Fight the Tide (27 page)

Adam wanted to press close and hold him, but he stayed flat on his back, his hands fisted in the sheets. He stared at the logs of the ceiling as the night marched on and they were both wide awake.

*

The boat wasn’t
swaying.

Adam couldn’t hear the water, or Parker breathing, and where were Craig and the kids? In a single motion, he opened his eyes and shot to his feet. Staring down at the empty, rumpled bed, the pieces fell into place. Salvation Island. They’d actually made it.

Safe
.

The feeling of home surrounded him, flowing over his skin and burrowing beneath. He still felt the warmth of Connie taking his hand in hers. It was different than when he’d met Ramon. The word she’d used returned to Adam:
omega.
A lone wolf. He wondered if his mother or father had been the alpha of their little family pack. He didn’t recall one of them being more comforting or powerful or than the other. To him, they’d just been Mom and Dad.

Here, it wasn’t just Connie and Theresa—he could feel the hum of hundreds of other wolves. But instead of frightening him as it had in the past, now it enveloped him in an embrace. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply.

Still, he had to be cautious. He wouldn’t accept anything blindly or be too trusting. Parker was right that they needed to be on their guard, even though Adam’s instincts told him they were safe. Parker—

Adam opened his eyes. Where was Parker? He realized with a jolt that he couldn’t hear him in the cabin. “Parker?”

Silence, but for the birds in the trees beyond the cabin and insects and small creatures scurrying in the undergrowth. Adam tugged on his jeans and worn T-shirt and shoved his feet into his boots. Parker had probably just woken early and gone to check on Jacob. He was fine. There was nothing to worry about.

Adam’s pulse still raced, his stomach swooping.

He tracked Parker’s scent along the paths between cabins, down to the water, spotting him at the foot of the series of interconnected docks and boats. Approaching from behind with a sigh of relief, Adam said, “Here you are.” He reached out, but Parker jerked away from his touch. Irritation flared, and Adam clenched his jaw. “Seriously? You’re still pissed? Come on.”

But Parker stood stock still, staring at the harbor as if he hadn’t even heard him. His heart skipped, his breathing shallow. Adam frowned. Boats bobbed in the swift breeze,
glug-glugging
against the bumpers. The sun was bright, yet Parker shivered in his thick, too-big hoodie over his cargo shorts.

“I knew it,” Parker muttered.

“Knew what?” Adam reached for him again, his hand hovering in the air. He peered around carefully, but the morning was all blue sky and sunshine on his skin. “What is it?”

Then Parker was running, his sneakers squeaking on the wood as he raced down the dock and made a left toward a huge sailboat. Adam followed, trying to spot the danger Parker was apparently running straight toward.

The large boat was docked bow first, and Parker skidded to the end of the jetty, turning to stare at the stern. His lips parted, he stared in apparent horror before gagging. Folding in half, he fell to his knees and retched over the side of the dock. Adam dropped down beside him, his heart thumping so loudly in his own ears it was hard to hear anything else.

“What is it?” He wanted to rub Parker’s back, but was afraid to make it worse. He looked at the huge boat, which seemed to be empty. “What—” He registered the name with a sinking sensation of dread.

The Good Life

Fury—hot and dark, sticky and thick—spread through him. “It’s their boat?”

Parker muttered hoarsely, “See? I knew it. We can’t trust anyone. They’re here.”

Adam ran his hand over Parker’s hair. “It’s okay. I won’t let them hurt you again.”

Parker trembled, but his eyes shone angrily. “
I
won’t let them hurt me this time. I’m ready for them.”

A new voice said, “Hey, what are you—”

They both shot to their feet as a woman appeared on the boat’s deck holding a box of Pop Tarts. Her reddish hair was twisted into a braid, and she wore shorts over a blue bathing suit. Eyes going wide, she stared at Parker. “Oh.” Parker jerked beside Adam, and the woman stumbled back. “Wait!”

Somehow Parker was pointing a gun at her, and Adam stared at it, utterly baffled. “Where…? Parker, no. Put that down.”

“No way. I couldn’t get to my gun last time. Not going to happen again.” He clutched the pistol with both hands, his finger quivering over the trigger. “Where’s Shorty, huh?”

“What?” She shook her head. “Who, Mick? That no-dick asshole’s dead.” The woman glanced at Adam. “Look, it wasn’t my fault, what happened. I’m sorry things got a little messy.”

“Liar,” Parker gritted out. “You laughed. You said you guys could have fun with me. With—with my mouth,” he spat. “You
laughed
.”

The simmering rage boiled up, and Adam realized the growl filling the air had come from his own throat. The woman backed up another step, clutching the box of Pop Tarts. Adam could jump onto the deck and eviscerate her in a heartbeat, and the urge had him shaking, hair spreading over his body, gold rage narrowing his vision, his claws and fangs growing sharp, tingling.

She trembled. “I’m sorry, okay? I had to go along with Mick or I’d have been the one he hit. I didn’t want to. I’m sorry you got hurt, kid. But shit, it could have been worse. You got off light compared to others. That’s why I shoved that asshole overboard and left him out there.”

“You murdered him?” Adam wasn’t sure whether to be glad or sorry he didn’t have the chance to do it himself.

The woman puffed up. “He was a bad person! Who are you to judge me? He’d already killed the others over a case of goddamned Coors Light. He was a crazy fucker. I didn’t want anything to do with him.”

Parker shook his head, his voice wavering but hands steady now, leveling the gun at the woman. “Why should I believe you? You were having fun. You didn’t help me.”

“I had my own problems. I needed to keep Mick happy so I could stay alive.” Her hard gaze slid to Adam. “You’re going to let him shoot me in cold blood? Huh?”

Adam had to work to form words that weren’t just a growl. “Maybe I’ll kill you myself.”

She lifted her chin. “Boss ladies won’t like that. Ain’t supposed to kill here. Have to follow the rules.” Her bravado faltered. “And I have! I haven’t given anyone trouble. I like it here. Ask anyone. I’ve done everything I’m supposed to. This is a good place. Don’t mess it up!”

“Why should I believe you?” Parker asked, his throat working and his voice strained.

She held up the Pop Tarts. “I came to get these for the new girl. Lilly? I thought she’d like them. Sweet kid.”

“You stay the fuck away from her.” Parker’s face was frighteningly red, his eyes wild. “All of you stay away from her. From us!”

“I know what you’re thinking, okay? That this place is bullshit? I thought so too. Mick was planning on taking over.” She smiled then, bitter and sharp. “I almost wish he’d gotten the chance to try. Would have loved to see the look on his dumb face when he came up against a bunch of werewolves.”

“You’re sure he’s dead?” Adam asked. Vibrating, he flexed his claws, his fangs aching, fur bristling with adrenaline.

“Not a doubt. I waited. Watched with binoculars. Drunk fuck didn’t tread water for long. It was a little disappointing the sharks were MIA.” She shrugged defensively. “Maybe I should be sorry, but after a few months with that asshole, I know we’re all better off.”

Adam couldn’t argue. Parker apparently couldn’t either, and his breathing had steadied somewhat, the panicked mania seeming to loosen its grip as he asked, “Why did you come here? Why didn’t you turn back?”

“Back to what? You’ve been there. You’ve seen it.” Eyes glistening, she blinked rapidly. “It’s gone. I figured what the hell. If Salvation Island was a crock of shit, then that would be that. And maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, not having to live in this fucked-up world. But when I showed up, they welcomed me.” She motioned toward land. “Gave me a cabin of my own. A job. I do shifts milking the cows.” Her laughter was thin and tinged with hysteria. “Me, milking fuckin’ cows! My momma wouldn’t believe her eyes.” Tears hung on her lashes.

To Adam, she said, “Look, your kind has been good to me. It’s been a real long time since anyone was. I just want to get along with everyone and…and live.” Her voice caught. “I want to
live
. Please.”

Although her heart thumped, Adam thought it was with fear, not falsehood. Turning to Parker, he kept his tone low. “Do you trust me?”

Parker’s gaze slid over to him, and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “Yes.”

“Then give me the gun. If you shoot her, I think you’ll really regret it.” He could take the gun, but didn’t want to do that to Parker. The choice had to be his.

Parker still held the pistol steady, but his heart was anything but. “I’ve shot people. Killed them. Creepers, but they’re still
people.
I don’t like to think of them that way. Because I kill them. I’m already a killer.”

“To survive, we do what we have to.” Adam glanced at the woman, who stood frozen, her heart rabbiting, terror sweat-slick on her skin. Inhaling deeply, he reined in the wolf, his fangs and claws retracting, the gold filter on the world fading back to brilliant blue in the morning sun.

Parker whispered, “I think of them as monsters, but they were just like us. They could be us.” He blinked at Adam. “Well, not you. But me.”

“I won’t let that happen.” He had to reach out then, had to touch. He gently grasped Parker’s trembling shoulder, trying to infuse his conviction into Parker’s skin through the thin cotton of his T-shirt. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there that day on the boat when they came. But I’m here now. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

Parker’s outstretched arms wavered. “I know.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” the woman said quietly. “I don’t want to hurt anyone. We’ve all had to do terrible things to survive—we fight and kill and hurt. It’s true I did awful stuff when I was with Mick and the others. But I don’t want to do that anymore. I didn’t like who I was with them. That’s why I let him die out there. Life has to be more than that. It’s got to be better. I want to be better. I know that must sound like a load of horse shit, but I mean it. Don’t you want to be better than you are?”

A shaky little smile lifted Parker’s lips. “All the time.” To Adam, he whispered, “I want to be what you need. What you want.”

Adam said, “You
are
. Why can’t you believe that?”

“This place…” He blinked at the woman. “If it’s really safe…”

“If it’s really safe, we can build a life here. Have a community here. And it doesn’t mean I want you any less, or that you’re any less important to me. Let’s make this place our home together. A fresh start.”

Parker lowered his arms, the gun still in his right hand. The woman’s eyes flicked from the pistol to Parker, to Adam and back again in a loop, but she was thankfully staying silent.

“I’m afraid.” Parker’s voice was barely audible.

“Me too. So we’ll be afraid together.” Adam extended his hand.

The metal was warm and slick, and Adam drew back his arm and threw the gun as far as he could into the deep of the ocean.

T
he worn wood
dock creaked under his sneakers, water lapping against it and birds squawking in the distance. Parker stared at the spot where the gun had disappeared. There were footsteps approaching, and he turned, bracing. Adam stepped closer, keeping Parker partially behind him.

“Everything okay here?” Kenny asked as he neared
The Good Life
with an older, bearded man Parker didn’t recognize. Kenny was frowning at him, and Parker realized he was panting and shaking. Before he could come up with some kind of excuse, the woman said, “Everything’s fine.” Parker jolted in surprise. She added, “It was my fault. Not theirs.”

“Are you sure, Bethany?” the bearded man asked. “I could have sworn I saw a gun, and heard some threats being made.”

Adam said, “There’s some prior history here. Parker had a run-in with…Bethany and her friends.”

The man asked, “Where’s the gun?”

“I threw it away.” Adam jerked his chin toward the water. “Parker was taken by surprise. He wasn’t thinking clearly.”

“It’s on me, not the kid,” Bethany insisted.

The man eyed Parker closely. “And you’re thinking clearly now?”

Parker nodded. He hoped it was the truth.

“And don’t have any other weapons?”

“I don’t.” That was definitely the truth, at least.

Bethany said, “Gotta get these Pop Tarts over to the mess hall.” With a little hop, she landed up on the dock. “See you around,” she added to Parker and Adam before hurrying away, her flip-flops slapping. Kenny trailed after her, shooting glances back over his shoulder as he went.

“I don’t think we’ve met,” the bearded man said as he extended his hand. “Damian Bautista.” His hair was dark and shot through with gray, his skin tan, body trim and fit.

Forcing a smile that was likely little more than a grimace, Parker took his hand and introduced himself after Adam did. Damian’s palm was cool and his grip strong. Adam stood very still, his gaze locked on Damian.