It was all background sounds to me. My mind was only zeroed in on one thought. One purpose.
Finding Chase.
I covered my nose and mouth with my hand and stooped over to crawl to the edge of our boat. I squinted through the hazy smoke-filled air and scanned back and forth like one of those cat clocks with shifty eyes. I combed back and forth, back and forth, praying silently that a familiar set of broad shoulders would stand out in the chaos. I couldn’t leave Jackson on board by himself—I couldn’t take him out, either. It was too dangerous. But it took every fiber of my being to keep myself rooted in place.
Anxiety ripped through me in massive tidal wave rushes. There were so many questions rattling around in my head, and all it did was conjure up more fears. My stomach churned as my eyes continued darting up and down the dock, stopping to assess each figure and face. No one appeared to have seen me from my hiding place in the shadows. They were all consumed with the emergency at hand.
And I was going to keep it that way.
If any of the rescue teams knew I was on a boat so close to the blast and the raging fire, they’d insist I leave and then Jackson and I would be sitting ducks. For all I knew, Henry’s men had set the explosion to draw me out from my hiding place. A large crowd full of panicked people would be the perfect place to attempt a kidnapping.
Or worse—murder.
In all the chaos, no one would notice a woman with her child being escorted away from the crowd.
I shuddered at the thought. No. I was staying put and waiting for Chase to come back to me. He’d know what to do. Besides, if I left, how would he ever find me again?
Unless…
No. Hell no. I wasn’t going to go there. He was a Navy SEAL for God’s sake. He was fine. He was safe. He had to be. He was probably down on the docks, weaving through the throng of townspeople and tourists trying to get back to the boat.
“Mama?”
I whipped around, my heart leaping into my throat, and spotted Jackson standing in the doorway that led to the stairs. I wanted to scream at him for breaking his promise and going against my wishes but seeing the terror in my sweet son’s eyes broke my heart and all I could do was reach for him. “Come here, sweetheart. But shh.” I pressed a finger to my lips before opening my arms to him. It occurred to me that it was a pointless gesture. No one was going to hear his scared, tiny-sounding voice over the panic. “Why are you up here?”
“I got scared…I heard a loud noise and I couldn’t find you.”
My heart shattered like a firework, the pieces fluttering to the ground between us. I squeezed him tighter to my chest. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m so, so sorry.”
“Mama? What’s happening?” He tried to step up onto his toes to see over the side, but I pulled him down beside me with a gentle tug on his wrist.
“I don’t know, baby, but we need to stay here and stay hidden.” I brushed his hair back and a lump swelled in my throat. I bit back the tears, refusing to break down in front of him. I needed to be strong for him.
It was the least I could do, considering everything was my fault.
No, it wasn’t my fault that my soon-to-be ex-husband, Henry O’Keefe, was a maniac on a homicidal power trip. But as I glanced down at the mess on the docks, I couldn’t fight back the thought that if I’d just done something different—neither one of us would be in this situation. I’d be miserable, but as long as I did what Henry asked, he would have let me live. Jackson could have continued living in blissful ignorance of the strain between his father and me. At least, for a while longer.
And Chase…
Chase would be on a beach, with a drink in one hand and his beloved paperback in the other.
I squeezed my eyes tight against the accusations and self-hatred.
“Where’s Chase?” Jackson asked, his voice still soft and close to my ear as he snuggled against me.
“He went to get us some supplies, baby. Then, when he gets back, we can go. Okay?” It was the dozenth lie that I’d told him since we’d left California. I hated the way each one felt.
He’d forgive me someday.
I turned and looked over the side again. The fire on the boat appeared to be finally contained and the first ambulance that had arrived on the scene had fled into the night. The second one waited on standby. That had to be a good sign. Right? If there were more injuries, they would’ve called in more paramedics and ambulances, wouldn’t they? I clung to the hope that the situation wasn’t as dire as it looked from my vantage point.