Page 12 of These Rough Waters

I shouldn’t have stayed here but I supposed it was my way of punishing myself. Having the constant reminders of a life stolen too soon because of the decisions I made. Watching the town mourn the loss of a woman who had spent her entire life here because of what I did.

If death wouldn’t take me then this was the only way to repent for my crimes.

It was one last job. One last adrenaline rush. One last power high.

I was supposed to be spending the day with Grace and Leo, but my brother had called, and it didn’t take much convincing for him to talk me into the mission he’d just been handed. Three high value targets with a hundred grand price tag on each head. Split equally between me and my brother, it was a no brainer. Until the job was done, the money was transferred and I’d somehow convinced Grace to come with me, lying about how I was running an errand and it would be done in an hour or so. I hadn’t been wrong about the time, but I didn’t check the weather, didn’t check if a storm was coming and it was my lack of due diligence that ended in tragedy.

I could feel myself wheezing in front of the graves, my lungs struggling to bring in enough oxygen as everything wanted to shut down and the walls were closing in.

But then I smell it, almost a phantom whisper of a scent. Spring. The promise of wildflowers and warm rain and those knots loosen a touch.

I sag on the cold earth, thinking back to the car and Maya, her bruises, her soft nature that appears to be concealing a simmering fire that when stoked, I had no doubt couldburn.

So, I focus on her, the mysterious woman who fled on a boat with her young daughter in favor of staying on the mainland.

Running.

She was running.

But what was she running from, I wondered as I began the clean up once more of the gravestones, hands tracing the names etched finely into the stone.

Curiosity was a bitch, wasn’t it?

It sits at the edges of the mind, coercing you to look a bit more, a bit deeper, tempting you with small glimpses to hold your attention and keep your focus.

It hadn’t surprised me the woman had found herself within Ruthie’s grasp, that woman was a nurturer, didn’t matter how or who, she would help. I should have anticipated it when I arrived at the lodge this morning, yet was still surprised when I saw them.

But the parts that intrigue me are the past, the events that have led to this moment and how much of herself Maya is burying under that soft, and quiet exterior.

With the ache now dulled to the familiar constant throb I was used to, I pack up the cleaning supplies and head back to the truck, the first icy droplets of rain starting to fall. I could hear the crash of waves, the sea turning turbulent and unforgiving while the wind increases in strength. It would be a nasty storm, that much I was sure of.

By the time I’m pulling up at the side of the road outside the store it’s now raining so heavily the roads have started to flood and the trees bend with the gusts of wind, threatening to break. But I sit there for five minutes, then ten, waiting, watching but the woman does not show.

“For fucks sake,” I grumble, turning off the engine and heading inside, shielding myself from the storm. It had been at least an hour since I dropped her off and while this was the biggest store in town it wasn’tthatbig, she should be done by now.

It’s damn near empty when I get inside, shoes dropping water on the linoleum floor.

I search each aisle looking for her, and with the layout it would be impossible to miss her. She wasn’t here anymore.

It would take at least twenty minutes to walk from here to the lodge but in this weather, fuck knows how much longer.

“Goddamnit, woman,” I curse, throwing myself into the truck. I head back towards the lodge slowly, squinting through the window, watching out for a lone body walking and when I spot her, drenched head to toe, carrying several bags while trying to fight the wind something in me clicks.

I don’t know what, but I didn’t fucking like it.

“Maya!” I yell, coming to a stop, “Get in the damn truck!”

“I’m fine,” She stubbornly replies.

“Get in the truck, woman.”

“Don’t you fucking ‘woman’ me,” She snaps back before freezing immediately, spine stiffening, “I’m sorry.”

My brows draw down, “What?”

“That was rude.”

“Get in the truck,” I order again, somehow softer than I was before. I didn’t want her to freeze to death after all.