Chapter Three
Isla
Present
“Number one rule. Situational awareness,” the deep, familiar voice reprimanded, shocking me out of my solitary bubble as I sat watching all the boats.
Turning, I held my hand to my forehead to block the bright sun and smiled wide, but I didn’t get up from my coveted bench that I’d claimed before sunrise. “Hi! You found me.”
“I always find you.” Scanning across the marina, my brother didn’t smile. “You should’ve heard me come up on your six.”
Still smiling, knowing he was right, I played it off.
“I did.” I hadn’t. “I knew it was you.” Even though no one else ever looked for me, I hadn’t been thinking about him.
I was obsessing over a different former SEAL.
One with piercing green eyes and a dominant, tyrannical disposition that made my brother seem outright docile.
Which was a problem. And the very reason why I’d dropped my guard and neglected the first rule our father had taught us—always be aware of your surroundings.
I’d been neglecting a lot of things.
For weeks.
Which was also a problem. And why, I was sure, my brother was here. “I did text you.” Two words. Ebb tide. It was our code for all clear, status normal. Except nothing about me had felt normal in a month.
“That was twenty-nine days ago.” He scanned the docks. “Then the cell went cold in the Canary Islands.”
“Yeah, sorry about that.” I’d had to leave the phone.
For many reasons. Mostly my own sanity. But the reality was, it’d been compromised.
I didn’t live life with many rules, but this was one I kept.
I never revealed my brother’s identity or existence.
And he didn’t reveal mine. Not that I had a pressing reason like him, but the way we’d been raised stuck with a person.
“Miami Beach,” my brother stated without any intonation, ignoring my apology. Which was as close to his version of forgiveness as I’d ever get.
I let out a small laugh. “Don’t like it here?” I kinda did. Before a week ago, I’d never been to South Florida, but something about the energy of Miami Beach seemed… familiar.
“I don’t like having to repeatedly do this.” My brother looked down at me and let the reprimand hang there a moment between us. Then, knowing me too well, he deftly changed topics. “Another boat?”
“I don’t know.” I had been thinking about it. Pick a boat, take off again, go somewhere new. There were plenty of options coming and going, and even more empty boats to choose from if I wanted to squat, but that was another problem.
For the first time in my life, I didn’t want empty.
Or to aimlessly drift.
I looked back at the crystal-blue water as it picked up shimmering hits of sunlight and I wondered how I’d gotten to this mentally stagnant place.
I’d spent the past ten years making sure I didn’t have problems. I never let the little things bog me down, and I didn’t stress over things I couldn’t control. But now?
I had too much noise in my head, and all of it had the distinctive hum of regret.
“Come on.” My brother grabbed my well-worn, fifty-pound tactical backpack with one hand and slung it over a shoulder before holding out his other hand to me. “I got us a room.”
“That sounds ominous.” My brother didn’t like to have both of his hands occupied at the same time unless they were on his sniper rifle, and I didn’t like rooms. I liked air and water and sunlight.
Preferably warm sunlight, cool breezes, and enticingly clear waters.
With two out of three, Miami wasn’t bad.
There were trade winds, but they weren’t cool.
They were heavy with humidity. The first night here, when I’d slept on the beach, those languid, sultry excuses for a breeze had kept me comfortable.
Since then, the climate had grown on me.
His expressionless gaze locked on mine, his arm still extended, my brother didn’t comment.
“Fine.” Sighing, I took his hand.
He pulled me to my feet, then scanned the marina as he adjusted my backpack.
“You know, I can carry my own shit.”
“You could keep one of the dozens of cell phones I’ve given you and follow protocol.” His patented stare landed on me. “Especially after the last time I saw you.”
“Your protocol,” I corrected, purposely ignoring his latter comment.
“Ours,” he argued. Except my brother didn’t argue. He merely stated things without any change in tone. Whether or not you agreed or even if what he said made you upset, it always somehow came off as if it were your issue and not his.
“In my defense, I didn’t purposely lose the last phone you gave me.
” I wasn’t about to tell him it’d been taken by an infuriating SEAL who wasn’t completely dissimilar to my brother.
I also wasn’t going to tell him how that SEAL had tried to lock me up on his mega yacht—twice.
Besides, abandoning a compromised cell was one of our standard protocols.
Not that it was any great loss. I hated cell phones, and minus the one text, I’d never used that one anyway.
Considerably taller than me, his muscles large enough to block the sun, my brother made shade as he stared down at me with lines of thought creasing his brow. His eyes searched mine, but it didn’t look like he was seeing me at all as he stood perfectly still for two long moments.
Then he leaned down and kissed the top of my head. “I know.” His voice turned a hairbreadth softer. “And hi.”
My arms went around him, my heart rate settled, and air thick with humidity and familiarity filled my lungs.
Everything went right in the world as I hugged my brother.