Chasing Forever Down (Drenaline Surf Series) (14 page)

“
A.J., you’re seeking,” Reed says. He looks over at me. “And you’re hiding with me.”

“
Alright,” A.J. says. “Just keep Lickety away from her.”

“
Shut up,” Reed says. He looks over at me. “Come on. We’re safe.”

We leave A.J.
on the old carousel straddling an orange octopus. He buries his face into a tentacle and begins to count to what is supposed to be one hundred. Alston and Linzi run in the opposite direction, past the rusted red and white tilt-a-whirl. Reed leads me through the shadows behind the pirate ship ride. A turquoise dragon takes up the entire side of the wooden ship, and his orange eyes face the sky. I’ve seen him before – on A.J.’s arm.

Reed gr
abs my arm and pulls me to him. “Stay close,” he whispers. “We have to keep moving. We’re going to sneak into the House of Mirrors, but you have to watch your step. The floor is metal, and it echoes.”

We slide along the back side of the
ship facing the ocean. I bet the view of the water at sunset from the high point of the ship was beautiful in its day. It’s sad to know a place that once brought joy to so many people could go to ruins in such a short time. I wonder how often A.J. used to come out here.

We slip behind an old game booth, and Reed puts his finger over his lips. A.J. hollers in the distance that time’s up
. We haven’t even made it to the House of Mirrors yet. I’m not sure I really want to if the ghost of Lickety Split and his other personalities might be lurking around in there.

“
Trust me?” Reed whispers.

His hazel eyes are lit up by the moonlight, and his nice guy attitude overflows from his pores in a way that, any other time, would sweep me and any other girl off her feet.

“I trust you,” I whisper back, not nearly as convincing as Reed.

The entranceway to the House of Mirrors is a long metal ramp
. There’s no way we can go inside without being seen and waking the spirits of the carnival grounds. Reed points to an emergency exit on the side of the building. He climbs in first and pulls me up into the old house with him. The light of his cell phone startles me in the darkness. It bounces off all the mirrors surrounding us.

“
Upstairs,” he whispers. He locks his fingers with mine. “I don’t want to lose you in the dark.”

He uses his free hand to light our path, and I watch the metal flooring so I won’t look up and see Lickety Split’s face staring at me through the many mirrors. I step softly, hoping not to draw A.J.’s attention to us…or anyone else’s for that matter.

We stop on the top floor. This place is a crazy maze that Reed luckily knows his way around. “Stay here. I’m going to see where A.J. is,” Reed says just above a whisper.

My knees are shaky, and I wish I had a railing or something nearby because I’m absolutely terrified. The blue glow moves across the room, and Reed laughs though it’s barely audible.

“We’re good,” he whispers. “Trust me on this, okay?”

“
On what?” I whisper.

He holds his cell phone up and pull
s one of the mirrors back like a sliding patio door. He shines his phone inside and looks back at me. “A.J. will never find us in here.”

I step inside against my better judgment, and Reed slides the door back into place. His cell phone slips back into his pocket, leaving us alone with the pitch black night.

“His name is Shark McAllister,” Reed whispers so closely to me that I can feel his breath on my neck. “Well, Jake McAllister, but everyone called him Shark. You’ve seen his work. It’s hanging up in the store and at Drenaline and basically anywhere else you look in the cove.”

The silver logo on the shark photographs flashes through my mind.
I pull back and try to see Reed’s face, but I see nothing in the dark. I latch onto his arm to steady myself. I feel like I’m on one of those rides where I’m suspended in the air and begging gravity to put me back on the ground.

“
He was Vin’s best friend,” Reed says. “He was a year older than Vin, local photographer. But he was a hardcore surfer, as hardcore as Taylor is now.”

My increased heartbeat echoes against the metal floor, but as my breathing calms, I realize it
’s not my heart that’s echoing.

“
Shhhh,” Reed whispers. He pulls me tightly against him, and I bury my face into his chest, breathing in the pineapple scent of his laundry detergent. I could melt in the smell of pineapple and die happily, I do believe.

“
I know you’re up here,” A.J. hollers out. “And don’t even think of jumping out and scaring me, you fucker. I know you and Blondie are in here sucking face since you couldn’t in the Jeep!”

Reed’s body shakes as he tries to fight his laughter, which doesn’t help me any because I can feel his every move, and I’m piercing my lip trying not to laugh as well. A.J.’s footsteps draw closer, and Reed’s arms constrict around me, pressing me into his torso. I’m barely breathing just trying to stay silent.

“Alright!” A.J. shouts out. “I’m leaving you lovebirds alone…but Lickety can see you!”

His footsteps are loud and fast against the ramp outside, and Reed releases me from his anaconda grip.

“I think we’re good for real now,” he says.

He leans against the wall and pulls his cell phone out of his pocket to light up our tiny hideout.
“Shark was the best surfer I knew, but he wouldn’t do it professionally because he didn’t want the competition to suck the fun out of it for him.”

“
So he was a photographer,” I say.

“
By profession, yeah,” Reed says. “I mean, he loved it, don’t get me wrong, but it was a job. He was really into underwater photography. His shark photos made him locally famous. Most of Cali knows his work.”

I want to ask where I can buy some of his work, but I don
’t want to draw away from the conversation. Still, I know one of those black and white shark photos would look amazing in a frame of driftwood.

“
Once he had some money saved up, he talked to my parents about building next to the store. We helped him build Drenaline Surf from the ground up. And that place blew up like we never expected,” Reed says.

Reed shakes his head, slinging his bangs from his eyes.
“He had the right reputation and went into business at just the right time. Two months after he opened, this kid walked through the door looking to buy a surfboard. An hour later, Shark had his own protégé.”

“
Colby Taylor,” I say.

Reed nods.
“He was on an intermediate level, but Shark saw his potential. They trained together every single day. In time, Drenaline was doing well enough that Shark thought he could afford to put his name on something, and he wanted it on Taylor.”

“
His first and only sponsor,” I remember aloud. I read that on the brochure at the bakery.

“
Yep,” Reed confirms. “But the first time Taylor competed, Shark had to stay at the store. He wasn’t as fully staffed back then, and it was in the heart of surf season, so he couldn’t lose the business.”

My stomach sinks like a captured pirate ship. This is where the story changes. I can sense it in Reed
’s voice.

“
What happened?” I ask.

“
Taylor called him to tell him he’d won,” Reed says. “It was huge, you know? For him, for Shark, for Drenaline. So Shark went out for a victory surf at sunset. He knew better, but he was so excited.”

I blink repeatedly to fight the tears, but they drip down my face, and I taste it
– just like the salty ocean is dripping from my eyes.

“
The chop was bad. And he knew it, damn it. He knew it,” Reed says. His body sinks just a bit against the metal wall behind him. “Rip current grabbed him, sucked him right in.”

“
He drowned,” I whisper.

Reed nods.
“I try to tell myself even now that that’s how Shark would’ve wanted to go – doing what he loved, in the ocean, celebrating – but it doesn’t make it any easier.”

He slides his phone back into his pocket, leaving us in the dark space behind the mirror. It
’s like that awkward moment at the funeral home where you’ve hugged someone and offered your condolences, but you know it’s not enough nor will it ever be. So I just stand here and hope he’ll say something to break the silence. And he does.

“
Vin took it the hardest though,” he says. “He’s dealt with Shark’s death every day since it happened, and he’s going to keep dealing with it.”

There
’s more to what he’s saying. I can hear it in his voice, but I don’t ask right now. It’s not the right time. They’re all dealing with the repercussions of Shark’s victory swim, but whatever Vin’s dealing with is bigger. Maybe that’s what pushed him into his con-artist lifestyle – cheating people because he was cheated out of time with his best friend.

“
You know, it’s weird telling you all this stuff. We spend all of our time trying to keep everything under wraps with Taylor – not spilling our guts about Shark and Vin and everything else,” Reed says.

He laughs, and most of the tension falls through
the floor. I can breathe again, at least for a moment. The thought of conquering Vin leaves a knot in my stomach. He’ll be my biggest obstacle yet, even more so than driving across the country blindly in hopes of finding a guy with a cover band’s drumsticks.

A.J.’s scream rips that knot from my stomach up through my throat. Reed jumps at the same time and grabs the sliding mirror. Moonlight bounces off the warped mirrors, and Reed’s grasp on my wrist tightens as he me pulls through the maze. Our shoes echo against the metal ramp as we run outside of the House of Mirrors.

“Where the hell is he?” Alston hollers out. He and Linzi meet us in front of an old popcorn stand. Alston spins in a circle, glancing over the grounds as best he can. “This isn’t funny, A.J.! Where are you?” he shouts out.

The lovebirds head left in
the direction of the old pirate ship, and I go with Reed toward the sea creature carousel. All of our voices blend together through the night calling out A.J.’s name with a few curse words and threats sprinkled in from Alston.

“
This isn’t funny,” Alston says as he and Linzi approach us again. “He’s just fucking with us because he can…all that talk about Lickety Split and this place being haunted. He’s trying to scare us. Motherfucker!”

Alston
kicks what’s left of a wooden ticket booth. I’m surprised it doesn’t collapse from the force.

Reed takes a deep breath.
“Calm down. He’s around here. He’s just goofing off.”

On cue, A.J. leaps out of the dark game booth
close by, screaming and growling in some kind of possessed zombie way. We all scream.

“
I’m sorry!” A.J. yells. He hops over the side of the booth and runs toward us. He grabs me instantly. “Vin made me. I’m sorry.”

I push him away and watch Vin’s shadow move toward us from his and A.J.’s hiding spot. He’s laughing, and had Reed not just told me all about Shark, I’d be
cursing and screaming and possibly kicking Vin right now. How could we not hear his motorcycle?

A.J.’s arms tighten around me from behind, and his chin settles into the hollow part of my shoulder. He smells like cigarettes and wintergreen gum.

“Please forgive me,” he begs. “It’s really Vin’s fault. He held me at gunpoint.”

A.J. is so ridiculous that I can’t help laughing. Alston
mumbles under his breath about A.J.’s stupidity.

Vin looks directly at me.
“Lighten up, Sunshine. It’s all in fun, right?”

He laughs, and I really didn’t picture him as the type to goof off with A.J. Maybe I
can
break through his tough guy exterior in time to find Colby and chase forever down.

“
I thought you were working tonight,” I say.

“
I was,” he replies. “But there’s a storm brewing.”

A.J.’s arms fall from around me, and Alston pulls away from
Linzi. The two of them, along with Reed, freeze in a state of panic – their faces suddenly pale and eyes widened. A chill of fear and confusion sweeps over my skin. And in an instant of perfectly aligned paper stars, they all say one word – “Fuck.”

CHAPTER
12

Vin Brooks is probably the only other person in Crescent Cove awake at this hour. His eyes were glazed over with the blues and greens of the weather channel when I left him on the couch two hours ago. Everyone else finally crashed,
but Vin’s silent treatment was more annoying than his usual smartass comments. Lightning flashes across the bedroom like a massive camera flash. There’s no way I can sleep through this.

 
Gusts of wind howl around the side of the house as the ocean hurls salty water over the sand and through the night air, mixing with the rain. Solomon spins around in the window. His blue reflection splashes on the ceiling and walls. The weatherman made mention earlier of swells and high waves, which to a commoner means ‘stay inside.’ But to a surfer, it means perfect monster waves. Still, even the most hardcore surfers won’t be out in this disaster until daybreak.