Font Size:  

Where the hell is she?

Spinning on my heel, I sucked in a breath as I found her standing at the back of the boat, her arms folded on the stainless-steel railing, her chin on her forearms, staring into the sea below.

At least she hadn’t jumped overboard to find those wretched dolphins.

Breathing a little easier, annoyed that her well-being always fell to me when her parents dived, I padded over to her.

She huffed as I pressed up against the railing.

“You were a while,” she sighed. “Engine give you trouble?”

“Nothing a wrench couldn’t fix.”

“So we’re not gonna be washed out to sea and become beached on some tropical island where we have to drink from coconuts and fashion houses from driftwood then?”

“What?” I chuckled. “Of course not. Is that what keeps you up at night?”

Turning to face me, she rested her cheek on her forearm. “Yes. But as a dream, not a nightmare. Most days I wish I could do that, don’t you? Turn your back on all of this and just go wild.”

“All of this?” I cocked my chin at the boat, the sea, the knowledge that their work mattered. “I thought you loved all of this.”

She sighed. “I do. I just don’t love the stuff on land.”

“Having another moment where you wish you were a whale, Neri?”

She scowled and looked back at the sea. “Is it my fault that I was a fish in another life? I have a hankering to go back. I want to live down there. Amongst the coral and the currents.”

I laughed. “You cannot possibly know you were a fish. And besides...who’s to say we have anything more than this life. It could all be over with when we die.” I hid my wince at the thought of my family suddenly unexisting.

I’d grown used to Neri’s insistence that my parents, sister, and cousin were still out there. They might not remember me and might not be human, but they still existed. And that offered a bit of comfort to the grief I refused to deal with.

Neri didn’t reply with her usual snark.

Instead, her spine stiffened; she leaned closer to the water. “Is that...? Oh my God!” In a flurry of speed, she kicked off her sandals, ripped off her hat, and shimmied out of her calico sundress, revealing a yellow one-piece.

I jerked upright. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“It’s a broken net. There’s a turtle...see.” She pointed wildly at the water where the sun spangled on the surface, blinding me.

“It’s dying.” Grabbing the railing, she climbed to the top rung and leapt off, executing a perfect swan dive and vanishing into the blue.

“Neri!” I bent in half over the rail, watching her watery form kicking fast, vanishing the deeper she swam. “Nerida!” I punched the side of the boat, hoping the thumps would be heard underwater.

But she didn’t stop swimming, and she didn’t return.

A flurry of bubbles erupted on the surface.

Shit.

My knuckles whitened as I glowered at where she’d disappeared.

This wasn’t new.

She often leapt overboard if the dolphins came to visit. She’d given me a heart attack when she went swimming with a fever of stingrays (learned that word thanks to my new profession). Yet each time, it never got easier. Each time she disappeared for minutes on end. My chest would tighten and my bones would crack, desperate for her to breach the surface and return.

Tearing the cap off my head, I raked both hands through my hair. I paced as I always did, waiting for her to come back and breathe.

My eyes strayed to the clock.

I started counting.

Two years had proven that the Taylors were freaks when it came to holding their breaths. Neri regularly went five minutes as if it was thirty seconds to her. She’d even pushed it to six in the swimming pool, laying like a starfish on the bottom and forcing me to time her.

But out here?

On the open water?

Dealing with swells and dangers?

The clock’s hand completed a circle.

One minute.

My feet thudded on the deck as I paced faster. I locked my gaze on the ocean, begging to see the shimmery image of her swimming back to me.

Two minutes.

Fuck, Neri...

I balled my hands and forced myself to stop pacing.

She’s fine.

She does this all the time.

She’s not Melike.

There is no storm.

Three minutes.

Fucking hell.

I locked my knees and clutched the railing. Bending as much as I could over the top, I studied the undulating water below, trying to see what she had seen.

Slowly, a different world came into view.

Obscured and wavy but I made out images underwater. The dark spot that I assumed was the turtle and red flashing lines in the otherwise pristine blue that hinted at the net.

Four minutes.

My gaze landed on another shadow.

Long and fragile, swaying with whatever currents existed down there with a glint of yellow Lycra.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
Articles you may like