Page 53 of Finders Reapers

He cleared his throat. “You said you wanted to swim?”

I smiled my thanks and stood up, a blush crossing my cheeks. British accent, hot guy, an artificial bond making me feel like we were besties even though we had just met? Yeah, that was a recipe for disaster.

I strode to the edge of the pool with confidence that I didn’t feel and dived off the edge.

It was difficult to get any lengths in. The pool was for recreation, not for exercise. There were too many people loitering in groups, playing and splashing. I dove down, pushing off the edge and holding my breath as long as I was able as I powered through the water. Allowing the world to slide away like the water off my skin as I sliced through the pool.

It was quiet under the water. Only the dull echo of the pool filtration system and the bodiless nothingness. Lines of sunlight caught and reflected onto the bottom of the pool, and I was back to the familiar.

I could almost pretend I was at my pool at home, doing laps, before breakfast. Waiting for Cody to wake up, so we could eat together.

Damn. Cody.

I had been putting off my heartache for as long as possible, but placing flexitape over the gushing wound wasn’t doing me any good. It felt like I was bleeding internally, though that life was gone and done.

Betrayal left a mark.

I broke the surface and took a sweeping breath before launching into another length. Kicking my legs to propel me forward. My lungs began to burn, but I stayed under, carrying myself as far as my momentum would go.

It came like a hand, grabbing me and wrenching my head to the side.

Trees. Skeletal dogs. Phantoms chasing. Snarling. A gnawing mouth chewing, chewing, bones, gristle, and skin.

Was I seeing things? Had I had a seizure or something?

I broke free of the surface, allowing my feet to touch the bottom as I placed my head in my hands and hacked up a lung full of water. I couldn’t help but pat my arms and flick my hands—my skin was too tight, and for a moment, it hadn’t felt like I was inside it at all. It felt like I was in a forest, running for my life.

I had no idea what I had just seen, but I was frightened. The sun no longer felt hot on my skin. I was cold enough for goose flesh.

I swam to the edge of the pool and lifted myself up, racing to the lounger to get my towel. I wrapped it around myself and sat on the edge. I scanned the area, trying to find Jamal. Eventually, I spotted him at the bar on the other side of the water, at the end of a long line of private cabanas.

I debated going over. Jamal held a large cocktail in his hand, the drink pink with a wedge of pineapple on the rim—no doubt alcoholic. I’d had a drink the night before, but the experience had been nothing to write home about. Alcohol didn’t touch Reapers the same way as living people.

As I watched Jamal flash his pearly white teeth at another woman, Hispanic, with beautiful dark hair that ran right to her waist, I couldn’t help but wonder if he was trying to hide some sort of pain with his flirtatious nature—or if I as ascribing some deepness to Jamal that just wasn’t there.

I knew from personal experience that the people that smiled the most carried the most pain. My mother was evidence of that. Even after the breast cancer had stolen her hair and ravaged her body, she had always smiled. It wasn’t until the end, when that cancer had eaten away at her insides, that it also corroded whatever made my mother sparkle.

We had celebrated her remission, but she had killed herself a few months later. I’d hadn’t seen her body, but I had come home one day, and she just wasn’t there.

My father had never recovered.

Bracing myself, in case I wasn’t wanted or needed, I secured my towel and made my way to the bar.

At the very least, I could order a drink, and if Jamal was busy, I would excuse myself and go back to the room.

I didn’t want to admit that seeing Jamal with another woman turned my stomach sour and made my heart clench in a way that was not so nice.

I had only just met the guy, but he was one of the only people that had been nice to me. After the reception from Maddox and Rome, I had expected to be treated as a burden, but Jamal had never made me feel that way. Even though he was clearly playing babysitter.

I wondered how long Jamal had been a Reaper. He seemed so confident and at ease with himself. Something that I had always wished I could be.

If the whole death business needed a face for a PR campaign, I would have picked Jamal.

I quickly made my way across the edge of the pool and flashed Jamal a smile as I approached but made a point not to get too close.

Even though the idea of Jamal standing, chatting, or flirting with another woman made me feel vaguely sick, I didn’t want to thrust myself into their conversation and act like a jealous freak.

I waved at the bartender and opened my mouth to order a drink when I felt an arm hook around my bare waist. An Italian curse left my throat as I was tugged down the bar and under the crook of Jamal’s arm; his body heat was like a warm blanket over my shoulders.