Water Bound (Sea Haven/Sisters of the Heart 1)

Sea Haven's main street ran right along the actual coast, separated from the water only by the bluffs. She could be in the town because from just about anywhere she shopped, she could see and hear the ocean. Right now whitecaps danced over the surface and spray blasted up the rocks. The sight was breathtaking.

There was no one out but old Bill. His blanket wrapped around him, he huddled in the small area between the grocery store and the kaleidoscope shop Rikki's sister Judith owned. She lifted a hand toward him. Like her, he was different. He muttered to himself and made a living from the cans people left for him, and he often rode around on his prized possession, the old bike that was propped against the wall of the store--it was his only method of transportation other than his feet. His clothes were old and dirty, and the soles of his boots worn. She made a mental note to remind Blythe that they were going to find him a comfortable pair of boots for the winter.

As she pushed open the door, there was an all-too-familiar tightening in her stomach. At once the walls closed in and she felt like she was choking. Ordinarily she could grab jars of peanut butter and get out, but the list required actual walking up and down the aisles. When she stepped inside, the fluorescent lights seemed to flicker like a strobe. Flashes went off behind her eyes. Her stomach lurched, and even with the dark glasses, she threw her arm across her eyes to protect them and backed out of the store, shaken.

Rikki bit her lip hard and looked toward the sea, trying to breathe in the salt air. It had definitely been too long. She actually felt a little dizzy and it was hard to catch her breath. The store wasn't crowded or noisy, two things she avoided at all costs, so she just had to get past the lights and force herself to go up and down the aisles. Everyone did it. The peanut butter was stocked on the outer shelf and she could just grab it and go, but . . .

She squared her shoulders. People did this every single day. She was a grown woman, the captain of her own boat--there was nothing she couldn't do. She pushed open the door a second time and walked in. Inez Nelson, a fragile-looking woman with graying hair and a slender body stood at the counter, looking up with a friendly smile.

"Rikki. You're always up early," she greeted. "How are you? How are your sisters?"

Rikki nodded to her, ignoring the questions. She moistened her lips, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other. She could do this, walk into the space between the aisles. Her feet didn't move. She just stood there, frozen, with the lights fluttering, pushing sharp little darts into her brain. Her stomach lurched, and she turned and went back outside where she could breathe.

"Damn it." She was used to being different, but when it interfered with her ability to do everyday chores, it made her angry. She was used to the lights in stores actually hurting her, where she could tell others didn't have the same problems. Noises were the worst, and textures, especially in her mouth, were brutal on her. The taste of silver or plastic just couldn't be tolerated. Certain fabrics hurt her skin. She knew others weren't like her, but for the most part, she'd learned to cope. But this shopping thing was a nightmare. The hum of the lights reverberated through her head until she wanted to scream.

What was she going to do? Ask Blythe? One of the others? They'd want to know why she wanted food she'd never eat. She chewed on her thumbnail and glared at the store. A person could do anything for a short period of time. She had to be able to go into a grocery store, and if she didn't hurry, more people would come and then it would be impossible.

Squaring her shoulders, she went back inside, and this time she managed to make it to the actual entrance to the aisle before she stopped, dizzy and sick. She couldn't enter that small space where the lights pushed needles into her brain that exploded like firebombs behind her eyes. She shook her head, near tears. Anger welled up like a tidal wave, black and ugly--it was a force she often had to fight when she became frustrated.

"Rikki."

Inez's voice was brisk, matter-of-fact, never that pity sound she detested. Rikki turned around to face her, knowing she had to leave the store again and fighting her blurred vision.

"Give me your list. I'll get your things and you can stand over by the window." Inez held out her hand.

Was it defeat? Or victory? Rikki didn't know, but she had no choice. She handed the list to Inez, grateful she seemed to understand the problem.

"You weren't at the wedding," Inez said, all chatty.

Rikki grit her teeth. Did one answer a statement? She made a sound in the back of her throat, the only acknowledgment she could think to make. The timbre of Inez's voice took a background to the hum of the fluorescent lights. The lights were like a strobe now, continually flickering. The needles stabbing through her skull became ice picks.

"The girls looked lovely," Inez added. "Everyone had such a good time. We missed you though. Elle made a stunning bride. And Jackson was so handsome."

She sounded proud of Jackson, almost as if he were her son. What did Rikki know of Inez, anyway? Other than she knew everything about everyone, so Rikki made certain to avoid her whenever possible. Jackson was a deputy, and as far as Rikki was concerned, that put him right up there with the officials who had relegated her to the state home and accused her of starting fires and killing the people she loved.

"Frank and I danced the night away."

Frank, Frank Warner, was Inez's fiance, who owned one of the local galleries. He'd been incarcerated for something. Sometimes he was in the store sitting behind the counter; he was quiet and had little to say. Rikki identified with him more than she did most people. She knew others probably judged him, just as they did her odd behavior.

Inez was still talking, the sound of her voice grating on raw nerves, but the woman was doing her a favor so Rikki wasn't going to let the pain in her head make her do something stupid, like get violent. It had happened in the past, more than once. Lexi called them "Rikki's freak-outs," but it was embarrassing not to have control. She did deep breathing, hoping she didn't pass out.

"Thank God you weren't out on the ocean that day, Rikki," Inez was saying, pushing a cart with great efficiency. "A huge rogue wave came out of nowhere and would have hit the beach, but the Drakes did their thing and it was gone. But your sisters must have already told you that."

Now the ice picks were daggers, stabbing through her brain. Rikki put her hands over her ears to drown out all sound and concentrated on her breathing. Inez was working fast. Rikki could see that the woman was aware something was wrong. She was trying to help, obviously talking to distract her, but between the humming of the lights, her voice and the flickering, the pain in Rikki's head had increased.

"You can take anything for a short period of time," she murmured to herself, uncaring that people thought her strange for talking to herself. If it helped her get through this without losing her mind, she'd talk to herself.

"Here you are, hon," Inez said, her voice that same brisk tone. "I'll just run them through fast."

Rikki pressed her fingers to her temples. "Put twenty dollars on Bill's tab and after I leave, will you take him coffee and something nutritious for breakfast?"

"Sure," Inez worked fast. "No peanut butter today?"

"I picked up a large supply a while ago."

"Are you having company? Your sisters over?"

Rikki drew cash from her wallet and put it on the counter, ignoring the query. Inez was still talking but Rikki couldn't make out the words. A thousand needles pricked her body, and she felt as if she was made of lead and could barely move. She couldn't have produced a sound even if she'd tried. She could feel each individual muscle, hear the blood flowing in her veins and pounding in her head. She hated those sensations, the overload that made no sense. It had taken years before she realized everyone else didn't have the same responses to stimuli in the environment around them. Her body felt as though it might break apart on her if she stayed one more moment.

She picked up the bags and hurried out, cursing under her breath. The man better eat these things slowly

because she wasn't ever putting herself through that again. Feeling sick and disoriented, she hurried to her truck and drove the few blocks to the headlands where she could park and get out and walk around on the bluffs overlooking the pounding sea. She got two feet from the truck and was sick, her stomach protesting the vicious stabbing in her skull.

Rikki stumbled down the narrow path through the heather to reach the edge where she could stand with the ocean stretching out in front of her like a cool blanket of gray blue. Whitecaps broke along the rocks and spray hissed up the sides of the cliffs. Gulls screamed and far out she saw a whale breech.

The wild chaos in her mind and body began to settle enough that her hands stopped trembling. She needed to be out on the water where she belonged. She didn't belong on land, in public, anyplace where there were other people. She didn't realize she was crying until her vision was completely blurred. She yanked off her dark glasses and rubbed angrily at her tears.

Lev had to go. He couldn't ruin her life. She couldn't deal with someone in her house. She knew what she was like. There was no pretending she'd be all right. She had nearly lost it right there in Inez's store. He just had to go. That was all there was to it.

She drove home faster than she normally did, not allowing any other thought to get the upper hand in her mind. She just had to finish this before it cost her too dearly. She parked the truck and, catching up the groceries, rushed up her back porch to the kitchen door. Lev must have heard her coming because he was there before her, unlocking the door so she didn't have to use the key.

Rikki pushed past him, dumped the grocery bags on the table and whirled to face him. "You have to go. You do. Right now. You just can't stay here and that's all there is to it," she blurted out.

Lev frowned and stepped close to her. Before she could elude him, he removed her glasses and looked at her eyes. "You've been crying. Rikki, tell me what happened to upset you. Talk to me."

She shook her head, stepping back, and to her horror fresh tears spilled over. "No talking. I'm done talking. You can't be here, that's all."

He went to the door, closed and locked it before turning back to her, his expression unreadable. "Lyubimaya, you're going to have to talk. I'm not leaving without finding out what happened to you."

She was trying not to sob, her emotions were out of control. She detested being out of control and it was his fault. Why couldn't he see that? "You'll touch my dishes and use the pans to cook with. I'll have to go to the store again and I can't. I just can't."

"You don't have to do anything, Rikki. Not for me. And if you don't want me to use these dishes or the pots and pans, I can buy some others. Come on, lyubimaya, what really happened?"

There was no way to make him understand because she didn't understand. She'd always thought her strangeness was due to her childhood, but others had suffered all kinds of trauma and they weren't like her. They didn't feel as if their entire body was going to come apart. Everyday noises didn't make their minds so chaotic that they couldn't think straight. They didn't need order the way she needed it--just to breathe.

His voice--gentle, almost caring, velvet soft--was her undoing. She turned and ran for the bedroom, slamming the door behind her and flinging herself on the bed. She reached under it to find her weighted blanket. Made of soft material, it had inner pockets of small pellets to provide the needed twelve to fifteen pounds for her body weight. She pulled it over her and jammed her hand in her mouth to try to stifle the weeping. She hadn't cried in months, and now, with someone nearby, she had to go and lose it.

After discovering that the pressure from her wet suit made her body feel less like it was flying apart, she'd recognized the calming effect of her vest and sought to find something that would help her off the water. She'd read a great deal about the blankets and knew the weight was supposed to help release serotonin by putting pressure on the sensory nerves in her muscles, joints and tendons, for a calming effect. Whatever. She didn't care how it worked, only that it did. And right now, she was feeling foolish and embarrassed and very tired. She wanted to curl up under the blanket and go to sleep. She heard him moving around the kitchen. It didn't sound like he was leaving. Maybe if she drifted off, he'd be gone when she woke.

The door to the bedroom pushed open and she closed her eyes with a soft groan of despair, wanting to just disappear.

"Rikki, I made coffee. Sit up and drink some. It will help. The groceries have been put away. I just want you to explain to me what happened."

She felt his weight on the edge of the bed. She blew out her breath in exasperation and abruptly sat up, dragging her blanket around her for comfort. "Do we really have to do this?"

"You don't owe me any explanations, but I'd like one."

She took the coffee and frowned at the dark liquid, not wanting to look at him. "I just need things a certain way."

"I can understand that, but it wouldn't make you cry."

"Why the hell do you care?" She resorted to belligerence. It usually pushed people away from her so she didn't have to try to deal with emotions she had difficulty keeping under control.

"You saved my life. You saw what kind of man I am and you still gave me a place to stay. I'll admit I don't remember a lot about my past, but it doesn't feel to me as if I know kindness. You showed me kindness."

"I'm not right, Lev." She clenched her teeth, hating to say it out loud. She didn't mind the way she was, as long as she stayed away from people. She liked her life. She was captain of her own boat. She made a good living. Why should she care that she couldn't go into a grocery store? She wouldn't if he wasn't there. She hated feeling inadequate.

"Neither am I. I'm not asking you to change. Tell me what you need to feel comfortable."

"It isn't reasonable for you."

"Rikki, look at me." Lev waited until she reluctantly lifted her tear-drenched gaze to his face. He wanted--even needed--to kiss her better, but she had huddled inside that peculiar blanket as if it were a fortress. "Don't you think I should decide what's reasonable for me? You took me in, not the other way around. I had to lie down the entire time you were gone, and if I didn't come in here and sit down, I would have fallen. I've got nowhere to go. At least give me a chance to put things right with you."

"I don't know how to explain it to you. I live alone. I have a certain order to things and I need it that way." She took a sip of coffee to steady herself. Her hands were trembling and her body reacted the way it always did when she was stressed, flooding with adrenaline and an anger that just seemed to take her over. Happy or angry or sad. There was rarely an in between for her, and anger was a way to keep people away from her. "I don't talk to people."

Amusement crept into his eyes. "Baby, I don't talk to people either. We aren't people. Here, in this house, there's only us. What we do, how we act, doesn't matter to anyone else. If you need order, teach me your order and I'll follow it. You steady me, Rikki. I don't know why, but I feel more balanced with you around."

She nearly spewed her coffee over him. Was he completely crazy? How in the world could she possibly keep someone else balanced? "You really did hit your head hard, didn't you?"

He smiled and touched his head. "Maybe it knocked some sense into me. I'd appreciate you letting me stay here for a while, Rikki. Let me try not to disrupt your routine. I can learn to eat peanut butter."

The look on his face was that of a man going valiantly to his doom. In spite of everything, laughter bubbled up. "I don't know what to do with you. It would be silly to buy new dishes and you can't eat peanut butter if you don't like it."

"Why don't you eat anything else?"

She frowned again, studying his face. "Textures bother me. It was just easier to find something I liked that was high enough in calories to sustain my work underwater."

"So you can eat other foods."

"I used to, before I lived by myself."

"Think of it as a great adventure. You can try new things and tell me what you like and don't like. Onc

e we have a list, we'll stick to it. And I'll keep the dishes clean."

She took a breath to try to still the pounding of her heart. Blythe was always telling her that she needed to stretch her limits, to keep expanding--not just in her thirst for knowledge, but in her social abilities. Living with someone would certainly come under that heading, wouldn't it? "I can't lie to my family."

"I haven't asked you to lie. If they ask questions, then answer them."

"Swear to me you won't hurt them."

"Honey, it makes no sense that you'd believe me."

"Do it anyway."

She stared into his eyes, seeking the truth. He didn't look away from her and she saw what she'd seen before in him--vulnerability. He looked tough as nails, a big, muscular man well versed in survival, but like Rikki, he wasn't at ease in the world of family and friends. He was an outsider--just as she was. In spite of all the problems having him there caused, she identified with him.

"We can try it, Lev, but living with me isn't going to be all that much fun."

He reached out and pushed strands of her hair from her face. "As long as I don't make you cry, I think we'll be all right."

"I want you to know it could be dangerous. Four homes have burned down around me. I escaped, but others didn't. People I loved. People who lived with me. You're taking a chance."

"You told me."

"I want you to believe me. The fires were arson."

He nodded. "I heard you. I'm not worried. I think you'll be a lot safer with me here."

"I'm not so worried about me, Lev. I don't want any more deaths on my hands."

He closed his eyes briefly and then looked into hers. "Neither do I, lyubiamaya, but you aren't responsible. No matter what others led you to believe, you didn't start those fires. A water element could never do such a thing."

"You said that before. What does that mean?" Because she was fairly certain he knew what her special gift was. He'd been there, in her mind, when she'd directed the pond to respond.