Going Under (Wildfire Lake 2)

“And I shouldn’t fucking care,” I tell myself as I blow on my fingers and reach for the tubing again, testing the heat before I grab hold.

But my mind strays to the way Ben woke me from our night so I could leave before the girls got up. The way his big body was curled around me from behind, erection against my ass, chest against my back, legs tangled. He was kissing my shoulder when I floated to consciousness after hours of sex just the way I like it—sweaty, intense, and raw.

Maybe that was where I went wrong—falling asleep with him. Waking up with him. The only time I’ve ever slept with a hookup was when I was so drunk, I passed out. Even then, I managed to get out of their rooms before they woke.

I’m too fucking old to be sneaking out of men’s rooms.

The thought hits me out of nowhere, and it’s loud enough to distract me from my work. I don’t consider myself old, but I’m not twenty-three anymore either. I imagine myself sailing into some lively port where I don’t know anyone and heading to the bar for companionship. Sleeping with a stranger, just to bail and retreat back to my boat where I’m alone.

I’ve always craved my solitude. Now, the idea creates unease. I discover I don’t feel that pressing need to find space anymore. But I also discover the idea of being alone doesn’t diminish the burning desire to sail and travel and experience all I can experience in the short life I’ve been given. I won’t physically be able to do this the rest of my life. I need to do it now, while I’m young and fit with a fire in my belly.

“Violet?”

The almost whisper freezes my hands, and I become intensely aware of my surroundings. Did I just hear that? Or was that some bizarre figment of my imagination?

I glance at my phone and find it’s already after four o’clock. All the girls are out of school by now.

“Joe,” I yell to one of the construction workers. “Turn off the music for a minute.”

He gets off his ladder, reaches for his phone, which is connected to mobile speakers, and taps the screen. I hold up my index finger, silently telling him it’ll just be a second.

When I hear nothing but the dribble of rain off the roof, I look at Joe. “Did you hear—?”

“Violet?”

Jazz’s voice sends a lightning bolt of terror straight down my spine. I’m on my feet and out the door before I can make sense out of this. All I can think about is a five-year-old on the docks without supervision.

“Jazz?” I yell even as I jog toward the dock. It’s stopped raining, and I find Jazz wandering the dock, soaking wet. The water here is well over her head and cold enough to cause instant hypothermia in a girl her size.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” I run onto the dock, and Jazz turns in a circle, finally facing me. I don’t want to scare her, but she’s just scared the bejesus out of me, and I’m amped. I crouch in front of her and take her hands. They’re freezing. “Jazz, honey, what are you doing out here?”

Her tiny body is shivering, teeth chattering. I pull off my hoodie, warm from my body and pull it over her head, dragging her arms through.

“Violet was playing hide-and-seek with me, and I can’t find her. I looked everywhere. I thought she might have come here.”

Another strike of panic hits. I push to my feet and drag my phone from my pocket while scanning the lake for any disturbance. I dial Violet’s number, and I swear my heart climbs toward my throat a little more with every ring. Tears of terror sting my eyes by the time I hear Violet’s sweet voice on the other end of the line. “Hi, Kat. I miss you.”

I’m so relieved, my muscles turn to butter, and I drop the phone. I crouch to pick it up, but I’m shaking, and I end up covering my face with both hands. Hot tears flood my eyes. A hammer pounds in my chest, and I can’t push to my feet.

Holy. Fuck.

Holy. Fucking. Christ.

I’ve never been so scared. Not even when I thought I was going to drown in that cyclone.

I take several deep breaths before picking up the phone where Violet is saying, “Kat? Are you there?”

“Yeah.” I force myself to pull it together. “Who’s home with you right now?”

“Jazz, Poppy, and Isabel, why?”

Isabel.

Goddammit.

“Okay, thanks, honey. I’ll see you in a bit.”

By the time I disconnect, Jazz is standing beside me, patting my back in an adorable miniature impression of a parent. “It’s okay, Kat. Don’t be sad.”