“Ugh. I don’t know, V. I’d rather wait here for you. I don’t even care if we make it to the beach, but I don’t want to leave you alone.”
“You’re being silly. I don’t want you here hovering. If I scream, or cry, or throw the book, I’d prefer there be no witnesses to my meltdown.”
“Pffft. Okay. Fine. Keep your phone on and call me before you head down. I’ll meet you.”
She gives me an epically dramatic eye roll before conceding.
“Damn.” These stairs are much steeper than I realized. Vaughn could definitely beat me down these if we’re both wearing six-inch heels.
She was right about the monkeys, too. There are several down here.Is that a weasel?
Google: beach animal resembling a weasel
“Ah. A mongoose.”I knew that.
The beach weasel keeps getting closer and closer.
“Nosy little bastard, aren’t you.”
I’m setting out the chairs and laying towels across them. As I pierce the sand with the pole of the umbrella, the sand mammal uses this moment of inattention to rifle through my beach bag.
“Stop it. You little shit. Hey! Bring that back!”
He took my damn phone. Chasing a whiskered demon all over the beach was not how I planned to spend the afternoon.
The situation quickly spirals out of my control. Before I know it, I’ve been chasing Timon all over hell and back.This little fucker is fast. I’m out of breath, I’ve fallen twice, and I’m still no closer to getting my phone back. I’m convinced the little jerk is messing with me, so I decide to feign disinterest and go back to sit in my chair. Sure enough, he watches me from afar for a few minutes before incrementally creeping closer and closer to where I’m seated.
Finally, he’s almost within touching distance. This little meerkat of terror makes a soft squeaking noise and holds my phone above his head, twisting it back and forth. He’s still too far to risk it. My multiple dive attempts have taught me that he can dart out of the way quicker than a bullet.
He continues to creep closer until his thieving hand is on my shin and the other clutches my phone, resting on the sand. He lets out a little MEEP, and I slowly lean forward, trying not to spook the rat bastard.
“How ‘bout a trade between friends? Huh? I’ve got a protein bar in the bag. It’s all yours if you give me the phone. Sound good?”
His tiny hand leaves my shin to cover his chest in dramatic offense.
“Okay. Okay. Not a protein guy. That’s fine. My wife has some chocolate and sugary shit in here, too. How about an orange slice? It’s basically chewy orange sugar.”
Mr. rodent of the tropics ticks his chin up, displaying that might be of interest to him, so I grab the bag and shake it between us. He drops the phone, reaching for the bag, and I make my move. I throw the bag of candy at him, toppling all nine inches of him to the ground so I can reach out and nab my phone. Quickly, I look to see if I have any texts from Vaughn, butthere’s nothing.
Playing my part as the unwilling participant in this good guy, bad guy struggle of male dominance has taken much longer than I realized. It’s been well over an hour, and I haven’t heard from Vaughn. She can spend a whole day getting lost in a book. She does it all the time. I’m just surprised that she hasn’t wanted to come down to the beach by now.
“Damn it!”
My phone is too hot to make a call. Concern or paranoia or whatever it is gets the best of me, and I decide to make the trek back up the stone steps to check on Vaughn.
“I’m going to head back up real quick and check on my wife. We’ll be back in a bit.”
Talking to a damn beach pirate.
Chapter 36
Elijah
“Vaughn. You about done in there?”
My heart sinks when I see the state of our room. The book is open on the floor near the door where I’m standing, like she threw it at someone. The bedside lamp has been unplugged, and it’s lying on the floor, busted up.That’s blood.There’s blood on the base of the lamp. From what I can break down of the scene, Vaughn must’ve clubbed someone with the lamp. She got them good enough to draw blood, but she’s not here.
“Vaughn!”
