Page 31 of Fire Island
Static crackles back as the two men fly into the cabin.
“Emmett! Help! Please! It’s Eve Holland.”
“Ten-four, Miss Evie.” Static squeals. “Hold your position. I’ll be there in three minutes. Over.” His voice is thick. Stoic but tense.
It’s perfect relief.
I slide down the cupboard. The intense relief flooding me steals my will to stand.
One breath.
Two breaths.
I replay the short exchange, making sure I didn’t dream it.
Rough hands haul me from the cabin. In a sickening tumble of limbs, as the darkness spins around me, I’m tossed overboard. The growl of the engine spurs to life. The cruiser speeds out of sight. I gasp, spluttering seawater as I tread to keep afloat.
The calm of freedom washes over me with the next rolling mass of water, and I lie back and float. The stars above shimmer. I pull every good memory I’ve ever had of Callum McCreary to the surface. Closing my eyes, I beg the heavens that Emmett finds me before the EPIRB drifts too far away.
And I’m lost at sea forever.
Eight
CALLUM
My sister is lying to me. I know she’s upset about some missing friend, and now, sitting across from me, she is stone-faced and denying any such thing. I take a sip of the delicious coffee she made and study her as she tries to formulate a reason for getting so wound up at the meeting yesterday.
“I guess I just hate the fact they can toss you out. Fire Island is your home, you’ve made a life there, and?—”
“You said that already, Irry. Tell me what’s really going on.”
Her phone vibrates on the table, lighting up.
Emmett.
“Shit, I have to take this. Sorry, Cal. Grab some scones before the midmorning rush, will you?”
She slips outside, and I rise from my chair, wandering to the big bay window, watching my little sister pace. Her hand slaps over her mouth, and she sags with something that looks like relief. When she starts crying on the sidewalk, that’s the last fucking straw.
I slam the coffee cup on the counter and spill out onto the sidewalk. Without asking, I wrap her in my hold, and she sobs into my chest.
So much for nothing to worry about.
Dammit, Irry.
Her sobs die off, and she pushes away, straightening her hair with one hand, drying her face with the other. “I have to go. Look after Paige for me, will you?”
“Sure, but we are hashing this thing out when you get back.”
She winks at me with a scrunched-up face full of love.
Yeah, I ain’t getting a thing out of that woman.
I sigh, making my way back inside as Iris dashes out with her bag and phone. I know the doctor told her and Em not to try to fill in the blanks of the three missing years. But being left out of the loop with something like this is hard.
Something feels off.
Like I should be front and center in this unfolding drama.
