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I start walking, determination growing with each step I take. As I near the group, it grows quiet, and every head turns my way. I know I’m an outcast and unwelcome, but I don’t care. They cannot offer up any harsher words than I have heard already today.
I weave through the group, ignoring them all with a single focus: to get my feet off this Earth. Zaden glances over at me and stills, our eyes locking across the stormy beach. I pop the button on my shorts and drop them into the sand, continuing forward in nothing but a purple tank and black lace panties.
“Ivy?” He asks, concern lacing his words. “What’s wrong?” He reaches for me as I near, and I brush past him to retrieve one of the boards from the sand. Then I stride toward the water without a backward glance, barely registering the sound of his voice above the crash of the waves.
I run into the ocean, leaping nimbly onto the board and paddling over the breakers that roll toward the shore. I can feel the power in the current pulling me out to sea, tugging at my limbs with every stroke. A wave begins to crest ahead of me, and I press the nose of my board into the sea, ducking beneath theswell. I pop up on the other side, paddling hard, then duck beneath the next. I gasp as my head breaks the surface, shaking the water from my eyes, and continue.
My heart is pounding, grief fueling every rapid plunge of my hand into the sea. When the next wave starts to curl, I’m just far enough out that I soar over it, up the vertical wall of water to coast down the back side. I made it. I’m outside the breakers. I pull my board beneath me to stare out at the darkened horizon. Lifting my eyes to the sky, at the mercy of the ocean, I beg for the comfort I can only find here, and nowhere else.
Paige’s voice echoes in my head, the words she said on the final day we surfed:
All the oceans touch.
I’m here, and so is she. This is how we can be together.
“Ivy!” A voice shouts above the roar of the sea, and I glance back at the shore. Zaden paddles toward me with long, powerful strokes, sliding his board up beside mine. “Are you fucking crazy? This is dangerous for inexperienced-”
I level him with a deadly glare, every bit as destructive as the ocean around us. “Do I look inexperienced?” I ask, glancing back at the horizon.
He bites his tongue and pulls his board under him. We sit in silence, soaking in the sounds of the raging water, and the thunder rumbling in the distance. His silhouette fills my periphery, his dark hair slicked back, tattooed muscles flexing as he balances on the board. When he turns to look at me, I meet his gaze. I feel like he sees me. Really sees me, for the first time.
“You’re not from Nebraska, are you?” He asks, although I can tell by his tone he already knows the answer.
I shake my head.
The swell passing beneath the board is larger than the last, and I watch the formation. When I see the one I want, I turn away from him and paddle harder than I ever have before. The wave towers over me like the hand of God as I slide down the face, leaping to my feet to carve hard. I tuck my body for speed, riding the smooth curve as it tunnels behind me in a turbulent tumble of whitewater. When I’m far enough away from the wash, I slide down the wave and back up again, catching speed before flying off the peak. I’m airborne, weightless, pulling the board up into a grab before landing on the curl and sliding back down.
Adrenaline starts to clear my head, and I feel like I can finally breathe again. I know what I have to do. I have to take my evidence to Detective Phillips, and pray he’s on my side. He doesn’t get to say when this is over. I do.
I slide along the wave until it mellows, then peel off the back with a 360, landing it before sinking slowly into the sea. My gaze falls on Zaden, aggressively carving a wave even larger than mine, his beautiful body leaning skillfully into every turn. His control is total. Textbook. He spots me as he sails past, and curves in toward me, breaking free from the curl in an airborne arc that lands at my side. He sinks into the water, in paddle position, and meets me stroke for stroke.
The chop pushes us in until I can put my feet into the sand, and jog up the beach.
“Ivy,” he shouts, falling into step beside me.
“That’s not my name,” I shout back, refusing to look at him. I don’t care if he knows. Not anymore. I drop the board in the sand and retrieve my discarded shorts as the Sandbargroup parts like the Red Sea, their faces wide-eyed in astonishment.
“Wait,” Zaden calls, catching my arm as I near the catwalk. I turn toward him, shoving long, wet strands of purple hair out of my face.
“What?” I ask in exasperation. “I have to go.”
“I want the truth,” he says, his eyes pleading. “You aren’t Ivy from Nebraska.” It’s not a question.
I slowly shake my head.
“Then who?” He pleads. “Because the woman I just saw out there is a pro-level surfer with a lifetime of experience on the water. She wasn’t shy. Or afraid. She was real, raw, and fueled by the ocean with a passion rivaling my own. I’ve seen that fire when we’re alone, lost in each other. But then it’s gone.”
I take a deep breath. This is harder than I thought it would be.
“I’m Skye Matthews,” I say softly. Apologetically. “I’m Paige’s sister.” His features soften as the realization sets in, and he releases his grip on my arm.
“What?” He questions, shaking his head.
“The police called me when she went missing, but wouldn’t tell me anything about the investigation. Things weren’t adding up, and I knew that right here,” I wave my arm at the Sandbar. “Are all the people who saw her last, and I just wanted to get their side of the story. I didn’t expect Evan to hire me. I didn’t come here to lie to everyone, it just happened.” The pain in his eyes shatter the remaining pieces of my broken heart.
“You could have trusted me.”
“I didn’t know that you weren’t the enemy,” I shout as frustration builds. “Fuck, sometimes I still think you are. You’vebeen my biggest obstacle in this entire investigation because you make me want to stop, end it, tell you the truth, or continue living this lie forever just to be with you.” I lace my hands behind my head and turn away before I say something I can’t take back.
