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However, the fulfilment of my goal is looking more and more bleak the closer I get to the actual port. There are no businesses around. Maybe they’re hiding inside the large grey containers and weathered boats that have seen better days? Like pretentious speak-easies… There’s a gleaming white yacht moored in the bay, sticking out like an odd duck. Who would come here on a yacht? Blackwood doesn’t exactly seem like an exotic holiday destination. Unless you’re looking for overpricedeverythingand people who don’t seem too happy about a stranger on their street.
Ignoring my curiosity, I keep walking down the dock, hypnotised by the dark ocean as waves crash into the rocky shores of the bay. I’ve never seen anything so beautiful in my entire life. I thought seeing the ocean from the streets was breathtaking, but being so close, feeling the droplets of the salty water on my skin and hearing the wave’s rhythmic song—is something else entirely.
My butt hits the stack of crates before I even register I’m sitting down. I can’t look away, studying the vastness before me, feeling like a tiny little fish about to be swallowed by a big, great white shark. I’ve always lived inland, never swamor sailed before—I guess you don’t know what you’re missing if you’ve never experienced it before. But the water is calling to me now, just like it did the first time I’d seen it.
I remember driving next to Marion Reservoir a couple of years ago while on my way to Tennessee. After a five-hour drive, I needed to stretch my legs, so without a thought, I stopped at a small campground surrounded by a thicket of trees. There was no one else around, yet I could hear voices, children laughing and dogs barking. Curious, I started walking through the trees to where the sounds came from, only to stumble onto a lake. The sun gleamed in the calm water, blinding me as I got lost in the sight in front of me. I don’t remember how long I stood there, but by the time I got back to the car—my thoughts still on the water—it was dark already.
I’ve seen more lakes since then, always making a point to stop if I drove near one, always losing myself in the shimmering blue. Maybe it’s because I had a feeling how easy it would be to end it all this way. Just walk a few steps too far, and I’d be done for, never having learned to swim. Or, maybe it’s because the water reminds me of the vast amount of possibilities still out there for me. Until I came to Blackwood, however, I hadn’t seen the ocean.
The pull I felt when faced with the deep darkness of the Atlantic was tenfold when compared to the pull of the lakes.
“If you’re looking for dolphins, you’ll be looking for a while. They never come this close to the shore.”
I blink, startled from my thoughts by a tall, handsome stranger blocking my sunshine.
“They don’t?” I ask, peering sideways and trying to assess the danger. One thing I’ve learnt over the years is when a guy sneaks up on you, ninety per cent of the time his intentions aren’t pure.
“No. You’d have to go ten, maybe twenty miles offshore.But once you do, they’re usually easy to come by.” He smiles broadly, exposing his straight white teeth. He seems genuine, unthreatening even. The stubble gracing his tanned face makes him look around thirty. A thicket of lashes the colour of his black hair frames his dark brown eyes with laughter lines in their corners, designed to put you at ease, no doubt. But Ted Bundy was handsome, too. As was my foster brother and countless others who tried to take advantage of me while I was trying to survive.
My body tenses as my fingers wrap around the edges of the crate I’m sitting on, ready to push off and give me momentum the minute I decide to take off. My eyes dart to his heavy-duty boots, hoping they’d slow him down if he ran after me. I’m a pretty fast runner, so I’m hoping the odds are in my favour. The boots I’m wearing might cause a slight hiccup, but I’ve run in heels before, and it’s doable.
“Sorry if I startled you,” he says.
“You didn’t,” I reply, my head tilting to the side so I can covertly assess all my possible exit routes. There is a narrow street leading back to town just behind him, but I’m better off running the way I came. Everyone knows narrow side streets are made for hiding bodies…
“Good. I wouldn’t want to start on the wrong foot. I’m Luca.” He extends his hand to shake. It’s calloused but clean.
Reluctantly, I take it, shaking it gently while trying to figure out his agenda. “Alessa.”
“I swear I’m not a serial killer,” he laughs.
God, hereallyis handsome. This close up, I can tell I was wrong about his age. He’s younger than what I initially thought. And those lines around his eyes just add to his charm, especially when he’s laughing so wholeheartedly. There is something familiar about him, like I’ve seen him before. Then again, I’ve been walking up and down thestreets of this town for almost a week now, so it’s not unlikely that I have. “It’s exactly something a serial killer would say.” I smile this time. Despite knowing that I should be on high alert, I can’t help the feeling he means me no harm.
“So what brings you here, Alessa?”
Instantly, I’m aware of his watchful eyes, and something is not sitting right with me. “Why would you assume I’m not from Blackwood?” I chose my words carefully. It may be a small town. But it’s notthatsmall. Surely, he wouldn’t know everyone here.
He shrugs, flashing those straight, white teeth again. “I wasn’t. I meant the port. You don’t see many women wearing heels around here. But now that you’ve mentioned it, I don’t think I’ve seen you around before. And I would definitely remember.” His whole body pivots until he is sitting askew on his crate, resting his calf on his thigh, man spreading as he turns around to face me.
I can’t help but squirm under his gaze. “You got me. I’m new,” I laugh awkwardly. “But I like this place so far and thought I’d look around for a job. I’d like to stay awhile.”
“A job?” He rubs his chin with his fingers, looking back out to sea. “There aren’t many places at the docks that need help unless you want to do crab fishing?” His face turns back to mine, an eyebrow raised in question.
I shake my head. With my luck, I’d be overboard and drowning before the fishing boat even left the port.
“The bar and restaurant district is a five-minute walk south from here. Have you tried there?”
Shaking my head again, the feeling of failure creeps up. I knew trying to look for an office-type job was ambitious, yet I still hoped I could get one. I should have started with bars and cafes. It’s where I always end up, anyway. Besides, the flexible hours will be perfect once I can finally start diggingfor answers. As it stands, I didn’t even know Blackwood has a ‘bar district’. Not that I’d ever admit that to a stranger. “I was on my way there when I stumbled upon this view.” I motion at the bay, trying to play off my ignorance as a distraction.
“Completely understandable,” he smiles. “It’s breathtaking here, isn’t it?”
I nod. “Do you work around here?”
“Sometimes,” he replies cryptically.
I brush off the feeling of unease and get up. “Well, I should really get going. Thanks for the tip.” I smile at him, glancing at my wrist, trying not to look like an idiot as I realise I’m not even wearing a watch. I have no clue how long I sat staring at the ocean, lost in my thoughts, but judging by the hazy sun behind the thick clouds, it must have been at least a couple of hours.
“No worries. Good luck with your job search.”
