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Authors: Cole Gibsen

BOOK: Breathless
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I opened my eyes and watched the reflection of the stars dance above us. It was like we were no longer in the ocean but flying above it. Into the sky. Soaring. Leaving everything behind. Proving that there was a place for us, after al . If we couldn’t be together on land and we couldn’t be together in the ocean, we would always have the night sky.

Bastin pul ed away and our gliding ceased. It was like I’d fal en from the moon back into the ocean. Without his arms around me, I was suddenly aware how cold the water was.

He said nothing, just stared at me, blinking his too-rapid blink. If I hadn’t already been in the water, the weight of his eyes would have left me holding my breath.

“I wish I could keep you,” he said.

I wanted to answer. I wanted so much more.

He shook his head, sadly. “It’s time to take you home.”

Before I could protest, his lips were on mine. Breathing into me. Drinking me down, like he was trying to suck a piece of my soul inside him. If I could I gladly would have given him a piece. Bastin belonged to the sea. I belonged to the land. But in a way, we belonged to each other. That had to count for something.

We broke the surface, both of us gasping, and neither from lack of oxygen.

“Every night,” he said, brushing a strand of wet hair from my eyes. “Every night I say it wil be the last that I visit you. And then I find myself at your door the very next day.”

The impact of his words ensnared my heart like a thousand fish hooks, each one pul ed from a different direction. “What do you mean? Is this the last night we’l be together?”

“I hope so.”

When the hooks could pul no harder, they simply ripped through, leaving my heart tattered ribbons of meat.

Bastin continued, “Every time I visit you, I find I lose more of myself.”

I didn’t know how far we’d swum or where we were. Definitely beyond the bayou as the shore stretched wide a good hundred yards from where we bobbed. I doubted I could swim the distance on my own but stil , I pushed myself away from him. “Why, Bastin?” I choked back a sob. “Why did you do this to me? If you knew you were going to leave, why did you keep coming back? Did you
want
to hurt me?”

But hurt wasn’t the right word. Because I’d let him in, because I’d opened up, I was bleeding from the inside out.

He shook his head and pul ed me to him. I wanted to fight, to get away, but lacked the strength. “I didn’t know, Edith. If I knew what this would feel like, how much I would need you, I would have stayed away. I’m addicted to you. No good can come from that.” His voice softened. “Every time I leave you, I spend the entire day trying to figure out how we can survive together. There is no way.”

“That’s just great, Bastin. I’m glad you have it al figured out.” As much as I hated to, I clung to him. Otherwise the weight of my grief would have pul ed me under. “Maybe you can tel me something, then?”

He blinked at me.

“If there’s no way for us to survive together, just tel me, how are we supposed to survive apart?”

His silence was my answer.

***

I ran the entire way home. My eyes burned with tears that refused to fal , blurring my vision, which made it even harder to stick to the animal trail cloaked in darkness. Sharp underbrush clawed at my flesh as I tumbled through. But the pain barely registered. Bastin’s words had numbed me from the inside out.

A tree root snagged my foot and sent me toppling to the ground. Without a word, I got up, wiped my dirt-streaked hands on my shorts, and continued on. When I final y burst through the trees into my backyard, the sun was beginning to drape banners of pink across the sky. Panting, I reached out toward my bedroom door.

And froze.

Tiny hairs rose along the back of my neck. Something was wrong. I surveyed the yard—nothing looked out of place. The window to my parents’

room remained dark. Al was quiet.

Swal owing past the copper taste of fear that rose in my throat, I grasped the door handle. As I did, it moved under my fingers. With a yelp, I jumped back. My legs tangled, sending me fal ing against the wooden deck.

Sir stepped out of my room and stood over me. Wearing only a pair of running shorts and a white tank-top, I could see that every muscle in his body was taut. It was as if God had run out of skin halfway through making him, stretching what he had to make it fit.

Sir didn’t move. And like any smal rodent under a viper’s stare, neither did I. My mind raced to come up with an acceptable excuse to explain my absence—but I couldn’t think under the weight of his gaze. I dared not breathe, dared not move, for fear that Sir would snap out of his trance and lash out. Not that it would help. The end was coming—I was only delaying it.

He cleared his throat, the break in silence causing me to flinch. I tried to think of the al igator I’d held my second night with Bastin. But instead of conjuring up the confidence I’d felt when I conquered my fear, al I could think about was how I’d never see Bastin again, which broke my heart al over.

When Sir spoke, his words were soft and low. A very bad sign. “Where have you been?”

I opened my mouth and closed it. Again, a thousand excuses ran through my mind. None of them ended with swimming in the ocean with a merman. Final y, I managed to squeak, “Outside.”

“Do not play games with me!” Sir roared.

I shrank back against the wood, ignoring the needle-like splinters of the deck as they dug into my skin.

“I can’t believe you’d leave your bed in the middle of the night and then have the nerve to be smart about it.”

Oh, he couldn’t be more wrong. There was nothing smart about me at this moment. “I haven’t been gone al night.” I hated the way the trembling of my voice betrayed my fear.

Sir crossed his arms. “Is that so?”

“Y-yes.” Feeling a little better that Sir’s hands were no longer in grabbing range, I climbed to my feet. As I did, a plan began to formulate in my head. “I was having trouble sleeping—you know, the pain in my shoulder and al .”

Sir didn’t look the least bit concerned over my sleeping habits.

“And I remembered your advice about exercise and how it promotes healthy sleep cycles,” I said, quoting directly from a Sir lecture. “I decided to go for a run. I thought a little exercise and fresh air would help.” This was a dangerous gamble. My only hope was that Sir hadn’t noticed I was missing until recently. If he’d known I was gone half the night, I was sunk for sure.

He blinked for the first time and dropped his arms to his side. “You went for a run?”

My heart did a back-flip. Somehow, I’d said the right thing. “Yes, Sir.”

He stepped away from the door so that only inches separated us. Despite my best attempt not to, I flinched, just like I always did. And it was funny, because Sir never hit me. He didn’t have to. His presence was enough.

“If you’re so interested in exercise, then by no means let me discourage you. I find physical fitness is lacking in the youth of today. Too many lard-asses playing their video games.”

He walked a slow circle around me. I struggled to keep my eyes forward and my body straight despite every instinct screaming at me to run.

“So I have an idea. Since you’re suddenly so interested in exercise, I propose I lead your morning PT. Every day. Effective immediately.”

Physical training with the sergeant? My stomach fel into my knees. This was official y the worst morning of my life. First I’d lost Bastin and now this. It looked like karma had final y found a way to punish me for being happy.

He smiled and stroked his morning stubble. “Yes, I’d say that’s a great idea. Don’t you agree, Ed? Besides, you’l learn a lot more from me than you ever could from some marshmal ow-fluff gym teacher.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Very good. I can’t think of a better way for a father and daughter to spend time together, can you?”

There was that word again.
Father.
Waves of nausea rol ed inside of me. “No, sir.”

“Good.” After looking me up and down he nodded his head. “You’re dismissed.”

I could only blink. Surely it wasn’t going to be that easy? Before he could change his mind, I stepped around him and darted for my bedroom. I was halfway through the door before he stopped me.

“Ed.”

My heart wedged itself in my throat. Choking me.

So here it was, the part I’d been waiting for.

I turned. “Sir?”

“If I find out you lied to me, there wil be consequences.”

I tightened my grip on the door handle. Unable to breathe, knowing if I could just shut the door between us the pressure building inside me would ease. “Yes, sir.”

His eyes narrowed. “Good. And to reinforce that fact, I’ve taken the liberty of packing a bag for you. You’l find it on your bed. It’l save us some time in case I find out that you haven’t been straight with me.”

I glanced at my bed where a suitcase lay opened. Even with my room’s dim lighting, I could see it was stuffed to the brim with clothes taken from my closet and folded too neatly to be Mom’s handiwork.

“Don’t bother unpacking,” Sir said. “You never know when we might need it.”

“Yes, sir.” Tears pricked my eyes, but I wouldn’t let them fal . If I could keep it together, I’d be okay. Fal apart and it’d be that much worse. Like a spreading infection, al Sir needed was an open wound. I wouldn’t give him one.

He waited for several heartbeats, as if anticipating the tears that he could use against me. When they didn’t come he pushed past me, through my room, and into the house beyond.

When I was sure he was out of earshot, I shut my bedroom door and col apsed on my bed. But the numbness that always fol owed Sir’s departures didn’t come. Bastin’s abrupt goodbye was stil fresh on my mind and seared on my heart. Stil , a smal part of me was relieved. I knew Bastin was right. The longer we continued on, the more pain we would cause each other. Even now I’d felt as if a hole had been carved from my heart, a dul ache throbbing inside my chest with each beat.

I hoped for a miracle, despite knowing it wasn’t possible for girl and a merman to exist together. Bastin knew it, too. Hel , even the suitcase next to me knew the direction that my life was pointed, and it didn’t include the ocean.

Angry, I slapped the side of the suitcase. How much of a reminder did Sir think I needed? My whole life was proof of his control.

I hated him.

The revelation startled me, and I sat up. It was the first time I realized that my relationship with Sir had no chance of getting better. What little hope I’d had of Sir’s acceptance was gone. He would never love me. We would never come to some tearful understanding that happens in the movies.

There was no happily-ever-after. This was it. The end. The actors had taken their bows.

Now we were just waiting for the credits to rol .

Chapter 19

Whoever penned the word “heartache” sure knew what they were talking about. I didn’t know why I al owed myself to get so wrapped up with Bastin over the last week, but knowing that I would never see him hurt unlike anything I could have imagined. It was as if my ribcage had col apsed inside my chest, the jagged bones grinding into my heart like a nutcracker grinding into the meat of a pecan.

Luckily, between classes, Morgan was more than eager to distract me from both my thoughts of heartbreak and Sir’s threats with talk about her parents’ dinner party—something I had dreaded but now looked forward to. A night away from Sir, my bedroom, and al reminders of Bastin, was exactly what I needed.

That evening, Sir turned into Morgan’s subdivision at five before seven. He hadn’t spoken the entire trip. Mom, however, prattled on about her Apple Brown Betty and whether she should have baked a Bundt cake instead.

“Mom,” I assured her from the backseat, “your Apple Brown Betty is the best in the world. They’l love it.”

She turned to smile at me. “Edith, you’re such a sweet girl. Thank you.” She glanced in Sir’s direction, as if waiting for him to comment, too. He didn’t. I had to give her credit, though, for thinking he would. She hadn’t given up. I wasn’t sure what to make of that. Hope was one thing, delusion another.

At the end of the road, Sir pul ed into the circle drive of a house unlike any I’d seen outside of a reality show. In fact, cal ing it a house was like cal ing the ocean a pond. Despite the modern windows and pil ars supporting the two-story archway over the front door, because of its size and textured stonework, I half-expected Rapunzel to lean out a window and drop down her hair.

“Wow,” Mom whispered. “It looks like a movie star’s house.”

I could only nod.

Sir shifted in his seat, drawing my attention. His knuckles paled as he tightened his grip on the steering wheel. I wondered what had him so upset. I thought he’d be jumping for joy at the chance to meet with the Base Commander.

“Have you ever seen anything like this?” Mom asked him.

His jaw flexed but he didn’t answer. He was too caught up in staring at something. Fol owing his gaze, I saw what had him so bent out of shape.

Morgan skipped down the front walk wearing what could only be described as a black leather and pink tul e tutu, complete with matching leather corset, pink fishnet stockings, and a pair of Doc Martens that laced just below her knees.

“Oh, my.” Mom held up a hand to smother her smile. “Isn’t she . . . colorful?”

I bit my lip to keep from giggling. Morgan was exactly the kind of person Sir loathed, and since she was the Base Commander’s daughter, he would have to play nice. Maybe Morgan was right after al —we’d only just arrived and already I was having fun.

Morgan pul ed me into a hug when I got out of the 4x4, whispering in my ear, “What’s with the getup?”

I assumed she was talking about my clothes, a plain khaki skirt and pink cardigan. Unlike Morgan, I had to pass inspection before I left the house. I wondered what it would be like to have parents who didn’t care what I wore. Who actual y cared what I thought and listened to what I had to say. It must be like having wings.

When she released me, I rol ed my eyes in Sir’s direction to let her know the reason for my clothes.

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