Page 23 of Unravel Me

“Really. Wow. What kind of backhanded suggestion is that? And what are you trying to say? Just because I’m a woman I can’t keep up with your masculine pace? Fuck you, buddy. I’ve been running my entire life by myself. I don’t need you now.”

“Easy there, sweetheart. I was saying it because you’re a tiny little thing and I’m . . .” He repeats my earlier hand motion up and down his body. “My strides are longer. But by all means, let’s go. Show me what you’ve got.”

I give him a dramatic eye roll as he throws on his hoodie and stretches his legs.

We take off and he lets me set our pace for the first mile. I keep my head down and my hat low as we wind our way out of the long gravel lane. Luckily, my parents’ house sits near the border of Aspen Ridge, away from other houses, and not remotely close to the downtown area.

“So, Daddy’s a lawyer, huh? What is it that you do, Drogo?”

“That’s right. He has his own firm in the city. I’m a bit of a disappointment to him, though. I’m actually a tattoo artist.”

“Wow. I didn’t expect that, but now that I know, it fits. Did you do any of your own tattoos?”

“Interesting question. But yeah. Practiced a bit on my leg when I was an apprentice and then once I got good I did the design on my left wrist. It’s more difficult. And I appreciate others’ work, so the rest have been done by other artists. You got any?”

I can’t help the grin that spreads across my face. “Nope. Virgin skin,” I say just to taunt him.

“Fucking hell, Ivy,” he groans. “Let me know if you’d like to give me that privilege, I’d be more than happy to be your first.”

“Is that right?”

“Mmm,” is all he responds with. “So, what about you? What do you do?”

Nope. Not going there. I should have known better than to ask questions and not expect them in return.

“How’d you end up in Aspen Ridge?”

He chuckles, clearly amused by my lack of clever avoidance. He hesitates on his answer, thinking it through.

“Uh, an ex-girlfriend actually. Didn’t work out.”

“Ahh. Sorry.”

Lies. He just pulled that out of his ass. He has a story, but I don’t want to dig further and give him an opening to do the same.

We continue in silence for a few more blocks and before we reach the town I turn to jog down the trail that leads to Grace Beach without much thought. My body relies on muscle memory and takes me exactly where it needs to go. After a mile of woodsy terrain, the trees open up to the rocky coastline. I jog over the driftwood and rock-covered shore, pebbles and sea glass crunching under my sneakers until I’m standing right in front of the violent crashing waves. The little beach sits on the rocky, coastal edge of Aspen Ridge, nestled by large Sitka spruce trees.

Surprisingly, our town was named after the founding family, not Aspen trees.

Thick fog hides most of the rock formations that rest out in the water by themselves. Clouds cover the beach, casting a gray, moody feeling that has always whispered promises of peace and tranquility to me. I feel the first drops of rain touch my body in a welcoming caress. This. This is what coming home is supposed to feel like. For the first time in many, many years, I feel safe and whole. I take a deep breath of the fresh salty air, filling my lungs with the crispness that is so specific to this very spot. This tiny part of the world was always my safe place, the one place on earth where the rawness is pulled from me, unforgiving and ruthless, much like the waves of the ocean in front of me. My heart rate steadily increases until it’s poundingagainst my ribcage and all of the tension and stress I’ve been carrying courses through my bloodstream at once, adrenaline slamming into me with a force so hard I stagger on my feet. I lean against a large piece of driftwood, the cold, rough bark against my palm doing nothing to ground me. I’m consumed with all of the emotions I’ve kept locked up. For so long I’ve had to be strong and independent. I’ve kept it all hidden behind thick walls because it was my only option. I’ve done everything I was supposed to do, only to end up right back here.

I watch the waves rise and crash as emotions and unwanted thoughts wreak havoc on my body. My head tilts back to face the dreary skies as the clouds open up and rain crashes down.

I break.

A bloodcurdling scream rips from my throat as I fist my hands tightly, my nails breaking the skin on the inside of my hand. “Fuuuuuuuuuck!”

My body collapses onto the rocky shore and I pull my knees up to my chest. The tears cascade down my cheeks, mixing with the rain. “Goddammit!” I yell to no one in particular. My heart shatters and I can’t control the tears now that they’ve started. The waves of sadness and anger crash over me.

Lost in my turmoil, I don’t notice my running companion sit next to me and cocoon me in his large arms, pulling me effortlessly into his lap.“Hey, hey. Shhh. It’s okay. Whatever it is. It’s okay.”

I want to recoil from his hold and take a seat next to him, but my body sinks into his instead, needing comfort, no matter how foreign it feels. He wraps his arms around me in a reassuring hold and I breathe him in. He smells of sweat, salt air, and cedar.

“Shh. I promise, you’re okay.” Reid rubs one of his hands up and down my back as he lulls me in a soothing tone. I haven’t been held like this in so long, and it adds to the ache in my chest.

The rain slows to a steady drizzle while Reid holds me on the damp beach ground, surrounded by nothing but the Sitka trees and the ocean. The waves continue to crash, water lapping at the shoreline in front of us. I work to steady my breathing and wait for my tears to dissipate, along with my anger, disappointment, and sadness.

“Thank you,” I whisper as I sniffle through my breakdown.

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