Page 240 of Lana Pecherczyk

Another bird arrived. Bigger. Blacker. It flew in a pattern that interlocked with the first. The larger bird cawed, desperate and demanding. Almost as if he had something to say to her. Like it was calling her name.

But that was nuts. Birds didn’t talk.

Did they?

“…from your old life…”

Blake’s head snapped up. That wasn’t cawing. That was … a man’s voice. Warm. Inviting.

Much nicer than Jeff’s.

“…and your new one.”

Her legs tingled with the first hint of feeling. She twirled in the water, searching for the stranger, but only found more ocean. And now the yacht was getting away. She swam after it. One stroke. Two. Then stilled.

The circling crow’s caws grew louder. Insistent. Calling her back. It changed into words again.

“Remember when we first met, and you said, ‘Hell will freeze over before I take me clothes off for you.’ Gentle reminder, Blake. You did take your clothes off for me. Often. Ergo … I’m painting a frozen hellish landscape in our trove. That way any time I want to look at your perfect ti?—”

“For Crimson’s sake.”A deeper, gruff voice.“Pups in the room!”

Blake laughed. Water sprayed from her mouth. She wasn’t sure why that was funny, but that voice. Not at the second, grumpy one. The first one. Every ounce of her being felt drawn to it. The warm timbre, the slight teasing note, the smile in it. The hint of male appreciation…

Heat flooded her body.

“Blake, every time you corrected ‘me’ to ‘my’ it was like you erased a part of yourself to please dickface.”

Her hands fluttered, unsure which direction to swim.

“Hello?” she called. “Who are you?”

“I’ve been collecting each of your mys and burning them, keeping only the mes. I’m painting a whole wall of them in our trove next to my cock and balls wall. They’ll be in a position of honor.”

Another laugh burst out of Blake. What a weirdo. Who would want to collect her embarrassing words? To keep them?

“Her ex sounds like a right cunt, that one.”A British woman’s voice.

Yeah, Jeffwasa cunt. And a dickface.

Blake was better than this. She stared after the yacht sailing away.

“Oi, Jeff!” she shouted, anger sizzling through her veins. “In case you missed it, you’re a cunt! And I wouldn’t get on your stupid boat if the world were ending.”

She frowned. Kicked. Treaded water. Her legs weren’t numb anymore.

“Oh yeah…”That sexy male voice deepened to a menacing purr.“And your ex’s boat? I’d paint it sinking. Over and over. In different ways.”

A loud crack thundered, startling Blake’s heart. The circling birds released a cry of triumph as the yacht split in half, and water poured through the cracks. Beige suits soaked. The passengers cried out for help, calling her name.

But she didn’t help.

“Screw those arseholes.” She swam in the opposite direction, following the birds’ flight path.

Pieces of debris floated past her, taking over with speed. Weird. Broken planks, a shattered mast, and fragments of cream-colored hull all drifted by. But instead of sinking, they bobbed on the surface like stepping stones.

She pulled herself onto the first piece of wood. It was solid. Real. Her bare feet found purchase, and she leaped to the next fragment, then the next. The birds spiraled upward, leading her higher.

“I’d paint your eucalyptus tree,”the black bird said.“Not the shitty one Trix gave you … the one from your old backyard.”