SAWYER
I’m back at the cottage waiting for Aden. I hit the bathroom, checked my hair and makeup, and traded in my skinny jeans for a pair of baggy drawstring pants. They’re not the sexiest things in my suitcase, but I notice when I tie them loose and allow them to hang low on my hips they accentuate my backside, a part of my body that Aden seems to appreciate.
When I’m done touching up, I’m surprised to see he’s still not here. I scurry outside to make sure he didn’t dupe me and end up going back to the boat. I notice his truck is still there so I plop down on the deck assuming he’s at Cal’s catching up with his uncle.
Now that the sun has fully set, the ocean is nothing more than an endless inky pool of darkness. But in the distance there’s a sea of glowing dots, and just as the girl from the moving company said, hundreds of people have paddled out past the pier with what has to be thousands of glow sticks.
“Hey.” Aden’s word is clipped as he takes the seat next to me with a bottle of whiskey in his hand.
Other than the few beers he had tonight, I haven’t seen Aden touch liquor in days.
I eye the bottle, then him. “Everything okay with Cal?”
He grabs my hand and pulls it into his lap. “Cal? Yeah, he’s good. He’s really good.”
I squeeze to get his eyes and they’re a little wild again like earlier, but when he studies me for a few seconds he seems to calm. The pounding of music comes from all different directions, parties at neighboring homes, and there’s a group of people around Brice’s place with red Solo cups in hand, all watching the swarm of glowing surfers get bigger and bigger.
“Want to go inside?”
He leans in and presses a hurried kiss to my cheek. “No. I want you to see the show.”
“Celia!” Zo? comes skipping toward us wearing a pair of cutoff shorts and a red, white, and blue bikini top. “We were just getting ready to paddle out.” Her eyes track to Aden, who has become stiff at my side. “Hey, Aden.”
He ignores her, which immediately strikes me as rude, but when I turn toward him it’s as if he doesn’t even see her.
“Oh, ya know, I’m not a very strong swimmer so I’ll just—”
The sound of Zo?’s laughter cuts me off. “Not a strong swimmer?” She cocks a hip. “You out-paddled Brice when we went surfing at Bird Rock.”
Aden slowly turns toward me, his eyes morphing into slits of doubt.
“Yeah, well . . .” I squeeze his hand but keep my eyes on her. “That was a long time ago; besides, I want to stay dry.”
I want to stay dry? What a lame excuse.
“All right, but you’re missing out.” She turns to see a few people around Brice’s place with their surfboards making their way down to the beach. “It’s almost time!” She jogs off, calling over her shoulder, “Enjoy the show!”
My muscles ache with tension and I expect Aden to launch into questions about my surfing, but after a few minutes pass, he seems more interested in emptying that bottle than anything else.
As much as I want to talk I get the distinct feeling he’s not interested in sharing. So I remain silent, hoping my presence is enough to calm whatever battle is waging within him.
He continues to swig in rapid succession. My knee bounces with the energy it takes to keep from snagging the bottle from him and demanding answers. My phone vibrates in my pocket. With my free hand I pull it out and see it’s from my mom.
It’s almost nine o’clock at night.
I hit ACCEPT and press the phone to my ear.
“Mom?”
“Sawyer.” She sounds breathless.
Aden’s hand squeezes mine and I smile reassuringly.
“Mom, hold on.” I press the phone to my chest. “I’m going to take this inside.”
He nods and his eyes go back to scanning the horizon.
Once in the safety of the cottage, I put the phone back to my ear.
“Mom, what’s going on?”
“Honey, it’s Cece.”
I freeze mid-step. “What happened?”
“She couldn’t breathe, we . . . Honey, we had to get her help. She’s at Good Sam.”
“I’ll be home tomorrow first thing. Will I be too late?” My voice cracks as the reality of what she’s telling me constricts my throat.
“No, the doctors assured us we have some time, but Sawyer, we don’t have much.”
“No, Mom.” My eyes heat with tears.
“I know, honey.”
I push back my tears and focus on my last conversation with Celia, holding on to the health I heard in her voice. “How is she handling all this? Is she okay?”
“She hasn’t lost her spunk. When I left to call you she was shoving away all the doctors and even called one of them a . . . cockbag.” I smile and hear the first pop of fireworks from outside. “Your father was mortified.”
“Tell me the truth, Mom. What does your gut tell you?”
A few beats of loaded silence swell between us. “It’s time, baby. My gut tells me . . .” Her voice cracks. “It’s time.”
“I’ll come straight to the hospital.”
“Okay.”
“Tell her I love her.”
“I will.”
I hit END and slump into the couch. What is supposed to be the greatest fireworks show in California goes off right outside my window but I can’t even bear to look with knowledge that my sister will never see another firework again.
And something about that makes me straighten my spine. Saps the sorrow from my bones, leaving life and energy and gratitude in its place as the spirit of my sister fills me with appreciation.
This may be the last time in my life that I ever truly feel alive. Celia wouldn’t want me to waste it.
“Aden, maybe we should paddle out!” I push myself up and force my feet to the door when I hear the angry rumble of a male voice.
“Stand down, Cal, or I’ll put a fucking bullet in your head.”
ADEN
They found me.
I knew they would.
I’ve felt their eyes. Always spying.
The ocean has never been safe. It’s been their way to get at me.
No one is safe.
Mortar explosions are on repeat as incoming bombs hit too close. Close to everything I care about.
Close to her.
Too close to her.
I point my handgun into the face of the enemy.
His hands are raised. “I’m standing down. I’m not here to hurt you.”
My hand shakes but I’m a good shot. Shaking or not, I’ll blow his brains out with one bullet. “Me? You think I could give a fuck about me!”
“Aden, listen to me. You’re in San Diego—”
“Back the fuck off, you fucking liar!”
Something brushes my back.
I can’t see the threat.
Can’t move fast enough.
Gun raised, I whirl around. Muzzle of my gun shoved into the face of— “Aden, no!”
“Aden?” Her terrified eyes are big and so . . . so green . . . and crying?
“No, no.” I lower my weapon. “Don’t cry. I won’t let anyone hurt you.” I turn back to the man at the steps, my uncle, but now, my enemy.
Another mortar explodes.
“Get down!”
I crouch and back up until she’s forced inside where I lock the door and stand guard.
“I’ll die before I’ll let anyone take her from me.”
TWENTY-FOUR
SAWYER
He has a gun!