Filed To Story: The Saltwater Curse Book PDF Free
My pulse jumps, and I cast a nervous glance at the men going up to pay at the counter. “I’m not giving out my location. Just in case, you know. It’s not that I don’t trust you, I?—“
She stops me with a shake of her head. “I get it.”
I lower my voice, trying to inject every ounce of my fear and desperation. “We need passports. As soon as possible.”
The men she was eating with wait for her on the sidewalk, splitting their attention between me and Ordus. I subconsciously inch toward him, using the kraken as a barrier.
Deedee walks backward, giving me a noncommittal nod with the same blas? attitude she gives to everything that frustrates me to no end. “Call me, okay? We’ll sort it. Everything’s going to be fine.”
I don’t answer. Even if I wanted to, she already turned away, typing furiously at her phone.
Ordus and I watch her walk down the street with her entourage until she’s out of view. Cold sweat trickles down my spine. To hell with my four hours, I want to go right the fuck now. But I can’t hide out on the island and wait for the heat to die down when there’s heat on the goddamn island as well.
“I do not like her,” Ordus says, stirring me out of my thoughts. I drop onto the bench, realizing we’re still awkwardly standing in the middle of the restaurant. I tug him down. “She touched you and made you unhappy.”
He’ll need to be specific about which instance he’s referring to: the hug, the not-jealousy, that my demons are here, or all of the above.
“I don’t trust her or her men,” he continues.
I shake my head, staring at the barely touched plate in front of me. I’ve lost my appetite. Without a word, the waitress boxes up my meal after I point to Ordus’ Styrofoam container, then my plate.
“Deedee’s my friend,” I tell Ordus, tapping the table as I wait for the clerk to return. Is she my friend, though? Would friends wave off every concern the other person has?
“She smells wrong.” We sit in silence for a moment. “The American is your dead husband’s people?” He frames it like a question when he already knows the answer.
My throat is closed tight. I can’t speak. The walls are closing in, and I’m on a sinking ship with a life raft being held together by duct tape.
We stay on the mainland, we die.
We stay on the island, we die.
We leave the mainland and abandon Vasz, and we all die.
We’re stuck between a rock and a hard place, and the glass floor we’re standing on is cracking.
“Let’s go home,” I whisper, swallowing down the panic.
Ordus watches me intently with both joy and…shock? I replay what I said.
Home.
I blink, chewing over the word, but it never ends up tasting wrong. Saelim Island is my home. That realization hits me square in the chest. I…I don’t want the past month and a bit of my life to be temporary.
Ordus takes the plastic bag with our food from the waitress, then grabs our waterproof pack and pulls me right up against him, leading us toward the beach. It’s not making my nerves any better, but knowing we’re getting out of here isn’t making it any worse either.
I’m surrounded by ticking time bombs from all sides, and the only thing I’m certain of is that I don’t want to deal with it alone. If I could choose anyone, I’d choose Ordus.
Still, it doesn’t stop my racing pulse or my short breaths. I’m not any closer to being anywhere as delusionally carefree as I was all the times I was surfing on the island, blissfully ignorant to the fact krakens are dying and they want to eat me.
We spill back onto the beach, where people lounge on blow-up seats beneath glowing umbrellas, laughing, eating, drinking.
I follow him left, away from the congregation of people and overstimulating smells. Cigarette smoke, the nutty notes of sate, the gag-inducing whiff of nearby trash, spilled gasoline and exhaust fume, cologne, perfume, body odor, alcohol, the hint of the ocean breeze…
The sound of chatter, roaring engines, and the bouncy beat of nearby music aren’t any better the closer we get to the portion of the beach encased in darkness.
“I got this for you.”
Huh?
I zero in on the black purse in his hands. A
Chanel bag. What the hell? How did he—I quickly shove it back in the waterproof pack. “Where did you get this?” I hiss, looking around to make sure no one saw.
Ordus frowns. “While we were walking to dinner, I saw it left on a seat.” He says it so innocently, I almost feel bad for my tone. “You didn’t say I am not allowed to take items from the mainland.”
If his plan was to distract me from our impending doom, it’s working. The water is in sight. The safety of the cave is only a few long hours away. We can talk about…next steps.
“This is stealing.” It’s my fault, really. If I have to explain he shouldn’t murder someone, obviously I should’ve mentioned theft is also off the table.
We step straight into the water, since I can’t be bothered stripping. My dress is already ruined.
“No, it isn’t. No one claimed it.” Ordus looks so genuinely confused. “I saw other females wearing a bag, but you do not have one?—“
He suddenly goes still. Muscles locked. Unblinking. Frozen like time has stopped. Alarm bells scream in my head. Something’s wrong.
“Ordus?”
Nothing.
I gingerly touch his forearm. “Ordus, please.”
The hair on the back of my neck stands on end. What’s wrong with him? I grab him by the arms and shake him. He tips over, body stiff as stone. Half his head is beneath the waves. I don’t have the strength to lift him back up or drag him to the shore.
It’s the Curse. It has to be.
Goosebumps cascade over my flesh. “Or?—“
His name catches in my throat, a warm, fuzzy ball of cotton that dissolves down my chest and acts as armor around my racing heart. Time slows, and my muscles turn to steel.
Then, everything goes black.
30
New Book: Returned To Make Them Pay
On her wedding anniversary, Alicia is drugged and stumbles into the wrong room—straight into the arms of the powerful Caden Ward, a man rumored never to touch women. Their night of passion shocks even him, especially when he discovers she’s still a virgin after two years of marriage to Joshua Yates.