Page 29 of Riding the Tide

“I know.” Nisha had. Repeatedly. “I’m ready. Are you two ready to go?”

“Anxious much?” Kannon slapped him on the shoulder as they walked to the front of the bungalow.

He was, but he refused to admit it out loud. Instead he dodged the subject. “I appreciate you guys driving me over.”

“It’s no problem. And don’t forget Brett has extra golf carts if you need to use one of them,” Kannon said.

“I will.” He climbed in the back seat. He couldn’t help but notice Kannon was driving, which was probably a good thing. He wasn’t sure how much experience Nisha had, and he didn’t want to find out right now.

It didn’t take them long to reach the resort. They dropped him off and left. Marcus was glad to see they hadn’t intended to stay. Kannon looked like he wanted to… in which case Marcus probably would’ve strangled him.

He walked into Sandals, and the hostess met him immediately. Thank goodness Brett set all this up for him. He followed her to a table that was indeed set out of the way with a lovely view of the ocean. He seated himself, and a glass of water was put in front of him. He thanked the waiter, picked up the glass, and took a sip.

Now all he had to do was wait.

TWO HOURS later, he stormed out of the restaurant, chest tight as fury rode him hard. It was all he could do not to growl at the passing humans. At least they had enough sense to get the hell out of his way.

Gritting his teeth, he tried to ignore his pounding head as he marched toward the ocean. He grabbed the top of the shirt, seconds away from ripping it off, when he remembered Nisha saying he wanted it back.

Chest heaving, and nearly at his wits end, he stumbled to a stop. As badly as he wanted the clothes off, he couldn’t destroy them. Not after all the time and trouble Nisha and Kannon had gone through. But if he didn’t get off of this bedamned land, he was going to lose his mind.

Blair stood him up.

He buried his head in his hands, a strangled sob escaping him. Of all the things he expected tonight, this actually never crossed his mind. More fool him, apparently. He choked the tears back. He’d cut his own tail off before he let them fall. He was a warrior, strong and brave, and he’d be damned if he was going to let a human do this to him.

His upper lip pulled back in a snarl exposing one of his sharp canines. Humans. Fucking humans. This,thiswas why he didn’t want to be mated to one. They were unpredictable. Uncaring. A mer would have never done this to him. He flushed. He sat in that restaurant for hours on end, waiting. Nervous. Excited.

Then time dragged out and the nerves grew teeth in the pit of his stomach. Other humans cast glances his way, but he refused to make eye contact. They knew what was going on. The pity in their gazes lay heavily upon his skin. But still he waited. Hoped. More time passed. The server’s trips to the table became less frequent; he too was unwilling to make eye contact.

Nerves and excitement gave way to bewilderment and finally anger. There was also a good dose of mortification in there. Two hours. Twohourshe sat there like a dumbass waiting for someone who obviously had no intention of showing up.

The look on the humans’ faces as he stormed out of the restaurant only added to his embarrassment. How dare Blair do this to him? Howdarehe? But underneath his resentment and anger, pain curled around his heart.

His mate rejected him. He was unwanted—cast aside. And if he didn’t get out of these clothes and into the water soon, he was going to completely break down. Unable to see a way around it, he stomped back to the resort.

He went straight to the front desk and demanded they call Brett. He stood in the lobby, fidgeting, wishing Brett would hurry up and get there. What little hold he retained on his temper was quickly disintegrating.

“Hey! What’s up? Do you need the golf cart after—”

Marcus jerked around at Brett’s voice.

“Oh. Oh, damn. Shit.” Brett hurried to Marcus’ side and gently—almost as if he was scared to touch him—grasped Marcus’ elbow. “O-okay, why don’t we head up to my place?”

Marcus didn’t say a word, just let Brett steer him where he wanted him to go. He centered his attention on his breathing. That seemed to be the only thing he could control, so that was what he focused on.

Because frankly, he was afraid if he opened his mouth he’d start screaming—and the sound would not be human. Visions of shattering all the glass around him entertained him as it exploded and rained down upon the humans.

The elevator opened to Brett’s private suite, and Brett urged Marcus into the room. “What happened?”

“I can’t…” Marcus took another breath. “I need out of these clothes. Now. Before I rip them to shreds, and I don’t want to do that. Can’t do that. That’s not the way to repay…help me.” Marcus closed his eyes. He never asked for help. That’s what that fucking human had reduced him to.

“Absolutely. What do you need?”

“Shorts. Swim trunks. Something, anything. I need clothes you don’t give a damn about being destroyed so I can get to the water. Please.”

“Give me a few minutes, and I’ll have what you need. Why don’t you start taking off those clothes? Just throw them on the couch. I’ll be right back.”

One breath in. One breath out. One breath in. One breath out. In. Out. In. Out. He stripped out the clothes and tossed into them on the nearest couch as he was told.

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