Page 64 of Cruel Tides

The surf shop was the largest of all the stores, its tall windows lit up with neon signs and its walls decorated with bright wave designs. The sign in front had blown down a few hurricanes ago, so instead of being put back on its pole, it leaned against the building with a rock garden strategically built around it. The pole remained, but now it had a new job, acting as an anchor for tourists to lock up their bikes.

My eyes swept down the strip. I was thankful for the cold snap, because no one was out walking. If I hurried, maybe no one would even notice I’d brought a sea lion into town.

“I’ll only be a minute if you want to wait for me out here.” I tried to sound polite, but there was no way I could let Laverne follow me inside the surf shop.

Desperate, I looked for something to entertain her out here. There weren’t any bikes chained to the pole, but I noticed an old-fashioned bike horn discarded in a planter beside it. I adjusted my wrap over my backside as I crouched down, pulling it out of the planter. After I brushed the dust off, I offered it to her—horn side first. “Here,” I said and gave it a test honk.

Laverne’s eyes shot wide, and I smiled. My hunch was correct—Laverne was just as easily entertained as her ‘brother.’

I honked it again and passed it into her jaws. “Give it a try.”

Her jaws clamped around it.Honk. Honk.

“Stay close, okay?” I said, and the horn jerked between her teeth as she honked it again. At least if she ran off, I’d be able to follow the honking to find her.

After a deep breath, I faced down the front door, hoping Mr. Brownlow, the shop’s owner, would let me use Dad’s credit. Dad had been helping maintain their fish tanks since before I came along. He dropped by the surf shop every week to check and adjust the salt water for their fish. When I was younger, he’d taken me along with him, and I’d sat in the back room painting new shells for their hermit crab enclosure.

Whenever Mr. Brownlow tried to pay him for his work, Dad had always insisted that keeping saltwater fish was a hobby he couldn’t afford for himself. Store credit had been a compromise both men could live with.

When I pushed through the door, Mr. Brownlow was quick to pop out from the backroom, a box cutter in his wrinkled hand. “Welcome!” He pushed up his thin-framed glasses, then blinked toward the windows like he was checking on the weather. I froze in place, wondering if he would spot Laverne outside, but all he said was, “Did it get warmer between my lunch break and now?”

“Ice plunge challenge.” I gave Mr. Brownlow a sheepish smile. “They, uh, say it’s good for the immune system.”

He still had a peculiar look, but he gave a slight nod before turning back to the backroom. “Keith should be around here somewhere,” he said with a wave of the box cutter. “Let him know when you’re ready to check out.”

“Wait, I—I left my wallet. Do you think I could use some of Dad’s credit?”

Mr. Brownlow spun right back around. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear that. I’ve been trying to push John into surfing, just so he’ll use up some of it. Get whatever you need. Just let Keith know to put it under your dad’s credit.”

“Thank you.” I couldn’t help but grin, picturing Dad with a surfboard while I headed to the men’s section. When I reached the colorful display of swim trunks, I was thankful that surf shops carried swimwear year-round.

They were on sale, too. Double win.

Ignoring the flashy patterns, I concentrated on the sizes, selecting the largest one I could find and wondering if it could fit Barren. “Hmm…” I worked through each row until I’d picked out a pair of swim trunks in every size—just in case.

“If it isn’t Claira,” a voice called from behind me, and I whirled around to Keith sporting his smug smile and company polo, his arms crossed high over his chest. But Keith, I didn’t care about. He was harmless enough, though he thought his job here at the surf shop was far beneath him. It was who was beside him that had my heart dropping like a stone.

“Hey, Red.” Shaun’s pale lips curled into a nauseating smirk.

They had a girl with them too, one who had been a classmate of ours, yet I couldn’t place her name—was it Darby? Or Darcy?

She leaned into Keith as she looked me up and down, like maybe she was trying to remember me, too. Then she perched a hand on his forearm, marking her territory.

Keith pushed away from her, his voice going as rough as sandpaper. “I told you, not while I’m working, Danny.”

Danny—right. My next guess. I cleared my throat and shifted behind my armful of swim trunks, using them to help conceal my bathing suit. I’d never liked the way Shaun looked at me. Like I was inferior to him.

But Shaun wasn’t done with me yet. No, by the cruel look in his eyes, he was only getting started. “Not so fast, Red,” he said, digging a hand into his pocket and pulling out something that made my heart freeze.

Upon seeing my reaction, his smirk stretched across his face. He laughed, cold and cruel, and waggled the little book he was holding in front of me. “Yeah, I thought you might want this back,” he whispered, leaning in.

My pocket diary.

Oh, god.

He’d taken my pocket diary out of my bag when he’d found it, and I hadn’t even noticed it was missing.

I’d written so much in there. So many secrets. Not about my origin, of course. I would never be stupid enough to leave evidence like that lying around. But there were other things in there. Humiliating things.

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