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We rush down the coast, searching for a boat rental location that’s still open. The first two we find don’t do rentals after noon, and the next one only has kayaks left to be rented. When we find one that’s still open and has boats available, I hand over my credit card and ID while the shop owner goes over the daily rates. I get a discount on his fastest speedboat since the day’s mostly over. Stuffing down guilt about stealing a boat from this perfectly nice person, I take my items back and tell him about my experience with boating.
Once he’s thoroughly satisfied I know what I’m doing, he hands me a receipt and the key, plus two life jackets, then puts up a sign that readsBe Right Back / Vuelvo Enseguidaas he leads us down to the water. While he goes over the basics, showing us where everything is and starting the boat, Florence and I put on our life jackets and climb aboard.
Everything is familiar. It’s been years since I’ve done this, but I can handle it.
Or maybe I’m just running on so much adrenaline I can’t see how bad of an idea this is. When he’s finished and returns to his shop, after wishing us a fun and safe trip and reminding us to return the boat before he closes, I turn to Florence.
“I forgot to ask him where we can get gas around here. Do you mind?”
“Running up there?” she asks. “I’m sure we can find a place.”
“I’ll feel better if we stop and fill up the gas can before we get too far out. And I don’t want to waste any time.”
“Okay, sure.” She climbs out of the boat, appearing hesitant. “Be right back.” While she’s gone, I adjust my life jacket and take a seat, fighting to calm my nerves as I watch her jog across the sand. When she’s perfectly distracted talking to the shop owner, I grab hold of the steering wheel and ease away from the dock.
She notices as soon as I start moving and realizes what’s happening in an instant, but she’s too far away. She can’t make it to me in time.
That fact doesn’t stop her from trying.
At full speed, she rushes across the beach, sand flying behind her. It slows her down significantly, but even at her fastest, she wouldn’t stand a chance. I’ve made up my mind.
“Wait!What are you doing?” she shouts at me angrily, arms shoved down to her sides. “Blake, come back!”
“I’m sorry. I can’t.”
“What are you talking about?” She cups her hands around her mouth, projecting her voice as I get farther away.
“You have to go back!” I shout. “You have to go back so you can tell everyone what happened if I don’t make it.”
“You’re an idiot!” Even from where I am, I can see the redness in her cheeks. “Come back here right now! Don’t leave me!Please!”
Now others are starting to notice us. A small crowd has gathered around her. Thankfully, the shop owner is too busy talking to another group of people to realize what’s happening.
“Get back on the ship, Florence,” I call to her, turning the boat. “I’m sorry. I’ll find her. I’ll bring her back.”
I don’t hear what she shouts at me next over the roar of the engine. Without another word, I speed away.
I’m coming, Mae. Just hold on.
CHAPTERTWENTY-SIX
MAE
I’m aware of voices outside of the room I’m in before I open my eyes.
It takes me a few seconds to come to terms with where I am, with what’s happening. Every once in a while, I wake up and still think I’m safe in my bed at home.
But I’m not. Not at home. Not safe. I’ve been trafficked. You hear about these things, you know? On social media and in the news, but…it’s not supposed to happen. Not on vacation. Not to me.
I realize how silly that sounds, but it’s the only thing I can think of right now. I don’t understand how this happened. How I let it happen.
I’m so angry with myself.
Maybe this is karma. I’ve always been a firm believer in doing good to get good back. It’s why I have dedicated my life to helping others—at the assisted care facility where I work and taking care of my parents, too. I’m not saying I’m perfect by any means, but when something tragic happens, you look for meaning in it. I found meaning in losing my brother. Purpose.
I’ve spent my life trying to make sure I’m putting into the universe what I want to get out of it. And I’ve done a pretty commendable job of it, I thought. I’ve been good, and I got an amazing husband. A perfect best friend. A nice house. A job I love.
It was all going well.
