would—”
“Like someone was stifling you?”
“Maybe, I don’t know.” I draw in a deep breath as the choking sensation eases.
It’s so strange, how these things hit hard and then fade away just as fast.
“No easy answers,” Flint says, “but maybe you just figured out how to help us find them.”
His long finger taps against the page, and I follow it with my eyes.
He points at the sketch with Ray, sneering down like he’s about to slap me across the face. “That shape in the corner looks like a door. And the way the cat’s snarling like a stuck raccoon, seems like you were forced into a room.”
“We were,” I say. “Below deck, I think, back on the yacht. Ray was upset. I wasn’t supposed to be there. He was yelling, screaming how stupid I am, how it was all my fault, and I was ruining everything like apparently I always do.” I shrug. “I don’t know. Maybe I was.”
“Like hell you were,” he growls, eyes flashing. “Ruining it for him and his asshole friends? Maybe. Considering their line of business, that’s nothing to be ashamed of. You’re smart enough to know, Val, don’t need to hear it from me.”
But I do.
I’m freaking reeling.
I can’t even believe I’m about to say the next thing that pops into my head.
“Should I try drawing more? It’s not exactly a sunny walk on the beach, but if I can just get over the pain, the shock, maybe I’ll remember something we can use?”
He shrugs. “Just like everything else, honey. Don’t force it, but when the urge to draw strikes, do it.” He sets the scratch pad down. “I promised Bryce we’d go swimming before supper. Want to join us? Still a sliver of light left. Bet it’ll help get that pretty head off shitty brothers screaming in your face.”
I almost say yes, before my mind questions if I should.
Should things be this normal?
It’s hard to imagine just letting go, but maybe he’s right.
I miss normalcy. Not having to second-guess every single thought. Being able to enjoy a cool, breezy afternoon on the beach without a panic attack.
“C’mon. Somebody needs to keep that cat in line while he’s floating around with Bryce,” he says, nudging me playfully with his elbow.
A smile breaks loose, finally, and I nod. “Sure. Let me grab my swimsuit.”
I hurry inside, change, and go back out, refusing to let my personal hell control every aspect of my life. For the next hour, I’ll take Flint’s advice.
Forget about everything else and just be.
They’re both bobbing in the water when I return. Savanny’s back on Bryce’s paddleboard, gently flicking his tail. I swear my cat might be part dolphin.
I slowly wade into the cool ocean, loving how the soft ripple winds around my legs. Then, conjuring up my courage, I dive below and swim out to where they are, moving with the soft current.
“He’s a natural, isn’t he? I always thought cats hated water,” Flint says, smiling as he watches Bryce stroking a hand down the cat’s back.
“Not my Savanny,” I say. Right now, I’m not going to worry about whether I should know that about my cat or not.
“Some cats love the water. Don’t you guys watch YouTube?” Bryce asks, holding onto the board with his hands, kicking his feet to move past us. “There’s even cat swim races on there. Pretty crazy. Most don’t like it because it makes them feel sluggish. I guess their coats have this special oil that doesn’t let them dry off too fast.”
“He Googled that,” Flint says, leaning close to me.
“Oh, yes,” I say, laughing. “He definitely Googled that.”
We both kick our feet up and swim, catching up with Bryce, and then all three of us swim farther out.
Savanny just needs a little skipper hat to look like he’s the captain of his own little boat. We laugh at how he sprawls out on Bryce’s paddleboard, sun bathing, and meows at us when we make waves that cause the board to rock.
“Oh, stop it, you’re fine!” I tell him, flicking a few water drops his way. But Bryce swings the board around just as I splash water, and it hits him instead of Savanny.
“Hey, no fair!” He splashes water back at me, laughing.
I dodge just in time. It hits Flint instead.
Whoops.
A full blown splash war breaks out, quickly turning into a game of tag with frantic laughter. I feel like I’m hit from all sides, but I give as good as I get.
The sun drifts lower, slipping