God save her soul.
5
Chapter Five
Present Day
“He’s late, Ren. Are you sure he’s coming?” Samantha let the curtains slip between her fingers, allowing them to fall closed as she turned back to pace across the living room floor.
“He’s coming, Sam. I called him ten minutes ago, and he said he’s on his way. He’ll be there. Relax.”
“We’re going to hit traffic.”
Laughter came from the receiver. “Lunch time traffic?”
“Be quiet!” She held back a tiny grin and leaned against the wall. “I’ve been dressed for over an hour, I hardly slept, making sure I had everything ready, and his being late really pisses me off. I thought you said he’d changed?”
“He overslept, Sam, he’ll be there. Look, if he isn’t there in thirty minutes, I’ll buy you a coke.”
Samantha closed her eyes. “A rum and coke.”
“Whatever you want,” Renee agreed. “But I have to get back to practice. Can you call me when he gets there?”
Samantha sat down on her couch and clicked on the TV. “Sure. But if he’s not here in an hour I’m leaving without him.”
“Fair enough,” Renee replied. “I’ll see you in a few days.”
“Okay.”
“Bye.”
“Bye.” Samantha placed her cell beside her on the couch and leaned back to switch the channel to Judge Judy. She’d been so stressed about this morning’s trip that she’d hardly slept at all. She kept having dreams about Tristan. About him hanging by his fingertips on the edge of a cliff and calling her name. “Sammie! Sammie!”
She would try to go to him, but the closer she got, the faster her heart would pound, because she couldn’t make her feet move. Even though she could see he was falling, she couldn’t go to him. She was afraid that if she did, she’d go over the cliff with him.
The dream was dark and disturbing to say the least, but there was so much truth to it. She was afraid of seeing Tristan again. Afraid that seeing him would pull her wild heart right out of her chest. Just like he had in the middle of the lake six years earlier.
Six years earlier
“Just jump, already!”
Samantha stood at the water’s edge, looking down from the dock as Tristan waded in the darkness of the lake below. A shiver raced through her. Not because it was cold—if anything, it was a hotter than usual. She shivered because suddenly she wasn’t sure she wanted to be there. She looked back over her shoulder. Toward the cabin where her best friend was still sleeping, sure she was making a huge mistake. But the evening was perfect, the sky crystal clear, displaying a plethora of stars too many to count, and the smells of the wilderness mingled with the scent of freedom.
“How deep is it?” she finally asked, as she dropped her towel to the edge of the dock. Her black bathing suit was simple, nothing too sexy or revealing, though she still had to stop herself from crossing her arms at her chest for more protection. Samantha had a curvaceous body. Large breasts and hips to match, but she was incredibly self-conscious. She’d been aware at an early age that her curves were a distraction. Hyper-aware, even in sixth grade, when the boys started ogling.
“Not deep.” He stood up in the water, indicating it hit him mid-stomach. “Jump, already!”
Before she could talk herself out of it, knowing she’d be much more comfortable shielded by the dark water, she held her breath and jumped out as far as she could manage. But instantly, she started sinking. Her eyes bulged and her arms flailed about in panic. She desperately tried to get back to the surface, but the more she struggled the deeper she sank. She couldn’t get her head above water—not high enough to take a full breath.
Before she knew what was happening, Tristan’s arms wrapped around her belly and he jetted them both toward the surface. He wrapped one arm around her neck, his body like a floatation device, keeping her above water as he swam on his back toward a large fallen branch.
He helped her up to sit, where she coughed and sputtered, the water she’d almost drowned in expelling from her throat and lungs.
“You can’t swim, can you?” he asked, out of breath. “You can’t fucking swim!”
She coughed out the last bit of water, clinging to the branch and pulling in as much air as she could manage. “You lied to me! How did you do that? You were standing, I saw you!”
“There was a branch—” But then he smoothed the wet hair from her cheek and examined her face. “I didn’t know, Sammie. Are you okay?”
She pushed at his chest, startled by his closeness, startled by the fact that she thought he’d be laughing, but he wasn’t. He looked worried, if anything, almost scared.