the breaking waves. Getting into the river mouth was going to be worse than getting out.
THEN
ELLIE
People came running down to the boat launch as we limped in on the Abracadabra. Martin threw the bowline out to Zog as he waded into the water to meet us. Zog began to pull us into the shallows. His son grabbed the gunwale and helped guide us in until we bumped up onto the sand.
The young brunette from the standup paddleboard rental place came running over the lawn toward us, two men following behind her.
“Willow saw you in her scope,” Zog said as he and his son held the Abracadabra steady while I tried to climb out. “She said you guys looked like you were in trouble—are you good, mate?”
Martin was holding my sweatshirt over his neck. Blood covered his arm.
“God, you’re bleeding, Martin,” Rabz said as she hurriedly waded into the water, worry tight in her face. “Ellie, you’re all covered in blood. What in the hell happened out there?”
A woman covered her mouth as Martin removed the balled-up shirt from his throat and showed them all the monstrosity of a purple squid lure that dangled from the hooks in his neck. Someone swore.
“Do you need an ambulance?” yelled someone with a cell phone from the grassy bank.
“No ambulance. Please,” Martin said as I clambered over the side of the boat and fell with a splash onto my butt in the water. I scrambled up onto my feet and waded to shore. I started up the road, wet shoes squelching.
“Ellie?” said Willow, coming up behind me. “Are you okay?”
“It’s her bloody fault!” yelled Martin after me. “She did this! Bloody drunk!”
I began to run. Willow ran after me as I crossed the lawn in front of the SUP rental place, aiming for the shortcut river trail to our home. Blood boomed in my head. My whole body shook with a cocktail of rage and shame and horror. I stumbled, still feeling spacey, and I still couldn’t figure out how or why or what exactly had transpired out at the FAD.
“What happened?” Willow asked as she caught up behind me.
I put my head down and walked faster, tripping every now and then on raised bits of grass.
“Ellie—” She reached for my arm and turned me to face her. “What happened out there?”
“We shouldn’t have gone out. He did this. On purpose. He wanted to scare me. Damn him . . . he . . . he knows I’m afraid. Damn him!”
Willow’s gaze lowered over my shaking, wet body. I was smeared with blood. I had to look as drunk as I felt. I probably appeared to her like a loose cannon, a wild madwoman dangerous to my own husband and to myself. Someone you shouldn’t take out on a boat alone because she would cause trouble. They could all see it—that was the message they were getting. That was the message Martin was screaming about down at the launch—Ellie the lunatic. Ellie the psycho. Ellie with an addiction problem. They would all have seen the empty cooler bottles rolling around in the bottom of the boat. And one thing I was learning fast about Martin was that he had pride. Arrogant, alpha-male, chest-thumping pride. And God help anyone who undermined that and made him look foolish. He was the kind of man who blamed his tools or his employees—or his wife—when he got a hook in his neck because he had foul-hooked a fish and screwed up. As nice as he’d seemed back in the Cook Islands lagoon, he actually got off on making me scared.
I took in a deep and shuddering breath and said, “I . . . I’m sorry. I need to be alone right now.”
She eyed me in silence for a moment. Then quietly she said, “Why don’t you come and see me tomorrow, okay? Or whenever. Because you look like you could use someone to off-load on.” She glanced over her shoulder at the small crowd gathering around the Abracadabra at the boat launch, and I sensed her assessing the situation, computing. She turned to face me. “I’m trained, Ellie. I can help.” She paused. “At the least, I can help you get help.”
I stared into her clear eyes and wanted to cry. I wanted to fold myself into her and let her hug me. And just hold me. Like I’d wanted someone to hold me when my mom had died. I missed Dana. I missed my old friends and