Page 5 of Hooked

Not helpful.

“She’ll be okay.” It’s not necessarily a lie but has a better chance of becoming the truth if he listens to me. “Can you heat up that tea? And do you have a thermometer?”

He steels himself. “The medicine cabinet. Bathroom.”

Once I find the thermometer, I stick it into Sia’s mouth. She’s starting to shiver a little now. She stares with those big eyes. Her hair is plastered to her head, and salt from the ocean water clings to her full lips, which are a touch less blue.

We’ll need to get that rinsed from her skin so she doesn’t dehydrate, but first things first.

The thermometer beeps. 94°F. Bad, but not as bad as it could be.

A loud crash sounds from outside, and Sia flinches. Danny’s out with a mug of tea.

“I’ll find out what that was,” he says. “Take care of her, please?”

Like I have a choice.

3

Sia

Ithink I’m cold.

Hard to tell.

I always run cold. My nose turns bright red when it drops below 40°F. My father says it’s because I was born on Christmas, just like Rudolph.

Which, of course, is silly. Rudolph worked third shift on a foggy Christmas Eve to save the holiday.

He wasn’tbornon Christmas. But my father wouldn’t know that, not having time for frivolous things like watching Christmas movies.

My brain is kind of foggy. I’m not sure where I am or how I got here.

“Sia.” A warm voice pulls at me, deep and calm. Like it could tame those waves that were drowning us.

Waves. Oscar? I look at my hands.

No.Did I let him go?

“Where is he?” My ears crackle from the water trapped inside.

“Sia, you did great. He’s safe now. You’re at your uncle’s house. We need to warm you up.”

A large man kneels next to me. He’s very handsome. Not vital data, but I can’t think straight.

“You’re soaking wet,” I inform him.

“I am. Bit stormy out there. Drink this tea.”

I reach for the steaming mug, but my hands hurt. I can’t uncurl my fingers.

“Nope, I’ll look at those in a minute,” he says, moving the mug to my lips. “Just sip it.”

Too weak to argue, I drink it slowly.

Cinnamon and cloves. Reminds me of Christmas Eve with my cousins. My parents always travel on Christmas. They’re high-powered lawyers and take very little time off. Don’t want to be stuck at home on the rare occasions they do.

Don’t want to be stuck with me either, as I’ve never warranted an invite on their trips. Not even when I was too young to stay home alone.

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