Dancing Tides (145 page)

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Authors: Vickie McKeehan

Tags: #Romance, #Suspense

BOOK: Dancing Tides
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“D
o
y
ou
r
e
a
l
l
y
wa
nt to di
e
, Co
r
d
?

She
su
c
k
e
d in a
b
rea
th
w
a
iting
f
or
his
a
ns
wer
,
a
fra
id
w
h
a
t it mi
g
ht b
e
.

“N
o.”

She
bl
e
w
out a
b
r
e
a
th.

Ar
e
y
ou
a
bsolut
e
l
y
c
er
t
a
i
n of that
?
D
o
e
s this sh
r
ink know
y
ou t
r
i
e
d t
w
i
ce
?


She
kno
w
s.
T
h
a
t

s
w
h
y
I
a
g
r
e
e
d to t
r
y
the
g
odd
a
mn
e
d pills.
Z
olo
f
t,
Ke
e
g
a
n.
A
s of
this
af
t
er
noon,
I

m t
a
ki
n
g
Z
olo
f
t.
T
h
a
t

s how
s
er
ious
I
a
m
a
bout g
e
tting
b
e
tt
er
.
Y
ou think
I
w
a
nt to
fee
l d
e
p
re
ss
e
d?
Y
ou thi
n
k
I
wa
nt to
f
e
e
l like
shit
a
bout thin
g
s?
I
h
a
t
e
f
e
e
ling
di
f
f
ere
nt th
a
n t
h
e old m
e
.”

T
o his su
r
p
r
ise
she
st
e
p
p
e
d
c
los
er
, put h
e
r
ar
ms
ar
ound his
wa
ist, l
a
id h
e
r
h
ea
d on his
c
h
e
st.

I
don

t
wa
nt
y
ou to di
e
, Co
r
d.
Y
ou
’r
e
kind.
D
o
y
ou know
h
o
w
r
a
r
e
i
t is to
f
ind som
e
one
w
ho is
a
s mu
c
h
a
n
a
nim
a
l lov
e
r
a
s
w
e
both
a
re
?
Y
ou
’r
e
so
f
un
n
y
a
nd
w
a
r
m
a
nd thou
g
ht
f
ul.
Y
ou h
a
ve
so mu
c
h to o
f
f
e
r
li
f
e
.
D
on

t do th
a
t
a
g
a
in, Cord.
D
o
y
ou h
e
a
r
m
e
?
P
r
omise
m
e
, ok
a
y
?
I
f
y
ou
e
v
e
r
fee
l do
w
n like
th
a
t
a
g
a
in,
w
ill
y
ou,
a
t l
ea
st
c
a
ll m
e,
t
e
x
t m
e
, som
e
thin
g
?
D
o
e
s
E
th
a
n still h
a
v
e

?”

“Yea
h,
E
t
h
a
n took the
.
2
2.
I

m not g
e
tting
it b
ac
k
.

H
e
tilt
e
d his h
ea
d do
w
n
a
nd took h
e
r mouth just b
eca
use
he
n
e
e
d
e
d the
c
on
t
ac
t.
H
e
g
n
a
we
d on h
e
r
lips
a
nd th
e
n
re
st
e
d his h
ea
d on h
er
s.

I
do
n

t
wa
nt to die
a
n
ymo
r
e
,
K
ee
g
a
n
.

“T
h
e
n
I
g
u
e
ss
we’
ll h
a
v
e
to m
a
ke
su
r
e
y
ou don

t
d
o
a
n
y
thi
n
g
stupid.”

 

 

T
h
a
nks to plump
Terr
i
L
y
n
n

s
d
e
votion to him,
R
ob
b
y
M
a
c
k St
e
v
e
ns h
a
d
a
m
a
k
e
shi
f
t
wea
pon in his po
c
k
e
t, a
b
lu
e
p
r
int of
the
hospit
a
l

s
e
nti
r
e
l
a
y
out in his h
ea
d,
a
nd a
g
ut
s
y
pl
a
n
f
or
free
dom.

T
oni
g
ht, it
wa
s now
or
n
e
v
er
.

H
e
st
re
t
c
h
e
d out on his sin
g
l
e-
si
z
ed
b
e
d
a
nd
wa
it
e
d
f
or
the
n
i
g
ht
g
u
ar
d to
m
a
ke
his
r
ounds.
T
he
slo
w-w
itt
e
d
o
r
d
er
l
y
usu
a
l
l
y
c
h
e
c
k
e
d
t
he
door
a
t
a
p
p
r
o
x
im
a
t
e
l
y
t
e
n
-
thi
r
t
y
b
ef
o
r
e t
a
king
his
e
v
e
ni
n
g
b
rea
k
to
g
o outside
a
nd smoke
a
c
i
g
a
r
e
tt
e
.

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