Hard Dive (Paradise Lost Book 2)

by Megyn Ward

  Turning, I start to walk away, half relieved and half heartbroken that he’s letting me.

  I’m ending us and he’s letting me.

  My heart takes a fluttering jump at my throat when I feel his hand close over my arm. He spins me around and I’m suddenly staring up into the most beautiful face I’ve ever seen.

  He’s angry.

  I hadn’t counted on that. That he’d be angry.

  Fight for me.

  “You forgot your soda.” He pushes something cold and wet into my hand, but he doesn’t let me go. He pulls me closer. So close I have to crane my neck to look up at him. “You win, Kylie.” He says it quietly, giving me a quick smile that looks more like a grimace. “I’ll leave. But when you call me—and you will call—I’m going to answer and when you ask me to come, I’ll be here before you have time to hang up the phone.” His fingers tighten around my arm, almost hard enough to bruise. “Because I’m not your father and I’m not going to abandon you—no matter how much you want me to.”

  Then he lets me go and walks away.

  Twenty-Two

  Kylie

  Marie looks pale but says she thinks they’ll release her soon. She might not have the extended family of Wanda, but plenty of friends and family filter in and out. Between the heated domino games, the laughter and sometimes singing, the women’s health issues seem more an excuse for a party than anything to worry about.

  Diana wakes briefly a couple of hours later. By now, I’ve recovered my equilibrium and my determination. I’ve been listing all the ways Zach isn’t good for me. He comes from a different world. He doesn’t understand the way most of us work for a living. He has no ambition. He thinks the idea of a job is lounging around in front of television cameras. He has a girlfriend.

  I’m not your father and I’m not going to abandon you—no matter how much you want me to…

  Sure, he might say Liesa is only his girlfriend when the camera rolls, but I’ve seen them kissing on screen.

  I didn’t mean to watch Liesa’s Life. I just happened to have been on TV one afternoon. I swear I didn’t flip channels looking for it. Not more than a few, anyway. Watching it was like peeling skin from a sunburn. I knew I shouldn’t do it. I understood that it would sting for a long time afterward. And yet, I sat on the couch and watched the whole fucking episode. Saw them drink cocktails by her infinity pool and gaze into each other’s eyes and then the kiss. It lasted long enough for me to travel through a fiery hell of jealousy.

  He’d closed his eyes and an intense and passionate look took over his face. He couldn’t fake that.

  Liesa is right, Zach belongs in the world he’s been born to. A world where I’ll never fit.

  When Diana opens her eyes and sees the walls of the hospital, the beds next to her and me hovering over her, she registers confusion. When she tries to speak, she winces at the pain in her scabbed lips. I watch as memory filters in her head and she closes her eyes again, tears leaking down the sides of her face to the white pillowcase.

  I lean in. “It’s okay.”

  Her head wags slowly and her tongue inches out to dab at the split. “No.” She whispers. “It’s not okay. It’s never going to be okay.”

  I take her hand, careful not to tug or squeeze too hard. I don’t know what injuries thrum in her skin and bones. “Blake and I are going to take care of you.”

  A lump travels down her throat and I reach for the sweating pitcher of water on her bedside table. The thin trickle sounds like a waterfall as it fills the plastic cup. I stick in the bendy straw and hold it to her lips. “Here. Drink some water.”

  She opens watery eyes ringed like a raccoon and focuses on me as I hold the straw. Gingerly, she draws in a sip.

  My hands shake with the awful memory of doing this for Mom. Of her bloodless face, her body nothing but bones in sallow skin. At the end, her eyes dilated with the morphine they pumped into her to stop the pain.

  I know how to be strong for someone else. And that’s what I’ll do for Diana. “You’re going to have to stay here for a couple of days to make sure the surgery went well. After that, Blake and I will be your nurses at home. We’re not trained, but we are devoted.”

  Her mouth starts to spread into a smile but when it pulls at her sores, she stops. “Thank you. I’m so sorry.”

  “Hey, you didn’t do this to yourself.”

  She closes her eyes as if feeling the pain again. “It was awful. But I’ve been hit my whole life.”

  I inhale against the awful truth. Mom never hit me, not even a spanking. No one has ever raised a hand to me in anger. “Oh, Diana...”

  She glances away, the best shrug she can give with the bandages and wrap strapping her left arm to her side to keep the broken collarbone stable. “I can take a beating, but… he was going to take care of me forever. He promised.” Tears again, running unchecked to wet the pillow. “It’d all be worth it when I got to California and had a house on the beach. Money and nice things.”

  With as soft a touch as possible, I push her tangled hair from her face. “You’re so much better than you think you are.”

  A sob escapes her. “No one believes that buy you.”

  “Blake believes it. You’re so smart, Diana. You got yourself to Cayman when no one in your family has ever left Georgia. You can tally bar tabs in your head, calculate tax and tips without hesitating. You can remember a whole bar worth of drink orders without writing anything down.”

  The tears haven’t stopped. “Not exactly valuable skills.”

  “We’re still young, Diana.” I stroke her hair. “We’ll figure out a way to go to school. You can get your undergrad and I’ll get my CPA. We’ll open an investment firm. We’ll take care of ourselves. We don’t need anyone but each other.”

  She closes her eyes again. “I’ll never be able to go to college.”

  My heart breaks at her defeat. “Yes, you will. I won’t let you quit. Blake won’t, either. We’re a family. We’ll stick together. The three of us. We’re going to build a bright future. Believe it.”

  She opens her eyes and searches my face, looking deep enough to detect a lie. The weird thing is that I started out simply trying to give her hope, making it up as I went along. But somewhere along the narrative, I begin to believe. By the time I lay it out for her, I’m on board.

  Excitement begins to build. “We’ll get you healed up. I’m taking your shifts at The Frog. We can start looking for scholarships and grants. I might have some contacts at Harebridge and maybe we can be resident advisors or something to help. We can do this, Diana. A few years of hard work and we’ll get there.”

  Her eyes take on a gleam that eggs me on. “We can do this. We’re smart and we know how to work hard.”

  She finally smiles, more with her eyes than her ruined mouth. “Okay,” she whispers. “You’ve convinced me.”

  She drifts back to sleep and I pace the small room. Families of the other two women crowd around. They pepper me with questions, tease and generally share their jovial spirit. They seem determined to adopt Diana and me into their big, happy group. They bring jerk chicken and wonderful vegetable concoctions they insist I share. I haven’t eaten this well in ages.

  I look at Diana, her face bashed in, bruises on her arms and legs, her life in danger. She risked so much for the hope that someone will take care of her. I’d exposed myself to rejection and pain because I wanted Jonas’s help. Zach is stuck in a deplorable situation because he wants that big pile of money promised to him.

  Like Mom wanted, I’ll build a new life and run it the way I want. Whatever it takes, I’m going to make it without help. And I’ll drag Diana along if I have to. We’re going to do this for ourselves. No more plotting to get someone else to take care of us. If we don’t depend on anyone, then no one can’t hurt us.

  Twenty-Three

  Kylie

  Another day passes and I worry that Diana doesn’t seem to be getting any better. Marie’s developed some kind of infection a
nd she hasn’t been released, either. Nothing seems to be going well.

  Wanda’s and Marie’s families have spent so much time together they’ve become one. Quiet chatter highlighted with occasional laughter creates ambient noise in the room. They keep an eye on us and I love every one of them. They’re free with their hugs and kisses for me.

  I try to cheer Diana up with a story of Timothy, the bartender and manager, throwing some drunk college kids out of The Green Frog. I barely earn a smile before she closes her eyes and falls asleep again. I don’t know if she really needs all this sleep to heal her body or her heart.

  The next time she wakes, I ask her what I’ve been dreading. “Tell me what happened.”

  She takes a sip from the straw I hold to her lips. “I just want to forget it.”

  “I know.” To be honest, I don’t want to know. “But we can’t let Don get away with this. What’s his last name so I can at least get the cops to detain him?”

  She closes her eyes. “Don isn’t even his real name.”

  “Doesn’t matter.” I’m determined now. I’m not letting this go. “I’ll track him down through his parents at the Blue Heron.”

  “No, you won’t.” She opens her eyes and stares at me, those gorgeous mahogany eyes so full of hope now looked lifeless. “That’s why he did this to me. He was waiting to catch a taxi to the airport. He was flying out and we were making plans for when he’d bring me to California. Just being playful, I grabbed his passport and flipped it open. I barely had time to realize he’d lied to me about his name when he grabbed it back and started to hit me.”

  I flinch at the thought of his fists bashing into her beautiful face, creating those awful bruises, the blood vessel broken and spider-webbed red in her right eye.

  Her voice cracks but she keeps talking. “I only saw his last name was something Eastern European, full of consonants. I’d have had to study it to pronounce it or remember it.”

  I hold the straw to her mouth again and wait while she sips. “That son of a bitch.”

  “Between the punches and kicks, I figured out he wasn’t here with his parents. He lied about it all.”

  I set the water down, instead of throwing it into the wall like I want to do. “I’m so sorry.”

  A little of the old Diana flashes in her eyes. “You tried to tell me, but I was so stupid.”

  I shake with rage. There’s nothing we can do. No way to get justice for Diana. Fucking Don Fucker with no name is already on his way back to wherever he came from, almost certainly not California.

  With as much tenderness as possible, I push her hair from her forehead. “That asshole broke you and stole something from you. I can’t fix it. But I won’t leave you. Blake and I will help you get better.”

  She closes her eyes and tears creep out the corners to slide down her face to her hairline. I pat them with a tissue until they stop and her breathing evens out.

  “Ms. Sawyers?” The voice startles my contemplation of Diana’s bruises.

  I wipe eyes scratchy with fatigue and clear my throat. “Yes?”

  A tall, wiry man the color of night, wearing all white, dips his head toward me. “I am here to collect you.”

  Collect me? That’ll be a trick since I feel scattered as wide as the ocean.

  “Mac?” Wanda’s oldest son hurries from her bedside.

  The Collector’s grin broadens. “Nelson. What’cha doin’ here, man?”

  Nelson grabs Mac’s hand and drags him to Wanda’s side and the whole congregation breaks out in rapid-fire island patois. This goes on for some time before Mac breaks away and steps toward me.

  I feel as though he’s left a few holes in the message. “Who sent you to collect me and why?”

  His grin is equally as warm for me as it was for Wanda’s family. “Jonas Knightly sent me but I couldn’t tell you why.”

  Jonas Knightly? Why would he want me?

  It’s curiosity that has me checking my phone for the time. Blake will be here in a couple of hours. Diana will probably sleep that long. From spending all those hours with Mom in the hospital, I’ve developed a fear of leaving someone I love in the hospital without supervision. I stand and speak to the driver. “Just a sec.”

  I approach Marie’s sister, the one who makes wonderful fried plantains. “I need to take off for a little bit. Our friend will be here to stay with Diana soon. Can you keep an eye on her until then?”

  Kisses and hugs and pats and curious glances at Mac accompany the message that yes, of course, they’ll take care of Diana, but am I sure I’ll be okay?

  I assure them I’ll be fine and that I’ll be back in the morning.

  The driver, Mac, answers my questions as I ride in the passenger seat of the BMW sedan he drives. He’d opened the back door for me, but I hop in front.

  Mac tells me he’s worked for Jonas for several years while driving a cab on the side. He likes driving and running errands. We talk about our favorite beaches on the island and who makes good conch fritters. Mac is partial to his aunt’s fish shack well away from Seven Mile Beach. I make note of the place, promising to try it out.

  I think Mac knows my nerves are stretched and wrapped so tight they practically sing. His voice seeps through the car, slow and melodic, working like a gentle massage. When he pulls up in front of JK Investments, he hurries to race around the car to open my door. I make myself wait for him, not wanting him to feel awkward by standing on the sidewalk doing nothing.

  I place a hand on his arm when I jump out of the car. “Thanks, Mac.”

  There’s something in his returning smile that sends me a warning. “You come to my auntie’s place, miss. We’ll get you fixed up. I promise.”

  I step into the canned air of the glass-walled building. My shorts and t-shirt feel inappropriate. I square my shoulders and force my chin up. Fuck Jonas. He called me here without reason or warning. He can take me as I am.

  The receptionist gives me a slow inspection from flip-flops to ponytail. It must be tough for her not to look down her nose from the height of her stilettos. “Mr. Knightly is expecting you.”

  The welcome is better than the first time I appeared in her lobby, but it doesn’t make me feel any more relaxed than I had then. With feet growing heavier with each step, I approach the elevator and push the button, climb in, and it dispatches me to the receptionist clone upstairs. She gives me an identical once-over, with the same bland disapproving air. And, surprise, the exact same, “Mr. Knightly is expecting you.”

  Only this time, she glides in front of me toward the paneled office. She opens the door and holds her arm out to indicate my entre into the inner sanctum.

  Jonas sits behind his desk tapping on his computer. He doesn’t look up as the door snicks closed behind me.

  I stand on carpet plush enough I feel the pile on the sides of my feet as my flip flops sink into it. I count.

  1-Mississippi,

  2-Mississippi.

  3-Mississippi.

  4-Mississippi.

  5-Mississippi.

  Fuck this.

  I whirl around and fling the door open.

  “Where are you going?” Jonas’s languid voice hits me before I walk out.

  I speak over my shoulder. “Obviously, I was mistaken. I was under the assumption you wanted to see me.”

  He gives me an arrogant chuckle that instantly sets my teeth on edge. “I called you here for a reason. Close the door.”

  I hesitate one second, step into the hallway and calmly close the door behind me. With straight shoulders and my head high, I march down the corridor, heading past the generic stiletto-girl.

  My finger taps the elevator button when she clears her voice behind me. “Ms. Sawyers. Mr. Knightly would like you to return to his office.”

  “Mr. Knightly can go fuck himself.”

  His booming laugh hits the lobby before he does. “That’s exactly what I’m counting on! You are going to be a star.”

  I turn to look at him, trying to
find something about him that might have attracted Mom. Even subtracting twenty-three years, I can’t see it. Maybe he’d seemed worldly to Mom, paid for expensive dinners or been generous and fun on the dives. Maybe she’d been desperate, like Diana, but had grown up fast when she found out she was pregnant.

  Whatever she’d seen in him, I had a hard time tolerating the arm he plops around my shoulders as he escorts me back down the hall.

  In his office, he directs me to a chair in front of his desk and he bops around to land in his throne. He settles into the leather and grins at me. “So. How long have you been on the island?”

  Small talk? Okay, I’ll play the game. “About a year.”

  He doesn’t respond, almost as if he knows the answer and isn’t interested, anyway. “I know the area you’re living in. Quaint.”

  “I think you mean dumpy.” I know what it is and I know what a man like Jonas would think of it. Maybe it isn’t a mansion on the beach but it’s home.

  “I understand you lost your job as a dive master at Dive Love. Mike’s a good guy. Bet it bugged him to have to let you go.”

  He’s had me checked out. Make sense since I came here waving DNA results in his face. I wait, wondering where this is leading.

  “Funds must be dwindling, huh?” He gives me the kind of blood-thirsty grin I imagine a shark would have, right before he took his first bite. “It’s expensive to live on the island. Did you have a plan for income?”

  “I’m working at The Green Frog and I have two roommates, so we’re getting by.”

  He temples his hands under his chin. “Getting by. That sucks.”

  I shrug. “That’s life.”

  He suddenly sits back. “Okay, here’s the deal. I’m prepared to offer you more money than you ever thought possible.”

  What?

  “Money?” Butterflies bang around inside my stomach. “You want to give me money?”

  “Yup.” He gives me that toothy shark smile again. “It’s going to be easy and it will change your life. Privilege, access, experiences you’ve only dreamed about. How does that sound?”