Savage Hearts

He dips a hand in the water, using his damp fingers to smooth the hair away from his face. “I say I trick J.D. and Jeremy into a free canopy tour, drop them in the pit with the snakes, and tell them they’re there to pay for the terrible things they did. Then we give them an hour or two to freak out that they’re going to die of snake bite before we call the paramedics.”

I mull it over again, hands returning to my board as another large wave surges by. “Are you sure there isn’t a way to do it without you making direct contact?”

“I don’t know. Maybe we can figure something out. If we put our heads together,” he says, attention drifting to my mouth. “And our lips. I could kiss you for another hour or two tonight if that’s something you’d be interested in.”

I trap my tingling bottom lip between my teeth as I nod.

“And how about sleeping in the bed with me tonight?” he adds, hurrying to clarify, “Just sleep, that’s all. I’ve just missed waking up with a mouthful of curls in the morning.”

I can’t help but feel sad that Danny thinks he has to be so careful with me.

This was what I was afraid of last summer, that our love would never be the same once he knew what had happened. That the men who hurt me would always be in bed with us, making him treat me like I’m made of glass.

But after a moment, I push the anxious thoughts away. We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. For now, I want to enjoy the afternoon and look forward to a night in his arms.

“Sounds good,” I say, feeling a little shy as I add, “I’ve missed waking you up to tell you to stop snoring.”

“I’ve missed that, too. I’ve been sleeping way too soundly without someone around to jab me with her bony finger and growl at me to shut up.”

“I don’t growl,” I protest. “I ask nicely.”

“You growl. But I like it,” he says, grinning as he lies down on his belly and turns himself around to face the beach in advance of the set rolling in. “I like your feral side.”

“I’m going to show you my feral side.” I reach out to smack his ass, but he’s already pulling hard, building up speed to catch the next wave.

He drifts out of reach with a laugh so infectious I can’t help laughing with him. I get into position and ride the next wave in, coasting past Danny just as he falls sideways into the surf, knowing better than to jump off feet first with urchin-studded coral under the water.

After more than a year without a surfboard beneath my feet or a flight across the water, my first ride is delicious. Fast and free and light-up-my-bones perfect. I don’t ever want it to end. As I start to slow, I inch toward the top of the board and lean forward, hanging on for another hundred feet.

By the time I lean back and sit down, I’m close enough to see the faces of the people on the beach, close enough to see the jeep full of polo-shirted college boys pulling into the parking lot, parking two spaces down from my own rental car.

Even before I catch a glimpse of his profile as he slams out of the driver’s side of the jeep, I know the man in the blue shirt is Todd.

There’s something about the way he holds himself, like he knows nothing in the world can touch him, that is different than the average frat jerk. In his mind, Todd is a god, above the law, above the rest of us, and deserving of the right to do whatever he pleases and get whatever he wants.

His is the face I see on the devils in my dreams.

His is the voice I hear in the darkness, promising to come for me again, swearing that I’ll never be sane, never be safe.

The sweet freedom from a moment before curdles inside of me, filling my mouth with the sour taste of terror as I turn my board around and paddle away from the shore. I can’t let Todd see me. I can’t let him know I’m here. J.D. and Jeremy are stupid enough to believe in crazy coincidences, but Todd is a predator. He’ll take one look into my eyes, see the hate glowing there, and know I’m here for one reason.

And then he’ll do whatever it takes to keep himself safe and I’ll never finish what I’ve started.

“He’s here,” I say, breath coming in harsh gasps as I draw up beside Danny. “He’s here. On the beach.”

Danny’s smile fades. “Who? Todd?”

I nod, as frantic as if I’d spotted a shark in the water near my board. “What are we going to do? There’s no way back to the car without going by the beach. He’ll see my face and he’ll know. He’ll know Danny, he’ll—”