Page 3 of Across Torn Tides


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Being alive—truly alive—certainly brought its own emotions to work through, and I couldn’t shake the crushing weight of feeling like I didn’t quite understand who I was anymore. I wasn’t sure I’d felt that in a long time. It was easy, back in the time of my best days, knowing exactly who and what I sailed for. But now, the world was different, and the wonder was gone. And even if I brought Milo back, as I planned to do, where did that leave me? What was I here for?

A broken life without the only person I ever truly loved—Serena. Even when I was finally able to die, she wasn’t there waiting for me like I hoped. So where was I supposed to put my faith? Why would I care what mark I left in this world, good or bad? I was just here to do what had to be done.

In a moment of tenderness, I smiled as I remembered her voice, so smooth and sweet. Too sweet as she’d tell me she loved me in that strange, special way of hers.

“I love you 18 times 66. As far as North to West.” She’d said one night as we said goodbye.

“That doesn’t make sense, love. What does that mean?” I laughed.

“I don’t know,” she giggled. “Just popped into my head.”

So from then on, that became our thing. Eighteen times sixty-six. From North to West. It made about as much sense as her loving me. She was too much of a fearless dreamer for this world. Perhaps that’s why she longed so much to be part of mine. If only I hadn’t let her. If I had just listened to Milo and stayed out of her world, she might be alive. I killed her, and I hated that I was back here, forced to remember it each day. My father wasn’t here to blame anymore. Just me. My smile quickly curved into a scowl.

I raked my fingers across my hair, my head feeling heavy in my hands. I needed to sleep. But instead, I stood up, my eyes burning with the need for rest. My boots echoed along the aluminum stairwell as I walked down to the ground floor of the garage.

Across the darkness of the shop, I made my way outside, where the briny bay water hit my nostrils like a breath of fresh air. I sauntered over to Milo’s motorcycle, where it leaned parked and lifeless. When we were cursed, I always thought it was strange that he wasted his time learning to tinker with things like this. It seemed like a waste of effort for someone damned to hell and trapped in a time loop of dying over and over each night. But I guess it paid off for him. Turns out it was me who was the fool in the end. Maybe that’s why he loved to toy around with these damn things. Machines and maps couldn’t break his heart.

I shook my head, knowing I should get back inside and force myself to sleep. As I stifled a yawn, I felt some weird sense of hope that maybe I shouldn’t be so cynical. Right then, I swore to myself that I’d make sure I was brought back with a purpose. I’d take Katrina to Cuba. I’d protect her and find a way to get Milo back. And I’d do everything I could to keep from being the reason another person I cared about lost their life.

This was all I had left.

4

Rogue Storm

Katrina

Today was the day we left for Cuba. I completed my morning ritual as efficiently as possible. I scurried to pull back my unruly hair into a loose ponytail and slip on my worn sneakers—the ones dried out from saltwater and gritty with sand that I could never quite get rid of completely.

I drove to the marina, but I parked a block over so as to keep suspicions down if there were any. Hustling my way to the docks, I scanned the area for Bellamy. He was knelt over a tie down knot mooring a large yacht to the dock.

“Everything good to go?” I asked, studying the way his deft fingers ran over the rope.

“Good morning to you, too,” He scoffed softly.

“I’m sorry,” I said, kicking a broken piece of seashell over into the water. “I’m just anxious.”

“Don’t be.” Noah’s voice startled me as he appeared from above leaning over the boat’s edge. “You got plenty of backup.”

I glanced up at him with heavy eyes, but a heart that lifted at the sight. “You didn’t have to come, Noah. Milo wouldn’t have wanted—’’

“Good thing none of us care what Sandy wants. Besides, I’d much rather be doing this than dealing with my pissed-off uncle and his insurance over the ‘stolen’ motorsailer. Kinda hard to explain how I let that happen.”

I rolled my eyes with a playful shift in my stance. “I should know by now that I can’t get rid of you and McKenzie.”

“You might be able to control water, but you can’t control us.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Bellamy said. “Remember she’s still a siren.” He winked at me, but something about his words still bothered some strange space within me. I didn’t like remembering my power. It was too dangerous.

“Speaking of McKenzie…” Noah looked around. “Where is she?”

“Still sleeping when I left. I heard at least four of her alarms go off, so I’m sure she was going to get up any minute. She shouldn’t be far behind me.” I shrugged.

Noah’s expression shifted, his dark brows creating inquisitive creases on his forehead. “Last night she swore she’d be here early. I’ve called her twice already and no answer.”

I checked my phone. Nothing from McKenzie, but I had a missed call from Mom. I’d call her back later. “Maybe I should check on her,” I said, turning back to face the outskirts of the romantic little town of Constantine. “I’ll go back.”

With a reassuring nod from both of them, I headed back to my Jeep, the damp air of late morning settling into my skin as the sun’s golden heat began to make itself known. I drove back to Isabel, silently hoping McKenzie had changed her mind. I wanted her to go. I really did. But I couldn’t forgive myself if something happened to her. And a part of me still couldn’t shake the guilty conscience from feeling like she was giving up too much to help me.

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