and I uselessly strained to hear what my dad was saying. My dad wasn’t the type to raise his voice. Yelling was beneath him, and showed a lack of control, and he prided himself on staying in control. He had a way of conveying the importance of things without the use of volume. So I was left wondering and guessing. The most I could discern through the door was who was speaking at any particular moment. Other than that it was all mumbled droning. They went back and forth for a few minutes and then my dad said something and they both fell silent. The whole house was still and the hairs on my arms stood on end. The office door clicked open and light flooded the hallway. I rose and padded my way down the stairs, but by the time I got to the foyer Jamie had left through the front door.

  My dad was still in his office. Taking a deep breath, I went to confront him. The door was cracked and I knocked softly before pushing the door the rest of the way open. He was sitting in his chair, elbows on his desk, fingers steepled under his chin. His thinking pose.

  “What did you say?”

  “Not that I owe you an explanation, but Jamie’s been suspended from the team until I decide what to do.”

  “What do you mean?” He couldn’t kick him off the team, could he? I stepped up to his desk, resting my hands on the smooth wooded surface. “You can’t do that. It means too much to him.”

  "Apparently not enough. He gave me no choice. This isn’t a game. Those exercises you watch aren’t preparing these boys to play a game. They will most likely face difficult life and death situations. Situations you can’t even imagine. It’s vital they trust each other. That they respect each other. That they play by the rules. Jamie broke the rules, and by doing that, he’ll lose his teams respect. He can’t go unpunished.”

  “Dad, that’s not fair.”

  “You’re right. He should be out for good. That would be fair. I’m not sure you’ve really thought this through or considered what the consequences would be for Jamie. Frankly, I’m disappointed in you, Erin. Not only for the position you’ve put Jamie in, but me as well.”

  Tears burned my eyes. He was right. I was selfish. I’d wanted Jamie for myself and now he was paying the price.

  “I’ll end it. You don’t have to punish him. No one else has to know,” I said, knowing it was too little too late.

  “I know. And Jamie knows. And as far as it ending, it’s over,” he said with finality.

  “Are you forbidding me to see him?” I set my back, jaw clenching, heart breaking.

  “Yes. I thought that was clear.”

  “If it was Donovan or Lassiter, would you still be acting like this? Forbidding me to see him?”

  He rose from his chair, fixing his gaze on me. “Do I really need to answer that?”

  No. It had been a stupid accusation, one fueled by panic and defiance. My shoulders slumped. Maybe if Jamie and I had come to him in the beginning, we could have persuaded him to loosen up on his rules. But now, my dad would stand his ground, if only on principle. The question was, would I, knowing deep down that my dad was right?

  “I love him, Dad.” I blinked back the sting of tears. Tears wouldn’t get me anywhere with my dad. Not with this.

  “I know you think you do, but you’re only sixteen.”

  “I know what I feel. I don’t know what age has to do with it. I know I love Mom. I know I love you and I know how I feel about Jamie.”

  “Though I’m disappointed as hell, I love you too. But that has nothing to do with the situation at hand. This is business. Jamie willfully disobeyed a direct command. You did too for that matter. I’m done talking about this.”

  He didn’t voice it. His eyes said it all. I was dismissed. I’d seen him in action enough to know that. I stalked for the door, stopping before I left, leaving him to his rules and disappointment. “I won’t stop to seeing him.”

  “We’ll see about that.”

  Chapter Eleven

  I sat in art class, resting my chin on my book bag, waiting for Noah to arrive.

  Eighteen hours had passed since I’d stood, hand linked with Jamie’s, defying my dad. Eighteen hours since Jamie had left without a word. In other words, the worst eighteen hours of my life.

  I was worried. I knew Jamie was upset, and possibly angry at me. I couldn’t live with him being angry with me. I’d felt nothing but hollow since running down the stairs, hearing the door click shut, and realizing Jamie had left without saying goodbye. I also felt a little foolish.

  I’d told my dad I loved him.

  The tardy bell rang, and before my heart could sink further into this unfamiliar territory of despair, Noah burst through the door, sliding onto the bench beside me, bringing the smell of a hot summer day with him. I missed Jamie’s smell already.

  “Made it,” he said, expelling a relieved breath. “Mr. Foley is threatening detention if I’m late again.”

  “You’re such a hoodlum.”

  “I try.” He winked and plucked his charcoal pencil from behind his ear, loosening his long strands of hair. They fell over his cheek in a gentle wave, obscuring his profile.

  “Here, Pretty Boy.” A rubber band popped Noah in the back of the head and fell to the floor.

  “Grow up,” I said, turning to glare at Derrick over my shoulder.

  “What?” he asked, his full cheeks flushed, his stare insolent. “No telling what lives in that mess.”

  “Ignore him,” Noah said, bending over his manilla paper, using the edge of his pencil to sketch the beginnings of a wave. I didn’t want to think about the beach, because it only made me think of Jamie, not that he wasn’t in my mind all the time anyway.

  “How’s Jamie? Did you see him last night?”

  “Not getting involved,” Noah said, keeping his eyes glued to his work.

  “So you did see him. Did he tell you what happened?”

  He paused in his sketch and set his green eyes on me. “I’m not getting involved. Not taking sides.”

  “I just want to know if he’s okay.”

  “So text him,” he threw at me, “or call.”

  “I did,” I said, sounding slightly pouty. “He won’t respond.”

  “Sorry,” he said. A pelican took shape in his drawing, flying low over the ocean. The speed at which he could make his picture come to life was breathtaking. He smirked. “You want me to beat him up for you?”

  “Maybe I’m the one who needs beating up. I handled this all wrong.” Noah was making me see the situation more clearly without even trying.

  “Jamie was mildly irritated last night. Then he left and I haven’t seen him since.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He never came home. But that’s not unusual. He doesn’t sleep in his bed much.”

  “Where does he sleep?” I laid my head back on the table. A nap sounded good right about now. I felt totally drained and not at all happy Noah was being so infuriatingly unhelpful. Why wasn’t he more concerned?<
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  “The beach. The Deep. Not at all.” Noah cut his eyes at me and sighed. “He’s not big on being indoors. Drove my mom and dad nuts when he was a kid.”

  That I believed. Jamie possessed an unrestrained nature, which had drawn me to him from the beginning. A true wildness, a wandering spirit, a soul that refused to be tamed.

  “My dad suspended him from the team,” I said dejectedly.

  “I know. I overheard him and my mom arguing about it.”

  “Oh God,” I groaned. “Now she must hate me.”

  This whole situation was getting messier by the minute. We were both at odds with our parents. I hadn’t meant to cause trouble for him, especially not with his mom. He’d taken the suspicion hard, of that I had no doubt. But I wasn’t ready to give up. We wanted to be together. I didn’t get why that was such a big deal.

  My eyes were slowly starting to close when Noah nudged my foot. I peered at him, brows furrowed. He subtly jerked his chin toward the supply cabinet against the wall. What I at first thought was a mouse skittered from under the cabinet, scuttling its way under Derrick and Tyler’s table. It was a palmetto bug. A big one. Black and hideous, the sight of which caused me to shiver. Another one silently followed, like a tiny ninja, and I sat up, biting my lip to ward off a grin.

  “You didn’t,” I said out of the corner of my mouth. “Did you?”

  Noah possessed a particular talent. Don’t ask me how or why, but he was the Dr. Dolittle of marine creepy-crawlies, a crustacean whisperer. I had assumed it only worked with aquatic insects, but maybe I was wrong, and delightfully so.

  “What the…” Derrick vaulted from his seat, knocking the table over. The big bad football player screamed like a little girl, drawing the attention of the whole class. Spinning around to witness the debacle, I had to cover my mouth to keep from laughing out loud. Derrick danced around the room, grabbing at his pant legs. His hands flew to his belt buckle, and in a matter of seconds, his pants were down around his knees, the two creepies scuttling up his hairy legs and toward his whitey tighties. Derrick’s face flamed, eyes flaring. He swatted the bugs away, which provoked another round of chaos as Charlene, along with a couple of other girls, jumped on the bench. Lots of squealing and hyperventilating ensued.