Page 9 of The Heartbreak Hotel

She glanced up and down the shoreline, spotting a stretch of white sand beyond some jagged rocks. Sheltered from view, she’d be fine to take a little dip. She really needed to clear her head. She wouldn’t go in far.

“Thank you, sir,” she said, flashing him a wink. She caught his cheeks flushing before she dashed down the beach.

At the other side of the rocks, she dumped her bag again, sweat now dotting her upper lip and eyebrows. With a child-like squeal, she strode into the shallow waves, the water embracing her hot skin like a cooling balm.

Yes. This is more like it.

She sank backwards, letting the sea buoy her. One with the water, everything relaxed. She let out a guttural sigh, squinting up against the sunshine. Then a crash of water slapped her across the face, and she spluttered, swallowing most of it as it knocked her sideways.

She scrambled, righting herself, before another wave dunked her again. Her chest tightened, struggling for breath as she tried to breach the surface. But she could no longer touch the floor. How had she ended up so far out?

Shit.

Flapping like a penguin, she fought against the current, but a strong tug sent her in the opposite direction, pulling her further down into the salty depths.

Chapter Three

Riley

A soft sea breeze fluttered Riley’s hair around her face, obscuring her vision. She sighed, setting down her paintbrush to scrape her wild mane into a bun on top of her head before plucking up the brush again, dipping it into the blue paint, and swirling it across the canvas.

Her strokes were purposeful, aggressive, mind and hand blurring as one to blend the colours into something powerful. Heat pricked the back of her neck, sweat beading her forehead, but she couldn’t stop. The waves on the canvas stood taller and more destructive than the ones in front of her eyes, but they matched the tumultuous feeling deep in her chest.

Sensing her pulse racing, Riley closed her eyes to focus on her breathing. Sleep had eluded her last night; it always did around this time of year. Senhor Arenoso had encouraged her to take some days off, but the last thing she needed was time alone. They’d agreed for her at least to miss the morning introductions so she could prepare for the weeks ahead.

The crashing of the waves against the shore lulled her. Fresh salty air filled her lungs. In and out. She exhaled through her mouth. The cries of petrels and shearwaters cut through the sloshing sound of the ocean as they ferried back and forth from their nests in the cliffs. She flew with them in her mind, dipping and diving over the sea until all she felt was the wind on her face and the sun on her skin.

She smiled. She often sat out here on the beach cliffs or on her hammock in her garden, watching the birds. How elegant and nimble they were as they flew, returning year after year after migrating north. Riley found them fascinating. How they could navigate using the earth’s magnetic fields, using the sun and stars to guide them. Like humans used to before the world got too complicated.

Her breathing settled into a calm, steady rhythm, and she tilted her head skywards, letting the orange sun paint her eyelids. She used to hope her spirit guide would be a bird. Her connection to them was so strong, she was sure that if she had wings, she’d be able to tune into the earth’s vibrations, too, zip and soar through the sky without any worries. But she trusted Senhor Arenoso’s judgement.

Opening her eyes, she squinted under the bright light, feeling much more grounded. That feeling was what so many people came here searching for, and she had the privilege of experiencing it all year round. She was wholeheartedly grateful to Senhor Arenoso for that. He’d no doubt saved Riley’s life four years ago.

She exhaled, rolling her neck and stretching side to side. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been out here, but judging from the sun’s arc in the sky, it’d been hours.

Her eyes combed the canvas. The rough marks of blues and whites collided with purples and reds, in a fashion Marco Marcos had deemed “deeply emotional”. She lifted her gaze beyond the painting to the line where the sea and horizon met. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky. The sun glinted off the surface of the water, until the waves broke through, spitting froth up onto the rocks. It was a shame the sea was so violent today. An afternoon surf would have been perfect.

A flash of something red in the water caught Riley’s eye.

What is that?

She looked closer, following the object as it swirled through the water. Oh shit. That’s a person. Adrenaline spiked up her spine, and she clambered down the rocks leading to the beach. Hot stones burned her feet, but she barely felt it, tearing off her vest and shorts to reveal her blue bikini underneath.

She sprinted across the sand. Keeping an eye on the bundle of red and white, she dived into the sea. She worked her arm muscles as fast as she could, cutting through the water. The waves pulled and pushed against her, but the fire flowing through her veins propelled her forward. As she got closer, she realised the person was a woman. Her lifeless body bobbing along the waves forced Riley’s burning muscles to work faster. Nearly there.

She reached for the woman and, remembering her lifeguard training, tilted her chin up and swam backwards to keep her airways out of the water.

The sea threatened to upheave them, but Riley shielded the woman with her body, breaking the waves away from her. Her heart raced, fighting with everything she had to pull her out of the water and onto the sandy shore.

She called for help, although she knew this area of the beach was unguarded. She called again anyway, her own lungs fighting for breath, before laying the woman on her back and brushing her tangled red hair from her face.

Riley inhaled. It was the woman from last night, Ella. What was she doing swimming in the sea with the warnings out?

“Ella! Ella, can you hear me?” Riley shook her, leaning over to check her breathing.

Oh shit. Oh shit.

She couldn’t tell if Ella was still breathing, but she needed to act quickly. She was going to have to give her mouth-to-mouth and then start chest compressions. With one hand, she tipped Ella’s chin backwards, using the other to pinch her nose, then closed her mouth over hers, blowing into her airway.