Leather and Sand (Riding the Line Series) (3 page)

The morning dawned bright and early as Rhee went through the motions of her daily routine. She had somehow adjusted to functioning on less sleep than even she had ever thought possible. Years of night terrors and insomnia had perhaps prepared her for her new role. She was tired, yes, but then again, she was always tired these days. It was a different kind of tired. This new fatigue was born of a primal instinct that compelled her to act with a fierce passion, rather than the kind of exhaustion that resulted from fear.

Smiling, Rhee reflected on her first experiences on the island, before things had become slightly more complicated. At first, she had spent every waking moment exploring the island, as she adjusted to her new name and her new identity. She shortened Sabrina because she just wasn’t used to using a full name. Luckily, “Rina” was so close to her former nickname that it wasn’t difficult to make the transition. A new life. A new identity. But, the same, ever-present mystery hung perpetually over her head, dampening her spirits like a tiny raincloud.

Where are you, Mickey?

Even though she had her own terrifying situation to deal with, Rhee focused on tracking her sister at first. She suspected Mickey was somewhere on the island, given the rich tan she had been sporting in one of the encrypted photos Wince uncovered. When she viewed that photo, Rhee had suddenly recalled a favorite childhood memory she and Mickey shared. They had been watching
Dirty Dancing,
giggling over Patrick Swayze’s hard body. Mickey had been transfixed by the older sister-what was her name?—and her bizarre rendition of a Hawaiian song and hula dance. Since that day, Mickey had harbored a secret desire to go there, to this very island. Rhee had forgotten all about Mickey’s childhood dream-until she saw the photo and noticed the tan lines on her sister’s back and the sun-kissed streaks in her hair.

She had to get to the island to follow up on her hunch. But, that wasn’t the only reason she ran. Charisma, an ex-porn star friend of Dax’s, was an unlikely but perfect ally in Rhee’s quest to get the hell away from the man who obliviously held her heart in his hands. The sexual tension was bad enough, but to find herself pregnant after her one and only sexual experience was just unfathomable. Dax was practically married. He didn’t want his relationship with his doctor girlfriend compromised, and Rhee was certain he didn’t want to be saddled with child support. Rhee had decided a long time ago that she would never be any man’s burden. With Charisma’s help she disappeared, taking her unborn baby and her pride on a personal mission to find her wayward sister.

Even though she still had no solid clues regarding Mickey’s current whereabouts, her search for her sister led Rhee to her greatest allies. One of her best leads was a guy who went by the name of “Turtle.” Rhee had literally stumbled across his path her first week on the island.
I have to stop making a habit of this,
she groaned inwardly, as groceries flew everywhere. Yet, even though she rued her propensity to cross paths with dangerous men, bumping into Turtle outside the local market had been one of Rhee’s more fortuitous meetings since she arrived here.

The large, intimidating man ran a local street gang but he, and they, had never been anything but courteous and helpful to Rhee. Besides being a total pussycat, in sharp contrast to his fearsome tattoos and large stature, Turtle was well connected and he knew just about everything and everyone that passed through this island—and the other ones. Even though Manali, whom Rhee affectionately regarded as her “landlady parent,” warned her away, Rhee trusted the big man. True to her stubborn nature, she had attended several of the parties at the gang’s beachside clubhouse to try to pick up her sister’s trail.

Turtle’s boys confirmed that a girl matching Mickey’s description had been seen on the island a mere six months before Rhee arrived. Turtle didn’t have any more information. From that, Rhee was certain her kid sister was alive, but inaccessible—possibly due to the confines of the witness protection program. But, why? What had Mickey ever done that would warrant such deception? According to her new street gang friends, the only thing to do now was to wait until new information surfaced.

So close and yet so far...

Chasing Mickey had become so ingrained into Rhee’s psyche that she had forgotten what it was like to just—-be. Every fiber in Rhee’s being ached to follow the trail of crumbs Turtle’s crew had picked up. Well, almost every fiber.

The salt sea air and the warm climate swirled with the slower pace of the island, lulling her into a rather novel sense of wanting to settle down. It was strange to just stay still after so many months of running and chasing, but her body and her mind needed the rest—so very badly. It felt so wrong to stop, to take time for herself, but Rhee knew that she was going to be forcibly sidelined soon anyway. At least for a little while. So, although she was desperate to find her sister, Rhee found herself giving in to the strong urges compelling her to fix up the little cottage she had rented from Max’s sister, Manali.

Rhee smiled fondly at the memory of meeting Max moments after she set foot on the island. She had been so anxious, so unsure of herself. Max had been a godsend; he took a chance on her and shuttled her directly to his sister’s place. He called it an “
hale
.” Rhee was not sure what to expect but ending up in the little beach cottage was a dream come true. The best part was that she wasn’t alone—Manali lived just across the yard.

Manali was more than happy to have Rhee living in the guesthouse. When her condition became more obvious, her landlady-parent was overjoyed at the prospect of having a child around, to Rhee’s great relief. Max said Manali had always wanted children, but the fates wouldn’t allow it. The comment had seemed odd at first, but Rhee came to understand that the two elder islanders harbored a very old and deep kind of spirituality.

Being unused to motherly attention, it was hard to accept the woman’s initial overtures. Rhee didn’t want to impose. Following her realization that Manali was just as grateful for her company as Rhee was for Manali’s; the two women had grown close. They shared meals and walks and functioned like a real family, something that Rhee was becoming more and more dependent on, even though her reliance made her nervous.

Everything I love goes away….

While she hadn’t yet found Mickey, Rhee had found something else—something she had never anticipated…she found a part of herself that had been lying dormant beneath the emotional walls she had put up. A part that laughed, loved, and enjoyed the present moment, rather than chasing something that was always just out of reach. Rhee was thriving in a way she had never thought possible. It was hard to believe that nearly three whole years had passed since she arrived on the island. So much had changed.

With her deep tan, sun-streaked hair, and natural inner glow, Rhee was now practically considered a local. She managed to get a job helping out at a local photo studio to further her artistic interests. Her boss was kind of smarmy, but he paid a decent wage. Manali refused to accept proper rent from Rhee, so she pitched in by buying groceries and running errands for her landlady-parent. After a few months, Rhee used her meager savings to buy a laptop and a decent camera.

Before now, Rhee had never been able to follow her passion. In fact, she had never even known what it was, because her interests were always overshadowed by the traumas of her life. She learned an important lesson here on the island—recognizing the value in doing what made her feel grounded. As it turned out, self-expression became her outlet. Rhee discovered that she had a unique talent for design that involved inserting fanciful elements into digital photographs of ordinary things, to make mundane objects appear surreal. Living a normal life was inspiring, after all she had been through, and to her, mundane
was
magical.

Rhee found more joy volunteering with local youth, giving the less fortunate kids a way to express themselves through art. It would have helped her immensely to have an outlet like that when she was a teen. Somehow, her simple desire to give back to the community turned into an actual charity, and the small-scale auctions she helped with a year ago were now large, island-wide fundraisers held at luxury resort hotels. Big donors came. Someday, Rhee hoped to set up a studio where kids could experience many facets of expression. Computers were expensive, but necessary, so even though she didn’t particularly enjoy being the center of attention, Rhee was getting ready to host a large event next week to raise money.

It was getting late and a yawn interrupted her reverie. Rhee looked out at the starry sky, suddenly motivated to recite a silent prayer of gratitude for all the support that had come her way over the last few years. The perpetual flicker of Manali’s light in the kitchen window signaled her presence. The older woman had the constitution of an ox, and she liked to keep busy. She was certainly needed often.

Manali never turned down an opportunity to look after Sirena. The gorgeous little girl with the striking blue eyes and honey-colored hair charmed everyone who crossed her path, and Manali was no different. She was wrapped around Sirena’s little finger and so was Max. They would do anything for the child.

Yes, Sirena was surrounded by people who loved her, and that was all that mattered, Rhee convinced herself. She shook herself mentally, pushing painful memories of her daughter’s father from her mind. She felt so ashamed and so very alone during her first few weeks on the island. Luckily, she didn’t start showing until her sixth month, but Manali seemed to have a special ability to figure things out on her own. Rhee didn’t even realize the woman knew her secret until she started bringing over hand-knitted booties and special tea. Everyone seemed to know not to ask about the baby’s father…thankfully.

It had been a long, hard road to walk, with an unclear destination. Being pregnant and alone those first few months had nearly broken Rhee until she learned to compartmentalize her emotions and ignore her memories. Her pregnancy progressed just fine until her third trimester. If it hadn’t been for Max and Manali, Rhee wasn’t sure she would be around to bask in the glow that was Sirena. She shuddered, recalling the pain, the blood, and the overwhelming fear that she was losing the only thing that really mattered to her anymore. But she survived, yet again, and she rebuilt her life around her new identity: Sabrina Jeffries, single mother, and up-and-coming artist.

Her struggle had brought a strange sort of satisfaction as she shouldered every new challenge, feeling her sense of self-efficacy rise until she was strong enough to let her guard down more and more. Drawn into the baby’s room, Rhee gazed down at the sweet little face, so trusting and angelic in her slumber. That face, as chubby and round as it was, was still a familiar face.

His face.
God, her little girl looked and acted so much like her father that to look at Sirena was a daily reminder of Rhee’s heartache. She blinked back a tear as she crawled into her bed and pulled the covers over herself. Even if she wanted to, there was no going back.

Chapter Four

Dax despised airplanes. He hated being confined to his seat and he hated the food, but most of all, he hated the feeling of being completely out of control. When he was on his bike, even when he was doing ninety miles an hour, Dax was in control. He was one with his machine, mastering it as he whipped through the elements. But a plane—a plane made him feel unsettled in a very specific way. Dax Jamison did not like allowing someone else in the driver’s seat. Stiffening almost imperceptibly as they took off, Dax clenched his fists. When they were in the air, he pressed the call button for the stewardess, and checked his watch. It was 9:00 a.m.

Never too early for that first shot of brandy.

Several hours later, and an inappropriate number of stiff cocktails burning a hole in his gut, Dax was standing in the entryway of a large suite that boasted an epic ocean view. Even though he was slightly intoxicated, it was impossible to ignore the opulence of their accommodations. Hawk must have called in quite a few favors to get them set up here.

“Damn! Nice place.” Wince looked around appreciatively.

Dax didn’t want to admit it, but he was just as impressed. He wanted to dislike the island, and the mission—wanted the whole scene to suck so much that he was forced back home—to his comfort zone of jaded depression. The step-down living room, a fully stocked bar, and a flat screen television swayed him. Looking through expanse of glass at a panoramic view of the sand and sea, Dax had to wonder why anyone here would require a television. The island scenery was vastly different than the concrete jungle they had come from. The suite’s living room branched off into two separate bedrooms. He tossed his bags on the floor of the larger one and stretched out on the bed.

Tonight, there was some high roller function at the hotel. The two grunts would want to go out on the town, but Wince and Dax had some Intel that would require them to remain at the resort to scope out the fundraiser in the main ballroom. Hawk’s connection, a shipping company owner, was reputed to make large donations at these kinds of events, probably to shelter some of his cash and to stay under the radar by masquerading as a charitable businessman.

Hawk had his talons into a lot of things. It was one of his strengths. The man never passed up on an opportunity. Back in the day, Hawk helped one of his war buddies finance a shaky fishing boat venture. Decades later, the single boat and skeleton crew had grown into a rather formidable, international shipping operation. Hawk’s buddy now owned a fleet of container ships that routed through Russia, China, and Japan. The island port was the perfect place to stop and re-fuel before heading to the mainland.

With finances looking grim, Hawk had apparently decided to call in his long-owed favor. Hawk’s buddy had agreed to the deal some weeks ago. Things never went smoothly, though. Not in the world of underground arms smuggling. Just a few days before their scheduled trip to the island, Hawk received word that the connection had contracted some acute illness and was bedridden. His son had taken over the day-to-day operations. When Hawk pressed for more information, there had been no response. So, things were up in the air and Dax was on the hook to secure the deal.