I close my eyes, inhaling deeply as I tilt my head toward the sky, allowing the afternoon sun to beat down on my face. Taking two more breaths, I center myself, drowning it all out until there is only mere buzzing in my ears, but my being is entirely concentrated on my board.
The current flows past my shins—my familiar friends. They’ll carry me back to solid ground, and when they do, I’ll be a champion.
It’s the final heat in the competition, only ten of us remain. Four of them have wiped out and are unlikely to recover, and only one of them truly holds a candle to the performance I’m delivering today. He’s phenomenal, but I’m doing better. Iambetter.
He just took a swell, and while he performed decently, I know the next one coming in is going to be a far superior wave. Still hoisting himself back onto his board, he’ll miss the opportunity. It barrels toward me, and I spin, paddling with every ounce ofstrength that remains in me after this endless day, until I’m lifted by the force of nature beneath me.
My gut soars into my chest as I rise above the horizon, popping up as the wave begins to crest. Wind whips across my face, saltwater stuck in my teeth as I smile into the sea. I’m fucking weightless. Dropping in, gliding along the face of a force so ethereal—older than time and wiser than the earth. It soaks into me, embracing me, gifting me its power as I carve against it.
I’m propelled by a connection deeper than the planet itself, driven by the moon, entwining every corner of the world. I believe waves are the very fabric of the universe itself, and fate is created when I float among them. I believe I’ve earned the privilege to harness their fierceness, to carve my destiny from their energy.
I snap my board, shooting up the barrel and launching myself into the air, completing what feels like a flawless three-sixty before landing back down with precision.
It’s Willow’s face that drifts through my mind as I coast over the whitecaps.
I justified my tragic childhood by believing I was destined to find Carter and Penelope—to be discovered by Leo Graham through them. That he held the key to my future, my escape from the past that haunts me.
In the end, I was right the entire time. Like the moon and the tides, it was all connected, but I was never being led to surfing alone. I was being led to her.
Willow is the destiny I earned.
The endless vastness, the easy solace I only ever found out here has been rediscovered in the depths of her gaze.
It’s her face I see as I float over the seafoam, that winning wave dissolving beneath me. Nothing is final until I’m scored by the judges and called up onto that podium, but today was the best performance of my life. I’m a shoo-in to place, if nottake home first. The barrel crashes around me, and I coast back toward the shore. Sinking down on my board, I slap the water as I expel every last nerve from my lungs on a shout before breathing in fresh sea air and pure joy. I finally allow the roar of the crowd to soar through my ears, reveling in the celebration of it all as it sinks into my bones—champion.
Half an hour later, the second and third place surfers stand on the podium as we wait for the judges to announce the champion of the competition—though, we all know it’s going to be me.
I’ve been scanning the crowd for Willow, but there are too many people, and the setting sun is blinding. I spot Liv to the left of the podium when my ears are pierced with the sound of her deafening whistle. Lou stands beside her, throwing me a thumbs-up and a beaming smile. Zander cheers, recording the ceremony on his phone.
Willow isn’t with them.
My face must give away my worry, because Lou mouthsbathroom. Disappointment sluices through me when I realize she’s going to miss me placing first. I sigh, nodding. The competition is televised, there are hundreds of phones and cameras on me now so I know Willow will be able to watch the moment back later. The ceremony moved faster than even I expected, so I’m sure she thought she’d make it back in time.
The announcer declares the first-place champion of the competition, the title followed by my name. Pride surges through me as I climb onto the highest step of the podium. I’m awarded more prize money than I know what to do with—maybe fix up my truck. Since this isn’t an official World Surf League event, I won’t earn any points toward a spot on the Championship Tour, not that it would matter after I was disqualified from the Challenger a few weeks ago and lost those points anyway, but regardless, the win feels validating. I provedit to myself, to Liv and Willow, and when I take this win home, I’ll show Leo too—that I’m worthy of his time and his daughter, that I have a future ahead of me.
Plus, Willow was right. The competition is crawling with sponsors and WSL representatives, and Liv has introductions planned with several of them.
I have something to take back with me, to prove to Leo—the world and myself—that I’m doing the right thing. I’m still destined for this, and I have what it takes to wear a gold medal around my neck someday.
I smile, holding up the oversized check the announcer thrust into my hands as the crowd cheers and lights flash in my face, though my eyes continue scanning the beach for sign of Willow, unease pummeling through me with every passing second I don’t see her face.
I’m ushered off the podium and across the stage for an interview as the crowd slowly begins to disperse when I catch sight of her blond hair in front of the bathroom building about fifty yards in front of me. For a split second, my breath evens out and that apprehension alleviates, until I notice she seems to be having a conversation with a man I don’t recognize.
He’s taller than her but shorter than me, wide shoulders tapered into a slim build, hovering over her with his arms flailing. Like he’s shouting at her. She cowers beneath him, and my blood runs cold. Willow’s folded in on herself, arms crossed at her chest—and I clock the body language immediately. She's becoming smaller, hugging herself in an attempt at preservation from the threat looming above her. She’s afraid, and every instinct in my body bellows at me to reach her.
As I pass where Livia, Lou, and Zander are standing in front of the stage’s corner, I toss the large check to them, murmuring, “I need to go,” to the announcer before leaping off the stage and heading in Willow’s direction.
I walk briskly, navigating away from the crowds without drawing too much attention to myself, eyes locked on my destination. Though, when I watch Willow step back and the man snatches out and grasps her shoulder, pulling her back toward him, my frozen blood catches fire. My vision floods red, and I take off in a fucking sprint.
CHAPTER 35
WILLOW
Iwas so nervous during Weston’s final heat I think I may have drank an entire gallon of water during the twenty-two minutes he was out on the waves. I don’t know what I thought it was going to do to help calm my nerves—it must’ve been something about the lifting of the bottle to my lips and the act of swallowing. Helped my mind focus on something other than him getting injured again.
He surfed flawlessly though. According to Liv, there is no way he won’t place first today.
“How long do you think this is going to take?” I ask Liv, hopping on my heels because I need to pee so goddamn bad, but I don’t want to risk missing Weston’s placement on the podium.
