Crystal Cove (Friday Harbor #4)(32)

Her thought process had been dismantled. She stared at it dumbly, her brain slow to process what her reaction should be, her limbs and torso shuddering violently.

Furious commands shot through the air, willing her into action. She knew the sounds were words, but they made no sense. Although she didn’t understand what she was supposed to do, her body took over. She found herself making clumsy pounces for the bag, like a puppy playing with a ball. The second time she tried, she managed to close her arms around the orange foam shape. She held it to her chest. Immediately she was towed through the punishing water.

Her thoughts kept disintegrating before she could attach meaning to them. It didn’t matter, although some distant part of her brain knew that it should matter. The whole world was water, above and below, water dragging at her feet, urging her to sink into the feeling and go to sleep where it was dark and calm, far beneath the waves.

Instead, she was hauled upward with stunning force. Consciousness jolted through her as she was dumped onto a padded bench in the back of the boat. Shivering too hard to speak or think, she lay on a bench, looking up at a man whose face was familiar but whose name she couldn’t recall. He stripped off his Windbreaker and wrapped it around her. Lightning split the sky with long branches as the man went to the helm station.

It was a recreational boat with a removable bow cover, unsuited to heavy open seas. The outboard engine snarled as the man threw it into gear. Since the waves were too high to put the boat into planing mode, he was forced to go slowly.

Jason. The recognition curled through the vapor of exhaustion, and with it, she felt the faintest flicker of emotion. She couldn’t fathom how he had come to be there. No sane person would put his life at risk for a woman he barely knew.

He worked methodically at the helm, taking ninety-degree turns, fighting waves that attacked the boat from all sides. It took experience and skill to do what he was doing, riding each crest at an angle, reducing power on each downward slope to keep from burying the bow. The boat rolled up and down, yawing, while the water’s energy threatened to push the stern sideways. Justine expected the boat to capsize in a trough at any moment.

She huddled inside the thin carapace of the waterproof jacket while her circulation made a cautious attempt to restore itself. Continuous full-body shivers made her teeth clack until her skull vibrated. Stiffening against the tremors could make them stop for a second, but they resumed instantly. Time faltered like a badly edited video. Her hands were entirely numb but she felt tack-hammer pulses at the insides of her elbows.

Justine closed her eyes, steeling herself to endure every upswing and dizzying descent, every smack of cold water coming over the side. Although she wasn’t watching Jason, she was aware of his struggle against every shift and jolt of the boat to adjust their course.

Eventually it seemed that the waves weren’t as rough. The engine was running slower. Raising her head, Justine cast a bleary glance toward the bow and recognized the lighthouse on its familiar bluff. He had gotten them to Cauldron Island. She couldn’t believe it.

Jason flipped the boat’s starboard bumpers to the outside of the hull. They approached the dock at an angle with the engine in neutral. As soon as the boat lined up, he shifted the engine in reverse, causing the stern to swing neatly toward the dock.

After cutting the engine, he proceeded to tie the lines. Seeing Justine struggling to sit upward, he pointed a finger at her and snarled a couple of words. Although she couldn’t hear him over the storm, it was clear that he didn’t want her to move yet. With despair, she saw the towering line of narrow stairs leading to the top of the bluff. The climb was a challenge even on good days. She wasn’t going to be able to make it.

When Jason had finished tying the lines to the dock cleats, he reached down into the boat for Justine. She gave him her stiff white hand and did her best to help as he pulled her out. As soon as her feet touched the dock, she found herself being lifted over Jason’s shoulder. Her body collapsed like a folding chair. He carried her fireman-style up the steps, one arm locked behind her knees, the other gripping the stair railing at intervals.

She tried to stiffen against the shivering, knowing the involuntary movements weren’t helping. But Jason’s hold on her was hard and secure. He ascended with astonishing ease, taking some of the stairs two at a time. As they reached the top, his breathing was labored but steady. He could have carried her twice as far without stopping.

Taking Justine to the front door of the limestone house, Jason banged on it with the side of his fist.

In a matter of seconds, the door opened. Justine heard anxious cries from both Rosemary and Sage … “Mother of Earth!” and “For Hades’ sake…”

Jason didn’t stop to ask or answer questions. He carried Justine into the main living area and started to issue commands before he had even deposited her on the sofa.

“Get blankets. Start a bath. Warm, not hot. And make some tea with sugar or honey.”

“What happened?” Rosemary asked, opening the storage ottoman beside the sofa and pulling out quilted blankets.

“Kayak capsized,” Jason said brusquely, bending over Justine’s shuddering form. He tugged off her wet neoprene boots. His voice was low and ferocious as he continued. “Did it occur to you to take five f**king minutes to listen to the weather radio, Justine? Ever hear of a small-craft advisory?”

Stung, she tried to explain that no advisories had been in effect when she’d set out, but she could only manage a few incoherent sounds through the chattering of her teeth.