Page 26 of Sink or Swim

“Over here,” Maurice barks out to Kyle, who is behind the steering wheel.

The kid is a pretty decent driver, despite his age. We only brought three of the new boys along with us: Kyle, Reese, and Dwight. Maurice’s new tech team, or so he says, and the ones who know how to set off the charges safely.

“Bring us in nice and gentle. We don’t want to get too close just in case.”

It’s taking forever for our guys to unload every box and unpack everything. My gaze remains fixed on the tree-lined path that Oona and I walked every morning after fishing. Should I go try to find her? I could create some sort of excuse for the guys and come back before they start to miss me.

Turning back toward Maurice, I say, “I’ll be right back. Need to drain the snake.”

Maurice opens his mouth to say something in response, but I’m already gone, racing down the path in the direction of our tree house. It takes me a whole ten minutes of running as fast as I can before I make it to the bottom of the rope.

“Oona? Oona!” I shout, hoping she’s awake and can hear me.

But when she doesn’t answer me, something gnaws at my gut, telling me that I should go up there and look for her myself.

“Oona?” I grab the rope, grit my teeth, and pull myself up to the top. It’s only the second time I’ve ever made the climb myself, and I’m already exhausted, panting, and dripping with sweat. I feel like my lungs are on fire, burning from the exertion of just making sure I don’t fall and break my legs.

I don’t waste any time going from room to room in search of my girlfriend, but after running around the entire house yelling my head off, it’s time to come to the bitter realization that she isn’t here. But where could she have gone? It’s still morning, which means she’d either be gathering firewood or cooking. I grimace the entire way down the rope and check the perimeter for any sign of my lizard queen.

Nope. No Oona anywhere. Not in the brush, not by the stream, not by the campfire where we liked to trade stories and brush up on our language skills. It’s like she’s just disappeared. But that doesn’t seem right. She’s an eight-foot lagoon monster.

Unless … she never made it back after she left me at the docks?

Ice floods my veins at the thought of anything happening to Oona. My sweet, beautiful mate. I shake my head and grip my scalp, pulling at my hair so hard it hurts.

“Everything okay?” a gruff voice calls out. I jerk my head up and see Maurice and the other guys lingering behind him, confusion written across their young faces. I frown.

“I—I….” How do I even explain this? Where do I even begin?

Maurice looks around, his jaw dropping slightly in awe at the tree house and its many rooms. “Did you … construct this? Is this yours, Nick?”

I let out a soft chuckle. “God, no. You think I could make something like this? I can’t even make toast. Well, used not to be able to make toast. Now I can make all kinds of things if I have a campfire and a good knife.”

Maurice stares at me like he’s looking at an entirely new animal and it has six heads all spitting fire.

“Yo, you take forever to pee, man,” Kyle says behind Maurice. “You could have pissed in front of us and no one would have cared. No need to go all the way out into Bumfuckville.”

Maurice continues to stare at me, the corners of his dark eyes crinkling. Then he runs his fingers down his bushy mustache, like he’s trying to work out a complicated puzzle in his head. “What’s going on, Nick? You’ve been acting … not like yourself since we got you back. Now we find you here at the Swiss Family Robinson Tree House. Want to share with the rest of the class?”

Running a palm down my face, I let out a deep sigh. I start from the beginning. Being tossed into the water and left to drown. Being rescued by Oona. Living with Oona. Falling in love with her. Then having to say goodbye when I wasn’t expecting to. All of it. The boys listen quietly to my tale, nodding along or wincing at certain parts of the story, like with the leeches.

When I’m finished, no one says anything. They all just shift their weight from side to side and look at one another, like they aren’t sure what to make of me anymore.

But Maurice takes a few steps forward, claps a hand on my shoulder, and smiles. “All right,” he rasps. “So, we help you find her.”

My brows knit together. “Wait, what? You’d do that? But what about bombing Jonah’s crew?”

“We can’t do that until we get your lady back safe and sound, right? So, we’ll split up. Look around for her,” he says, then glances back at the others and nods. They nod back at him, ready to follow his orders.

I can’t believe it. First of all, I didn’t expect them to believe me. Especially not Maurice. I expected them to laugh, tell me I’m crazy, or even shoot me. “No, no splitting up,” I say. “She’s eight feet tall and dangerous. If she sees you in her woods, she’s more likely to kill you on sight.”

“Holy shit, eight feet tall? She sounds like my type,” Reese says, and the other guys snicker and slap him upside the head.

I roll my eyes. “Careful, Reese. You try to flirt with her, and she’ll take your head clean off your shoulders with her claws then use your skull for a sippy cup.”

Reese’s skinny, tatted throat bobs up and down. “Huh. Okay, but can she just … sit on me? Just for a minute? I promise not to touch her. I just want to?—”

I growl—actually growl—at Reese. “No, you may not. She’s mine.” My gaze darkens. “Got that? Do you all understand that? No one says anything inappropriate to my girlfriend or tries to touch her. Got it?”

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