Don't Promise (Don't 3)

“See that light out there.” He pointed to a faint flashing yellow light in the distance.

“Of course,” I responded. It was as clear as any of the other markers dotting the dark waters.

He pivoted toward me. “Even if I wanted to, I can’t take us to it. As soon as we head toward it, it will move.”

My eyes grew big. “Oh wait. I think I remember that story.”

I never believed in ghost stories or legends. “It’s not real, Blake.”

“It’s real. The way my dad told it, a sailor was stranded on the shoals after a shipwreck about a hundred years ago. He was able to get out of the ship with a lantern and tried to swim to shore, but the currents out here are unpredictable and he never made it to land. The next day, they found his lantern, but never the body.”

I shivered and inadvertently scooted closer to Blake.

He continued with the tale. “So, the legend goes that the blinking yellow light is him still trying to swim to shore, but no one can ever catch up to it because of the currents.”

“Holy shit. It’s still the creepiest thing I’ve ever heard.” Ok, maybe I was a little scared. I had forgotten all of the tragic stories from the ocean.

“You want me to show you?” Blake placed his hand on the gearshift, ready to maneuver the boat toward the lantern’s light.

“Definitely.”

He laughed and gave me a killer smile that made me glad I’d boarded his boat.

“Hey, Cole.” He called up front, but his cousin was busy sleeping off his beers.

I lightly bit at my lower lip. Something about the way Blake took command of the boat as he stood and steered toward the golden light without reservation made me look at him the way I used to. It was kind of hot.

“Almost there,” he shouted over the wind.

I peered over the console, trying to keep my eyes on the target. The closer we got, the weaker the color was. I squinted harder as Blake slowed the boat.

“Where did it go? It should be here.” I stood, looking over the side of the boat.

“Over there.” Blake pointed three hundred yards east.

Blake reached down and let his hand rest on my shoulder. “I think that’s enough ghost hunting for one night. What do you say I take you home?”

Surprised by the heat that stemmed from my shoulder, I smiled. “Sounds good.”

“Hold on up there!” Blake shouted before throwing the boat into full gear and pointing it toward Aunt Lindy’s pier.

6

Blake

I dropped Sierra off on her aunt’s pier and didn’t even look over my shoulder. I wasn’t supposed to care if she made it inside the house, or if she even fell over into the dark waters.

It was stupid relieving old high school pranks about ghost stories and shit that was from the past.

I chugged the last of my beer and steered us back. Cole could wake up in the morning to a neck full of mosquito bites. I left him snoring on the bow and hopped off.

I didn’t know if I could shake it. If I could pretend she wasn’t here. I drove home with fireworks exploding overhead.

My palm slammed into the steering wheel. My summer was fucked. The peace I needed off the field to be the warrior I needed to be on the field was fucked. The last shred of solitude I had found in my life was fucked because Sierra Emory had decided to come home.

It didn’t matter she hadn’t been seen here in eight years. She never visited her aunt. I heard she didn’t even make the funeral.

And now what? She thought she could parade that tight ass into one of Shirley’s parties and all would be forgiven?