Chapter 10
Trey
There was a moment during free fall when the thought, Welp, this is it, passed through his mind.
This was how Trey was going to die, a speck of a man flung from a cardboard box flap like a booger.
Oddly enough, this realization brought a brief feeling of peace.
Mainly because, lately, Trey had been the human equivalent of a booger and, therefore, should be flicked.
Besides being too poor to afford anything of luxury, he’d had the exact life he wanted with Catalina, and then he had to screw the whole thing up.
Their entire predicament, both the current status of their relationship and being flung from a box, was entirely his fault.
Disappearing into the white sandy depths in Cancun and being devoured by a beach cockroach might be a deserved fate for Trey.
At least a cockroach was a marginally better fate than a spider, which brought him some comfort.
The moment of acceptance and peace soon gave way to aggravation, because screw that.
He may currently be a human booger, but he came on this vacation determined to make things right with Catalina and fix whatever he had broken in the first place.
This whole flying through the air thing, while inconvenient, wasn’t about to stop him.
Not now, not ever. If he had to comb the whole entire beach to find her, then that's exactly what he was going—
“Oof!”
He grunted when he landed in something squishy and soft.
Well, not exactly soft, more springy and slimy and—Dear God, what was that smell?
It was as if he landed in a putrid cloud of sea guts.
Still dizzy from being flung through the air and the stench from the stringy, curly, yellowish-brown mass surrounding him, Trey had the sudden urge to puke out his breakfast. He rolled to his side and spit up a watery liquid.
Strangely, it felt rather good and was the first halfway nice thing to happen to him since the hot makeout session with his wife in the booth.
He lay there for a few seconds getting his bearings and trying not to think about how he’d give almost anything to be able to kiss Catalina again.
Trey started to grow used to the stench of his environment.
It was still horrendous but maybe slightly less awful than it had been when he first landed.
He rolled to his back again and squinted at where he’d imagine the sky would be.
A bright beam of sunlight pierced through the thick yellow mass, giving him a hint on where to go to escape his current location.
He untangled himself from the strange, clingy plant and made his way to where the vines and leaves was less thick.
One of his legs throbbed a little, like he’d twisted it weird, maybe when he landed. He was lucky it wasn’t worse, hoping it was something he could walk off.
Trey had survived.
Even better, this meant if he was alive, there was a chance Catalina was too. He only wished her location wasn’t an absolute mystery to him.
Limping his way to where the brush cleared, Trey found himself in the open and was able get a good view of the area.
In the distance was the man with the dolly, continuing to make his way down the pathway while bopping his head, none the wiser he had managed to lose two whole people he never knew existed.
It was strange to think the man might go home later, have his significant other ask how his day had been and he’d only answer, Fine, because, from his perspective, it had been.
Trey’s day was about as far from fine as it could be.
He had no idea of his own whereabouts, and, even worse, Catalina wasn’t near his side.
Maybe she was still safe inside the box.
As horrifying as it was to be cut off and alone, it was better than the alternative.
If she was flung out as well but wasn’t lucky enough to land on top of…
he turned to inspect the weird jungle he’d emerged from.
There was a lot of it, and he finally put together it was a type of seaweed.
Last month, he’d bragged to his brother that he and Catalina had won the raffle and were taking a romantic trip to Cancun.
John had mentioned that he heard they were having a bad seaweed season.
Trey didn’t even know seaweed had a season.
His brother mentioned the type of seaweed by name.
It was sar…something. Sargasm? The word sounded as if someone had merged sarcastic and orgasm into a single word.
Had Catalina ever sarcastically orgasmed with him?
What would that even look like? But this wasn’t the right word.
It was sarga…something—well, whatever. It was seaweed, and it stunk, and he hadn’t paid much attention to it when he was regular size.
Except he had noticed a few beach maintenance guys scooping up the stuff, because apparently cleaning seaweed from the beach was a real job when they were having a bad seaweed season.
Anyway, he’d rather Catalina be safe inside the box and not potentially injured out here with him in a jungle of smelly seaweed.
Even so, his situation sucked. When they were together, he felt as if things were still possible, even in a position as dire as this one.
Alone, he was already wondering what the point was.
There was no way to get to her or for her to find him.
His earlier proclamation to fix their relationship felt no more possible than a far-fetched wish made while blowing out a birthday candle.
He’d never see her again, never have a chance to make her orgasm, sarcastically or not, never get to hear her voice—
“Treeeeeeeyyyy!” The cry was more of a sob of desperation, and it stopped him in his tracks. “TREEEEEEEYYYYY!”
“Cat?” He couldn’t believe it. Turning around, he ran along the edge of the seaweed toward the cries, not caring about the slight pain in his leg. “CAT!” he shouted, his throat burning from pushing his vocal cords to their capacity. “Cat! Baby! Talk to me! Where are you?”
“Trey? Trey!”
Her voice was closer as he ripped through the mass of seaweed, his determined desire to get to her overtaking everything else.
They called each other’s names in a survival version of Marco Polo until he suddenly saw her fighting off vines clinging to her limbs.
Her hair was tangled in it, her cover-up dress was dirty, and her shoes were missing.
Catalina looked wild as she jerked and ripped her limbs away as though she was in a battle with the seaweed.
She’d temporarily escape from one situation only to fall into another tangled mass as she kept losing her footing.
His heart jumped, never so happy to see the fighting spirit of his wife alive and well. “Cat!”
Her bewildered gaze caught his, her mouth dropping open as she took a shuddering breath. “Trey?”
He couldn’t stop himself. Trey strode to her, untangling her enough that he could scoop her into his arms, lifting her to his chest. He needed to hold her, to make sure she was safe, and carry her from the jungle.
And it wasn't because he thought she couldn't make it on her own. Hell, he knew better than anyone that if there was a person who could thrive on pure spite and fire, it was Catalina. It was more that he needed to feel the weight of her close to his own body, to know she was here and he wasn’t stranded in this place by himself.
Maybe she felt the same because her arms wrapped around him and clung to his shoulders, her face burrowing into his neck.
Soon his skin became wet with her silent, hot tears.
As soon as they got most of the way past the edge of the seaweed, his shaky legs gave out and he dropped to the ground, still clutching his wife to him.
He ran his hands over her hair and body, hoping she’d find some reassurance in the gesture and providing the same to himself.
“I’ve got you. You’re okay. I’ve got you.
” Trey needed to check her for injuries, but, for now, this felt enough.
He could hold her close and ease her trembling with his own body.
“That…was…terrifying.” Her words were interrupted with heavy breaths that were on the edge of becoming sobs again. “You know I don’t like flying. I hate it. I never want to fly again.”
Oh God. Poor Cat. She’d always been a terrible flier.
Even on their flight to Cancun she had barely talked and had nervously chewed through a whole pack of gum.
He hated with every fiber of his being that she had to experience this.
He brushed his fingers over her head and pressed his lips to her temple.
“I know, baby. I’m so sorry. But you’re okay. You’re okay now.”
She sniffled. “I told you that being on that box flap wasn’t a good idea.”
He chuckled at this. “Okay, but I didn’t tell you to go onto the box flap with me.”
With these words, soft, vulnerable Cat disappeared.
She pulled away, glaring at him before shoving her way out of his arms. “Ugh, you drive me—I didn’t want you on the box flap either!
When are you going to stop making rash decisions like that?
You’re going to get us both killed.” She stood and stomped away from him, walking along the seaweed’s edge, her arms crossed tightly across her torso, not going toward anywhere in particular, but just away from him.
Trey wasn’t taking any more chances of them being separated again.
He followed after her, not quite seeing how he was one hundred percent in the wrong here, especially since he wasn’t the one who was almost run over by a dolly wheel earlier.
“So, what are we supposed to do? Just sit in a box and wait for someone to notice us?”
“I don’t know, but I don’t see how any of your ideas are going to make the situation better.”
“All I’m trying to do is save us,” he replied, imploring her to see that he’d take any kind of risk if it meant helping her.