He returned to his motorcycle parts, still chuckling intermittently at my expense. I went to one of the wooden stools and sat down. My legs felt a little shaky, and the ache in my chest was back. I debated on another run.
"Look, I get it," Mack said, all the humor gone from his face. "It hurts like a motherfucker. The way I see it, you have two choices. You can take control of that pain, or you can let it control you."
"How do I control it?" I asked, desperate to know the answer. To get rid of the ache. To go back to the night before she pushed me away.
"Go and get your woman."
CHAPTER TEN
Carina
Hot water ran over my face until my skin felt numb. I was avoiding reality. My tickets had been purchased, and I was packed. I'd been making the same trip every month for almost a year, and I wondered how much longer I could keep doing it. It was madness and I couldn't believe what my life had become. What was the legal limit on the amount of bullshit one person could handle before you ended up running stark naked down the street and howling at the moon?
Brando would probably never talk to me again. I'd asked him to stay away and forget about me. After what we'd done together, I knew I'd never be able to forget about him. The memories made my nipples harden, the same way they did when he'd pinched them between his teeth. He'd worshiped me with his eyes, taking in every inch of me as if I were a rare work of art. My imperfections were forgotten. His mouth ignited passions I thought only existed in romance novels.
Your skin smells like strawberries...Carina...will you let me have you?
I picked up my strawberry scented body wash, pulled back the shower curtain, and tossed it into the trash bin. I would never use it again and not think of Brando. Tears welled in my eyes, but I forced them away. There was no time for a pity party. Things much more important than my selfish needs were at stake.
My life hadn't always been so troubled. I could remember happier times full of big smiles and warm hugs. Barefoot summers in Tennessee with my mother's family. The smell of Aunt Alice's flower garden and playing hide and seek behind Uncle James' hardware store with my cousins Asher, Trevor, Nico, and Cash. The Mayson family had been a significant part of my childhood.
I was the youngest of the bunch and the smallest. I remember asking Uncle James if I could help at the cash register. His response was, "You're barely knee-high to a duck, Carina. How are you going to see over the countertop?" He chuckled and patted me on the head. After that, the boys went crazy with the nickname. "Knee-high...Knee-high." It honestly didn't bother me, but it sure upset my brother, Jamie. It was in his nature to be a protector, and I knew I could always count on him.
I stepped out of the shower, wrapped a giant towel around me, then plugged in my hairdryer. Blowing out my heavy red locks would take forever, but I knew I needed more time to think. My trips were risky. One wrong move could jeopardize everything. Worst of all, I didn't want to give Madelyn the satisfaction of watching me fail.
Though it was hard to imagine, my mother hadn't always been so...malevolent. She used to be happy. Her words were soft-spoken, her touches gentle. She laughed often and with love in her eyes. My father was the reason for that. The two of them were always holding hands and smiling at one another.
They'd met their freshman year in college, though neither graduated because my brother, Jamie, was born before either had turned twenty. My mother's family believed in love and not just any kind. The Maysons had laid claim to an irrevocable connection that could only happen once in a lifetime. It was an indescribable feeling for those who had found it and an unfathomable idea to those who had not. Imagine having a special internal radar that could lock in on your soul mate? We're talking genuine love at first sight territory.
The result was a massive revelation that could only exist when your heart recognized its home. That life-changing moment was known as the "boom." Nothing had ever sounded so scary and intriguing all at once. I used to wor
ry about locking eyes with other kids on the playground for fear that it would happen. It was torture to my eight-year-old psyche. It was terrifying to be around people with a magical power I couldn't control. What if my "boom" was someone I didn't want it to be and were they required to feel the same way about me? Who did I have to contact to reset my radar? Imagine my heartbreak when I'd chosen Anton Brooks from my seventh-grade study hall to be the one, only to have nothing happen. That's when I realized I couldn't tap into it or much less control it. There was no way to prepare for the power it would eventually have over me.
I pulled on a pair of yoga pants and zipped up my warmest hooded sweater. It was always freezing on the plane. I glanced at the clock, relieved I still had time to catch the midnight ferry back to the mainland. My carry-on case was stuffed full of everything I would need for the next week, which also meant it was heavy. It landed with a hefty thunk on the wooden deck when I set it down to lock the door. The Fox family had been kind enough to rent me the little studio apartment above the restaurant. It had become vacant right after Jonna Fox had married and moved out. Before that, I was forced to live with Madelyn because my options were limited. I'd only just returned to Sea Whisper Island, and I foolishly thought my mother would be interested in reconnecting with her daughter. I had been wrong.
The ferry dock was only a few minutes from Annette's Catch, so I dragged my overloaded suitcase behind me, the little wheels rattling along the sidewalk. The streets were quiet besides a few people strolling along the boardwalk. In the distance, there was the faint sound of a buoy bell clinking and the crashing of waves. The brisk night air blew across my cheeks and tendrils of my red hair swished around my face. I knew I was almost there as soon as the bright lights of the ferry came into view. As I crossed the street, a strong crosswind blew the worn ball cap from my head. I ran after it as it rolled and skittered along the sidewalk until I was able to pin it down with my foot. In front of me stood the ten-foot bronze statue of Captain Silver Eye. I examined the likeness of a man dressed as a pirate positioned proudly at the helm of his ship with one hand gripping at the wheel. It was an odd thing to see. While others barely spared the statue a glance, I grew up staring at the face of my five times great-grandfather. The Risto family roots ran quite deep on Sea Whisper Island. I wondered what The Great Captain Silver Eye would say if he could see what his family had become.
I settled onto a seat near the window and stared off into the distance. My stomach turned as it usually did before my trips. Nerves. For a few short days, I could pretend everything was okay and that the nightmare was over. Except, it wasn't. With each passing day, I felt more and more like a failure. I had to come up with something and fast.
I'd thought about Brando. I hated the way things ended the other night. Maybe I should have just checked on him or at least let him know I was leaving for a little while. We'd never exchanged phone numbers, so I had no way of contacting him even if I wanted to. There had been no need to complicate his life. Brando was a good man, but not even he would be willing to take on my shit. Hell, I could barely handle it. I kept telling myself I'd done the right thing. That didn't mean it hurt any less.
I tucked my hands into my pockets and watched the lights from Sea Whisper Island disappear as we sailed toward Key City. Once we arrived, I planned to catch a cab to Charleston and wait around for my early morning flight to Mexico.
On the cab ride to the airport, my lids grew heavy as I stared at the yellow dotted lines along the middle of the road. The driver was a stocky black woman with short, gray hair and a raspy voice. She had jazz music playing through the speakers. A woman out driving a cab at that time of night seemed risky to me. However, Cora, as the name on her credentials stated, looked like she might be able to take down most men fair and square, plus judging by the Glock she had tucked between the seats, anyone would be a fool to mess with her.
"Go ahead, pumpkin. We've got an hour drive ahead. Rest. I'll wake you when we get there," Cora called over her shoulder, her voice gruff, but her intentions sweet. "What's a poor thing like you doing out this time at night?" She tsked, her question rhetorical. The motion of the car, the soothing music, and Cora’s gruff but caring words were the perfect combination. I let my eyes drift closed, and for a little while, I allowed someone else to be in charge. It was rare for me to let someone else to determine my fate willingly.
The cab pulled to a stop, the motion bringing me awake just as Cora had announced our arrival. I paid the fare and left a hefty tip, to which the driver smiled gratefully and gave me her card.
"That's sweet of you, Pumpkin. Call me next time you need a ride."
I nodded, tucked the card into my bag, then turned toward the sliding doors that led to the check-in counter.
"Be safe out there," Cora called from behind me.
"You too." I turned and shot back a standard response.
"Child, please." Cora chuckled and waved a hand at the absurdity of my words before she drove away. I pulled out my phone and pounded out a quick text as I walked inside.