Page 32 of Undertow

“I want to help, I’m just not sure I can do what your mom wants,” I say. “I’m not a spy. I don’t…” I clench my fist on my knee. “What if they find out?”

She pulls beneath a carport beside a small cottage-like home that’s surprisingly modest for the heir to the Hartford throne.

Turning to me, she takes my hand and smooths out my tight fist. “They won’t. We’ll be guiding you the whole way. Exactly what to do and say.”

“How? Once I go back to Palmetto Acres I won’t even see you. I’ll be on my own.”

She shakes her head, a smile cresting on her lips. “No. After you left the meeting we came up with a plan. You’re going to stay with me. Your cover is that we’re dating, which is why you’ll be living in Undertow, even though you’re working in Palmetto Acres. If they question you, you can even use this as an excuse for why you left today and spent the night in Undertow.”

So my new cover is my original cover. I feel the rumble of the universe’s snort-laugh.

I’m being asked by both sides to accomplish the same goal by the same means.

“If honey doesn’t get the job done, you know what to do.”

And the same threats.

“Trust me, it’s not unusual for Palmetto employees to fraternize with the locals. They all hang out here on their downtime,” she continues when I don’t respond. “No one would question it.”

From my research, I know she’s right. With its exclusive access to the mainland, Undertow is the logistical hub of the island. It has the marina, the main road, the pier, the restaurants, stores, and other tourist traps.

Palmetto Acres may be the attractive veneer of the private island, but Undertow is the heartbeat.

It wasn’t hard to figure out why these families hate each other. They have a parasitic relationship where they both need their rival to survive. Undertow’s existence revolves around the tourists lured by the famous Palmetto Grande resort. But nothing and no one can access the acclaimed vacation paradise without passing through Undertow, i.e.paying the tollthat’s looking more and more like a cost way beyond some token fee.I still don’t know what that is, which is part of my mission.

Something is funding this family beyond the slew of small businesses, and there’s no doubt in my mind it’s as sinister as the sins on the other side of the island.

Julia leans in, making it impossible to focus on anything but her fresh, floral scent and soft lips.

“We just have to play the part,” she whispers, her gaze locking on mine. “Can you do that, Shaw? Can you pretend to want me?”

Pretend to want her? The harder thing would be pretending not to.

Her fingers lace with mine, squeezing gently as she studies the knot of our hands. Whose idea was this setup? I’m not entirely convinced it was Mama H’s.

“You promise I won’t get hurt?” I say, meeting her gaze.

Her dark blue eyes search mine. “I promise,” she lies.

But she doesn’t know she’s lying. She doesn’t know I’m going to get hurt.

I always do. Because Gramps was wrong. Iamwired for this life.

I’m wired to be a victim of it.

Permanence can’t exist in a world with its chest heaving,

failing to resurrect the lifeless limbs that once set innocence in motion.

Heart pumping and unbroken.

As long as it will be until forever comes crashing down from the heavens to lay to waste our dreams of something real,

something beyond ourselves,

your words will sing a refrain against the chaos of my mind that will last until eternity gives its final bow.

Carefully sorted yet entirely unfiltered, each syllable striking me perfectly, raptured by the beautiful ignorance behind the hope that guides your speech.

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