Page 11 of Until Presley (Happily Ever Alpha World)

CHAPTER

EIGHT

PRESLEY

I watch in the distance as a boat leaves the area where the tracking locator is registering. I hope they didn’t mess with our sharks. Leah didn’t show up today, and I left her another message, letting her know Dr. Miller wasn’t happy.

I offered to help remove the transmitters from the dolphins. We’ve collected them and are now going to collect the ones from the sharks. They were set to remove from the sharks today automatically.

I see the floats in the distance, but there is a large group of sharks attacking something in the water before them.

Margo screams from the bow of the boat.

Rushing out of the cabin, I look down, and that’s when I see a shark swim off with a human arm in their mouth. Dr. Miller pushes past us and shoots a flare gun at the group of sharks, and they disperse but not far.

Margo holds on to me as they fish the body out of the water, and I’m in shock as I look down at the dead woman. When they roll her, my legs buckle, and I fall to the deck.

C oming to, I look up from my position on the bench at George. He’s smiling down at me and brushing a cool cloth against my forehead.

“There you are.” He chuckles. “Dr. Miller wants to talk to you.” He steps back, and I glance to where the body is lying, now covered.

I know who it is, and I wonder if anyone else has figured it out. Her face is still intact, but her abdomen is shredded. She hadn’t been in the water very long.

“Oh, by the way, your phone went off a couple of times.” George hands me my cell phone.

I must have dropped it when I passed out. I look at it, but I can’t focus on it. I still see her eyes staring back at me. I choke and turn to find a bucket being shoved in front of me. I vomit until I’m dry heaving, and tears roll down my face.

“It’s her, isn’t it?” Dr. Miller asks me as he pats my back.

I look up at him, trying to focus on his face, but all I can see are her sightless blue eyes staring back at me. I see the damage to her body and pray she was dead before they attacked her.

“Presley,” Dr. Miller says with a bite in his tone, and it snaps me out of my head.

“It’s her,” I cry, and he nods before moving away from me. I see the tears in his eyes before he turns his back.

The whole way back to the docks, I can’t tear my eyes from her tarp-covered body, her blood staining the floor of the boat. My heart aches, and my chest constricts at the thought of never talking to her again. Never go out dancing with her again.

We pull into our slip, and I still don’t move. I just stare as the police and coroner come to claim her body.

“I’ll call her family,” Dr. Miller says, and I still don’t look up.

Tanned legs appear in my view, blocking her from my sight, and I’m lifted into arms I know. His smell engulfs me, and for just a moment, I’m glad I’m still alive.

“Come on, sprite.” His deep voice rumbles against my cheek as I lay my head against his chest.

He steps off the boat, and that’s when it hits me.

“I can’t leave. She’s my best friend.” I start to fight him, but he holds me tight.

“They already took her, Presley.” He points to a gurney being pushed up the dock to the pier.

“I didn’t say goodbye,” I cry, and he buries my face into his neck as clicking sounds and flashing lights explode around us.

“Stay back.” I hear another voice, but I keep my face against his skin. His beard brushing against the side of my head. I cry into his neck. Holding on to him for dear life.

Leah is gone.

Ham

I couldn’t wait to see her, but I never expected what I found when I arrived at the dock.

As more police officers showed up, followed by a coroner’s crew, I knew something bad had happened.

Walker sent Otto to wait with me, clearly concerned after I started yelling at a police officer while I was on the phone with him.

I wasn’t prepared for the overwhelming relief when I learned she was okay, but the devastation on her face was almost too much for me.

She didn’t even look up at me until I had her in my arms. The professor told me it was her friend Leah who was killed.

He didn’t say more, and I don’t know what happened, but as I hold my girl and move us through the crowd toward my Jeep, her silent tears roll down my neck.

Her body trembles, and I hold her tighter, feeling like she’s going to shatter apart in my arms.

“Baby, where are the keys for your car?” I ask when we reach our vehicles. I parked next to her.

“Hooked to my bag,” she says softly, her lips pressing against my throat.

Otto unclips them from the bag in my hand.

“Take her car to the shop. I’m taking her to my house.”

“No, I should go home. You don’t want to be with me through this.”

“Not happening, baby. The press already has your name because that bitch Margo told them. You’ll be safe at my place.” I pray she doesn’t argue with me more.

“Okay.” She agrees.

I take a deep breath, and my nerves settle a bit. I get my Jeep door open and sit her in the seat. She doesn’t want to let me go.

“Sprite, I need to drive. I promise as soon as we get home, I’ll hold you all night.”

“Okay,” she says softly and lets me go. Her beautiful eyes, swollen and red, look up at me. I lean in to kiss her, but she quickly covers her mouth. “I threw up. I need to brush my teeth.” I press a kiss to her nose and then her forehead.

“I got a spare you can use.”

I buckle her in and then make my way to the driver’s side. As I glance back, I see the reporters still milling around. I hope I can get her home without anyone following us, but if not, I have security and a private place for her to mourn.

When I pull out of the parking lot, I check that we aren’t being followed before making my way to my place. I park the Jeep inside the garage to keep it out of view.

Presley hasn’t spoken or asked more about where we are going. She just stares ahead, and I’m beginning to worry about her. I remember when Walker went through something similar to this with Hanna and how useless he felt.

I open her door, and she turns to look at me.

Her eyes don’t have their normal green sparkle to them.

Instead, they are almost a dull greenish-gray and full of pain.

I reach over her and release the seatbelt.

She leans into me, and I lift her up into my arms. My mom is out tonight, having dinner with Win.

I move through the house and up to my bedroom.

After helping Presley strip out of her swimsuit and shorts, I slip one of my T-shirts over her head.

She pulls up the neck and inhales deeply, and I watch as a calmness settles over her.

I help her into the bathroom, where I hand her a spare toothbrush.

After she’s done freshening up, I carry her to the bed and flip back the comforter before gently laying her down.

She pulls the ponytail from her hair, and I watch as her blond strands fall across my black sheets.

A small weight lifts off my chest. I thought I lost her.

I thought a shark had taken her, but then I heard it wasn’t anyone on the boat.

It was her friend. My heart hurts for her.

I kick off my shoes, strip down to my boxers, and climb into bed next to her. I hold her as she rests in my arms. She falls asleep but wakes up several times, screaming and crying.

“They took her arm. Her eyes wouldn’t stop staring at me,” she cries as she claws at me, trying to climb into my body.

“Shh, baby, I got you. Rest, and I’ll go make us some food. You need to eat.”

“You promise you won’t leave me?” She sounds so sad and childlike.

“I’ll just be downstairs, but I won’t go until you fall asleep again.”

“Okay.”

M y mother sits at the table and watches me as I move around the kitchen.

“Is she going to be okay?”

“I don’t know, but I do know I’ll help her through this.”

“Ham, it’s so sad. Her friend attacked by?—”

Presley’s phone goes off again, interrupting my mom’s thought.

I look at the screen. It’s her dad. I know he’s not going to stop calling. The police called, and I asked them to give her a day before they come to talk to her.

“Hello,” I answer her phone.

“Who is this?” Her father’s voice comes across the line.

“This is Ham.”

“I think I have the wrong number,” he says. I can just imagine he’s pulling the phone away from his ear.

“No, Dr. Blanchard, you don’t have the wrong number.” I pause, but when he doesn’t say anything, I add, “I’m Presley’s boyfriend.”

“Presley doesn’t have a boyfriend,” a female voice with a Texan accent says.

“She does, and I’m him. We are still new. Are you her stepmother?”

The woman on the other end of the line confirms she’s Thea.

My mom starts scribbling on a sheet of paper and taps it when she’s done. She wants me to tell them she’s okay.

“Presley is resting. She’s really upset right now.”

“Thank goodness it wasn’t her.” I hear the relief in her father’s voice.

“It wasn’t, but she knew who it was. I don’t know if I’m allowed to tell you who it was yet.”

“That’s okay. Tell her to call us when she wakes up,” her stepmother says, and they say goodbye and hang up.

“Was that my parents?” I turn toward the soft voice and see my girl standing on the last step. She’s still in my shirt, and she brushes her legs together, trying to make herself smaller. “Did you answer my phone, or did you call them?”

“They called, and yes it was them. I knew he’d keep calling. The news is reporting that a marine biologist based here was killed, but they aren’t identifying her yet. Your parents were worried it was you.”

“I doubt it,” she says, and I move toward her.

“They were. He called.”

She looks up at me as I stand in front of her. Even on a step, she’s smaller than me. I wrap my arms around her body, and she leans into me.

“I made some soup for you.”

“Thank you,” she says, and I pull away, but she grabs my hand. When she sees my mom sitting at the table, she stops. “Oh god, let me go get dressed.” She tries to turn away, but I keep a hold of her.

“My shirt is longer than your shorts,” I tell her. We approach the table, and my mom stands up. “Mom, this is my Presley. Presley, this is my mom, Florence.”

Mom doesn’t disappoint. When Presley holds out her hand, my mom pulls her into her body and hugs her tight.

For a moment, Presley just stands there, and then I watch the moment she accepts the comfort my mom is offering.

She sinks into her body and wraps her arms around my mother.

I see her clutch at the back of her shirt.

My mom holds on to her just as tightly, and she starts whispering things I can’t entirely hear.

Presley’s shoulders start to shake, and they continue to hold each other.

I want to pull my girl from her arms and comfort her, but I know she needs this.

After a moment, they part, and Presley wipes at her face. I hand her some tissue, and she blows her nose before looking at my mom, who is only a few inches taller than her.

“It’s been so long since I’ve been hugged like that.”

“Mom hugs are the best, aren’t they?” My mom doesn’t know the mistake she’s made, but Presley, ever graceful, smiles at her.

“My mom’s hugs were the best. Thank you.”

“What?” My mom looks between me and Presley. “Oh, sweet girl, I’m so sorry.” She pulls her into her body again for a brief hug.

“Thank you again, Florence.” Presley turns to face me.

“Call me Mom or Flo,” my mom offers, and Presley turns back and nods at her. I see a soft smile cross her face, and I want to distract her from her loss.

“What’s the smile, babe?” I ask, and she turns to look at me.

“My best friend Morgan has a dog named Flo. She’s her protection dog that Morgan’s husband trained. She was trained as a tracking dog for the police.”

“So, she’s a good dog?” my mom asks Presley.

“She’s the best. She protected Morgan and her daughter during a home invasion.”

“Then I’m okay with you remembering my name because of a dog.”

“Thank you. It’s going to take days before the police announce Leah’s name. Her next of kin is her brother, and he’s currently with the WHO somewhere in Africa, last she told me,” Presley says as she sits down, returning to the subject we were discussing before I tried to distract her.

“Where are her parents?” my mom asks, and I turn from the bowl I’m ladling soup into for her.

“Her parents died when she was a teenager. Her older brother has taken care of her since then. She, like me, traveled around the world too.”

“Is that one of the reasons you were so close?” I set down the bowl in front of her. Then I sit next to her and take her hand as I wait for her to answer my question.

She takes a deep breath, and the tears pop up again. “One of them. We also went to college together. She was one of the few people who didn’t look down on me because of my age.”

“What?” My mother leans forward at the table.

“I’m two years younger than most of the students in the doctoral program, and I’m also doing it faster because I work through my summers and will double up my studies. I don’t have anything to focus on but my schooling.”

“Ah.” My mother looks between the two of us, and I know what she’s thinking.

I wonder how long it’s going to take Presley to realize that she’s putting me second, just like her father does to her. Yes, she doesn’t really want this relationship, and I can see it in her eyes that she has an end date for us, but I’m going to convince her that we will never end.