Page 1 of Trapped By the Blood Ruby

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Ifought the ocean’s current the way I fought everything in life, with something to prove. My legs strained, arms pulling me through the water. I broke free of the surface, gasping for breath. No one had given me a single thing—ever. The ocean certainly wouldn’t. Maybe that’s why I enjoyed risking my life this way. It was a familiar sort of challenge. Something to gain, but everything to lose.

And hadn’t that been my whole story?

The shore was a quarter of a mile off. I took another moment to recover, then swam toward the beach. The small cove was deserted. The waves were too tranquil for surfers and the water too cold for vacationers. People preferred Torring Gulf, south of here.

Out here, anything could happen. There was no one to save me. But, when had there ever been? I pushed the heaviness out of my chest. I was done feeling sorry for myself.

My feet found the sandy bottom and I waded back up the beach, searching out my things. My chest already felt lighter, freer, happier. I plopped down on my towel and took a few minutes to stretch the soreness from my muscles.

I’d earned this. This quiet moment to enjoy the breeze kissing my cheeks, drying the water droplets from my skin. It still didn’t feel real. Not quite yet.

I propped my hands behind me, leaning back, smiling up at the overcast sky. A whole summer. I could do this every day for hours without feeling a shred of guilt.

My phone pinged.

I pulled it from my bag, unlocked it.

Ania

You’ll never believe who got us on the guest list for Kase Yoshiki’s party tonight.

It was followed by some ridiculous dancing GIF. I snorted and set my phone aside to resume my basking. It pinged again.

Ania

Okay, I’ll tell you!

Ania

Me!!!

Ania

Get your ass home so we can get ready.

I groaned, gathering my things, stashing my goggles and cap before heading to the stairs leading up the sea cliff. As much as I loved that girl, Ania was ruining my carefully laid evening plans. I had every intention of planting myself on the couch with a big glass of wine and the smutty gargoyle book I’d started.

I climbed into Ania’s car, blasting the air conditioning. Braxton had an excellent public transport system between the subway and buses. I really only needed to borrow her car when I left the city, and she never minded.

I took the freeway, heading south, cranking the dial on the radio. The city loomed before me, one suburb blurring into the next. A sea of high-rise buildings dominated the horizon. Braxton was one of the largest cities in the country, a mass of corporate headquarters. It was also home to Braxton University. One of the best STEM universities in the world. BU grads went on to lead successful careers. It felt like I’d just joined an exclusive club with my mathematics degree, despite wracking up a hefty student loan debt.

I took the exit for West Park and navigated to my apartment building. Ania and I had been roommates for three years. She was an anomaly and I loved her for it. Socialite and rich, but still a good person. She’d been amazing toward me from the start. We respected each other’s space, cleaned up after ourselves, didn’t steal each other’s food. We even took turns with chores.

Okay, it helped that we both had the same taste in books. Our shelves were overflowing with smutty paperbacks. The kind that would make an old biddy clutch her pearls.

I found a spot along the street and climbed out, gathering my things. A window grated open above. Ania’s blond head popped out. “Ooowwww! Look at that hottie!” she cat-called before sliding the window shut.

I snorted, glancing down at myself. I was wearing nothing but a one-piece suit and flip flops covered in sand, a towel hanging limp in my hand. I slung my swim bag over my shoulder and trudged up to our apartment. She threw open the door before I had the chance to fish for my keys.

I was just kidding, btw. You look like a drowned kitten.”

“Yeah?” I scoffed. “ Well, you look like…like a freaking princess. God. How is it that I don’t hate you?”

“Because I’m sugary sweet?” She batted her mascaraed lashes at me.

“Sugar kills, you know. It’s called diabetes?”