Promise Cove (A Pelican Pointe Novel Book 1) (3 page)

A
lum
p
o
f
pani
c
caugh
t
i
n
N
ic
k
’
s
throa
t
.
H
e
cl
o
s
e
d
h
i
s
e
y
e
s
un
t
i
l
i
t
pa
s
s
ed
,
un
t
i
l
h
e
g
o
t
th
e
sha
k
i
ng
unde
r
control.
H
e
f
ina
ll
y
g
o
t
u
p
o
n
uns
t
ead
y
le
g
s
,
force
d
h
i
s
fee
t
to
make
th
e
w
a
l
k
a
c
r
os
s
th
e
sh
a
b
b
y
ca
r
pe
t
in
to
th
e
bathroom
,
where
h
e
t
u
r
ne
d
o
n
th
e
ligh
t
,
an
d
the
n
th
e
fauce
t
.
A
s
th
e
w
a
t
e
r
ra
n
,
h
e
s
t
oo
d
i
n
th
e
b
r
igh
t
sp
o
tligh
t
loo
k
i
ng
in
to
th
e
old
chipped
,
bathroo
m
mi
r
ro
r
,
s
t
a
r
i
ng
a
t
h
i
s
refl
e
c
t
io
n
.
S
trea
k
y
re
d
lin
e
s
r
imme
d
h
i
s
l
ak
e
-blu
e
e
y
e
s
.
I
t
looke
d
a
s
though
h
e
’
d
bee
n
o
n
a
d
r
in
k
i
ng
b
i
n
g
e
fo
r
a
coupl
e
o
f
months
.
H
e
had
n
’
t
.
H
e
r
a
n
a
s
t
il
l
sha
k
y
han
d
throug
h
h
i
s
coal-b
l
ack
hai
r
.
L
oc
k
s
tha
t
hu
ng
alm
o
s
t
to
h
i
s
shoulde
r
s
ha
d
rep
l
aced
th
e
m
ili
t
a
r
y
c
u
t
h
e
’
d
wo
r
n
m
o
s
t
o
f
h
i
s
lif
e.
T
h
e
o
the
r
hand
refle
x
ivel
y
r
a
n
a
c
r
os
s
th
e
puf
f
y
,
re
d
s
ca
r
s
o
n
h
i
s
ch
e
s
t
and
t
o
r
s
o
.
A
st
r
a
n
ge
r
s
t
are
d
bac
k
a
t
hi
m
f
ro
m
th
e
mi
r
ro
r
.
H
e
migh
t
b
e
a
bl
e
to
concea
l
h
i
s
men
t
a
l
s
ca
r
s
f
ro
m
th
e
world,
migh
t
b
e
a
bl
e
to
de
n
y
h
e
ha
d
a
n
y
,
bu
t
ther
e
w
a
s
n
o
hidi
ng
th
e
ja
gged
,
ugl
y
mar
k
s
o
n
h
i
s
bod
y
.

H
e
sp
l
ashed
cold
w
at
er
on
h
i
s
face,
and
de
c
ided
he needed
t
o
s
t
op
bei
n
g
such
a
co
w
ard.
T
h
ere
were
only
s
o ma
n
y
tim
e
s
a
pe
r
s
on
could
put
off
s
omethi
n
g
before
they
ha
d
t
o
ma
n
u
p
an
d
tak
e
tha
t
s
t
e
p
,
ge
t
i
t
don
e
.

T
a
k
i
n
g
an
o
ther
lo
n
g
look
in
the
mi
r
ror
at
the
man
he barely
reco
g
nized,
he
k
new
it
w
as
u
s
el
e
s
s
t
o
t
r
y
t
o
get
back
t
o
slee
p
.

H
e
reached
over
t
o
s
t
a
r
t
the
w
at
er
in
the
showe
r
.

A
t
fiv
e
-thi
r
t
y
,
dr
es
s
ed
in
jeans
and
an
an
c
ient
b
l
ack
T
-shi
r
t
,
N
ick
s
t
a
r
t
ed
pac
k
i
n
g
up
the
me
a
ger
belo
n
g
in
g
s
h
e
’
d
brough
t
w
it
h
hi
m
.
T
h
ro
w
i
n
g
t
o
o
thpas
t
e,
r
a
zo
r
,
and
t
o
i
let
r
i
e
s
in
t
o
h
i
s
s
ma
l
l
t
r
a
ve
l
duf
fel,
the
memo
r
y
of
what
h
i
s
life
u
s
ed
t
o
be
l
i
k
e
flickered
in
h
i
s
head
l
i
ke
a
v
ide
o
.
T
h
at
care
f
ree
life h
e
’
d
lived
before
w
ar
belo
n
ged
t
o
s
omeone
e
ls
e
.
T
h
ere
w
as no
reca
p
t
u
r
i
n
g
what
he
once
had
or
how
he
once
fel
t
.
H
ad
n
’t he
spent
the
l
ast
y
ear
t
r
y
in
g?