BRAVING THE WAVES

  B. RANDALL

  Copyright © 2024 by B. Randall

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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  32 Unread Messages

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  This story deals with the death of a parent and also depicts a panic attack. Please proceed with caution.

  CONTENTS

  1. Marley

  2. Isaac

  3. Isaac

  4. Marley

  5. Isaac

  6. Marley

  7. Isaac

  8. Marley

  9. Marley

  Epilogue

  Thank You For Reading!

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Also by B. Randall

  CHAPTER ONE

  MARLEY

  “Swim, Marley! I’m coming! I’m coming! Swim!”

  I tuck my hands in as close to my body as I can get them and take a deep breath, turning on my heel and pacing back the way I came. There’s a good fifteen feet between me and the side of the ship, and part of me would really like to keep it that way, but the other part of me knows that I can’t spread these ashes if I don’t get close enough to tip the wooden box over.

  I turn and pace back again.

  “Foul! There’s no way! You can’t just fucking elbow me in the solar plexus, fuckhead,” someone shouts in an Australian accent.

  My gaze shoots to the late-night basketball game going on nearby. There are four guys, all of them in loose-fitting shorts and t-shirts with little pockets, getting back into some kind of formation on the deck’s basketball court. One of them glances over at me and then says, loud enough for me to hear him, though I don’t know if he knows that, “Hey, there’s a lady over there. Maybe cool it with the ‘fuckheads.’”

  I bite back a smile, my fists loosening a little bit. We hit a wave, the sound of the water sloshing into the side of the ship enough to make panic spike in my chest again. I slam my eyes closed and shake my head.

  “You’re miles from that water,” I whisper to myself. “If it was that easy to fall off the side of a cruise ship, the mortality rate would be astronomical and the whole operation would get shut down.”

  I take a deep breath, open my eyes, and inch toward the side. The sound of the basketball hitting the deck with a bonk bonk bonk is oddly comforting. I peer over the side of the ship, down at the tumultuous water. Late at night like this, it looks like an endless black void, ready to swallow me whole.

  “Is there, uh, something I can help you with?”

  I scream, jerking back from the railing and dropping my mother’s box in the process. The lid flies open and ashes spill out onto the deck, particles immediately getting lost in between the cracks of the floorboard.

  “No!” I drop to my knees and scoop the ashes back into the carved wooden box, slamming and clasping the lid.

  I’m holding the lid shut with both hands, like the ashes are going to burst out of it, and try to steady my breaths. When I look up, I realize all the guys on the basketball court are staring at me. There are only three of them now.

  I turn my head and see the pair of sneakers beside me. My gaze crawls upward, scanning two hairy, muscular legs, a pair of blue shorts, a gray t-shirt, and finally, a man’s face. The same one who told the other guy to maybe not cuss so blatantly.

  I can’t decipher the expression on his face. “Are you okay?” he asks, in an accent I can’t quite make out. French, maybe?

  Even with the splash of the water churning behind the ship and the high-pitched whistle of the wind, it’s almost silent as I contemplate how to answer. No, I am definitely not okay. I am trying to spread my mother’s ashes over the ocean like she wanted, while also being terrified of that ocean.

  “I’m fine,” I tell him, standing and tucking my mother’s ashes under my arm. His eyes follow the movement. Now that he knows what’s in the box, I’m sure I look like a mad woman.

  “Isaac!”

  We both turn to look at the men on the basketball court, one of them throwing his hands up like we’re causing a traffic jam or something.

  Beside me, Isaac (I’m assuming) ignores them and says, “You shouldn’t hang around the deck in the middle of the night,” he says. “It’s not safe.”

  I almost want to laugh. I’ve spent days, weeks, my whole life, contemplating the potential safety concerns of the water beneath this ship, the Infinity Voyager, an adults-only cruise ship that my mother never got the chance to try out, but it never once occurred to me to be wary of its passengers, which is why I’m out here in the middle of the night. I figured the staff that was still up would be busy with other duties and that any passengers still awake would probably be drunk and not paying attention to some random woman trying to gather her courage to spread some ashes.

  I’ve been up here for almost an hour, trying to convince myself to put my arm out over the water, and in all that time, not a soul has come along.

  And now, here’s this guy.

  He confidently holds my gaze.

  “Isaac, man, come on!” someone calls.

  “Thanks for your help,” I tell him, mostly sincerely, wrapping my arms around the box and rushing away, feeling the eyes of all the men on me as I go.

  CHAPTER TWO

  ISAAC

  “What the hell was all that about?” Luke asks, tossing the ball to me.

  I duck the other guy on his team before taking the ball to the hoop. I was hesitant about asking Luke to join the basketball game, but since Ashley decided to take some time off and go back to school, we’ve been one player short, and Apollo decided he wanted to invite Luke, a guy I don’t know super well. But now, I kind of wish he would butt out.

  “Nothing,” I tell him, passing the ball to Apollo. “I was just making sure she was okay is all. She’s out alone at night.”

  Luke snorts. “Yeah, she is. Bet she was out looking for a hookup.”

  I think of the way her hand trembled as she held that box out over the water.

  I should have asked for her name. We've only been on the water for a day, less than twenty-four hours, and if she’s shaking like that now, I’m worried what will happen to her over the course of the next four days. Maybe a day on the beach will do her some good, a chance to say goodbye to whoever’s ashes are in that box.

  Luke gets the ball and tucks it under his arm, stopping the game and turning to me. “Tell me the truth,” he says with a gleam in his eye. The wind sweeps his hair across his forehead. The wind on the deck at night is always brutal. “Have you ever fucked one of the passengers?” If anyone else had asked me this question, I might have thought it was funny, but there’s something about this guy that’s making me want to sock him in the mouth.

  Before I can answer, Apollo speaks for me. “Isaac is a rule follower. He would never sleep with a guest.”

  Luke rolls his eyes. “Come on, that’s boring. Have you seen the bikinis that some of these women are wearing around the pool? Plus, I’m pretty sure someone was getting a handjob in the hot tub earlier. What about swingers? You guys ever run into one of those swinger parties?”

  I’ve seen pretty much everything happen on this ship in the few years I’ve been working for the cruise line. I’ve seen more naked people in places where they weren’t supposed to be naked than I would care to admit. I’ve never turned anybody in. And I’ve certainly never slept with anyone. I would get fired in a heartbeat if anyone found out, and beyond that, there are always gorgeous women on the crew, so why would I bother putting my job at risk when there are always people who want to hook-up?

  I throw the ball at Luke. “Can we just play, please?”

  CHAPTER THREE

  ISAAC

  “Blue Team, you’re not looking so hot! Twist! Twist!”

  I watch the family of four on the Twister mat in front of me contort to reach the colors they’re supposed to. They’re getting dominated by the Red Team, probably because the Red Team appears to be two couples who don’t mind getting intimate with each other. They’re all twisted around each other in a way that’s almost obscene. I can only imagine that this game is acting as foreplay for them, while the blue team is apparently a married couple with their two adult children.

  “Alright, right hand on yellow!” As the words leave my mouth, my eyes glance up at the people passing by the activity area. When I first started on the ship, it bothered me when people would gawk as they went by. But now I know that they’re just looking because something is happening, not because they actually care. Sometimes the older folks get bored and stay to watch, but usually, it’s just people passing through on their way out to the deck.

  And among the sea of faces, I spot her. It’s like her brightness is at a higher magnitude than everyone else. She has her hair pulled back today, and I watch her flitter over to the bar by the window and lean across it to request something from the bartender.

  We’ve been on this ship for two days now, and I’ve seen her everywhere. In the dining hall, walking through the casino, sitting in the library.

  Never out on the deck.

  It’s like she’s scared of the sun or something. She’s all alone. I’ll admit, I didn’t see that one coming. I just assumed she had a whole crowd of other equally

pretty friends that she came with. Or, I don’t know, a snarky boyfriend. But that pretty girl with the box of ashes is sitting at the bar by herself, seemingly waiting for no one.

  “Left foot on blue!” I say, and her eyes pop over to me, like she didn’t see me before. Like she recognized my voice.

  Her eyes linger on me, and mine linger on hers. She’s very beautiful, wearing a white tank top and a flowing blue skirt. She looks like someone who likes to hold hands while they stroll down the beach.

  Someone on the blue team collapses, taking the whole group down with them, and my gaze is torn from the woman’s.

  “Red Team wins!” I proclaim, perhaps a little less enthusiastic than usual as I try to find the woman again in the crowd. But the bar is empty, and she’s gone.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  MARLEY

  I don’t even know when I fell asleep. I was reading on the deck late at night, as far from the water as I could get, up by the spa where things are a little more quiet and the sounds of the steel drums can’t really be heard.

  And then I’m being awakened by water.

  I gasp and sit up on my chair. I’m disoriented for a moment, trying to remember where I am and how I got here. It’s raining. Pouring. And all the chairs around me are empty. The corner I’m in is dark, shadowed by the overhang of the deck above me, which should have been enough to protect me from a light rain. But this is not a light rain. The wind is blowing so hard that the rain is falling sideways, and everything is soaked.

  I push my hair out of my face and grab my book, soggy with water. I stand, but the ship lurches, and I slip on the wet floor, knocking into an umbrella stand that I grab with both hands. The ship is swaying so hard in the storm that I can see the moon tilting up and down in a heavy rhythm.

  We go down again and water sloshes onto the deck. Panic begins to well up in me, and I can hear my own breath in my head, sawing in and out of me. I look up at the door to the spa. It’s just a short walk and a few steps up to it, but when I let go of the umbrella stand, I can’t find my balance and I almost topple again.

  I drop to my hands and knees, sucking in breaths as the storm rages around me. How did this happen? How was I somehow left out here when everyone else seemed to be inside?

  The back of the ship dips again, and when water rushes over my hands, I start to crawl. I have to get inside. If we’re dipping low enough for water to get in, does that mean I could somehow get sucked right back out?

  I crawl the few feet to the stairs and slowly climb them. I feel like the world is going to tip upside down. That I’m going to lose my grip and be swept out to sea, never to be heard from again.

  The door to the spa is an automatic door, and when I’m close enough, I stand, in case the sensor won’t be tripped by someone on their hands and knees, but the door doesn’t open. Even when I wave my arms wildly and bang on the door, it doesn’t open. It’s just a vestibule, with doors on either side, but I guess no one can hear me because nobody comes.

  I’m locked out here. I press my back to the wall beside the door and slide down, pushing myself as tightly into the corner as I can so that I don’t slip right off the steps.

  I focus on my breathing, but it isn’t long before I’m crying instead of breathing, my eyes squeezed shut and my heart thumping in my ears. I never should have come out here. I stayed inside all day. I should have just left it that way. And now I can’t take it back.

  “It’s a bad one out there,” Apollo says, and I look at the screen that shows the front of the ship. I watch the nose dip and then slam back up into the air. I don’t get motion sick very easily, but the ship is swaying so hard that even I’m getting a little queasy. “I’ve never seen it this bad.”

  “Me neither,” I tell him. We’re holed up in the crew lounge. Most of the staff is working, trying to make sure doors to the deck are locked and that no damage is happening. As soon as we sail out of the storm, we’ll all be cleaning up water and dragging carpets and towels down to the laundry. But for now, all the activity crew are just watching it happen. Nothing we can do right now.

  The TV in front of us is cycling through the security cameras. There aren’t many on the deck, but a lot of them are pointed at hallways with big windows and doors that lead out onto the busiest parts of the deck. We can see the water thrashing the ship. It’s insane.

  Apollo shrugs. “It’s just that time of year. Remember last year, when the whole fucking pool spilled out?”

  I remember alright. I can only imagine the same thing will happen tonight. Luckily, it’s late enough that most of the passengers were already asleep. The ones left in the bars were asked to go back to their rooms so they didn’t accidentally get pummeled by anything that might go sliding around.

  I stare mindlessly at the TV. The screen displays the Stellar Sky Lounge and the Opulent Oasis Martini Bar. There are mainly cameras in places where people might get rowdy…and they do.

  The view changes and it takes me a second to realize what I’m seeing. It’s the hallway that leads from the gym to the spa. At the end of the hall is the automatic door that leads out to the deck.

  There’s someone on the other side of the glass. The only thing that gives away the fact that the shadowed ball in the far corner of the screen is a person is the hair, long dark hair plastered to the wet glass.

  The person shifts, and I see her face. The woman from the deck, the one with the ashes.

  She’s curled up against the glass, being pelted by rain and sea water. The screen shifts again, showing me the bow of the ship as it dips.

  I don’t hesitate. I shove my way out of the room, running for the elevator at the end of the hall. The spa is far. It’s on the very top level, on the other side of the ship, but I know I can get there quickly. The halls will be empty.

  My heart pounds as I wait for the elevator to take me up, up, up. When it goes up as far as it will and the doors open, I make a run for it. I have to cross the ship and then take the special stairs up to the spa. Good thing I’m athletically inclined.

  I’m almost to the stairs when I realize I should have just called security. They could have gotten to her quicker. But I would have gone anyway. I would have wanted to get to her anyway.

  I slam into the hallway to the spa and see her on the other side of the glass. Still curled up. Still not moving.

  I use my key to unlock the automatic door, which would have been turned off as soon as the storm started. I pry the door open and bend quickly to catch the woman when she collapses into the hallway.

  “Jesus,” I say. She’s trembling so hard her teeth are shattering. I wrap my arms around her and pull her the rest of the way into the hallway so that I can slam the door shut. The sound of the storm fades into the distance, leaving just the sound of her breath puffing in and out of her mouth.

  “Hey,” I say, helping her sit up against the wall and taking her face in my hands. She’s still in the tank top and skirt I saw her in this morning, now soaked all the way through. Her hair is dripping down her face and over my hands, the water going cold now that we’re inside where it’s air conditioned. “Look at me.”

  Her eyes are closed, her lips trembling.

  “Look at me.”

  Her eyes pop open at the harshness in my voice. I’m trying to be gentle with her but I know I won’t be able to get her to calm down if she’s got her eyes closed, if she’s stuck in her own world where she thinks she might die. I know that feeling, and I need to pull her out of it.

  Her hazel eyes find mine, and the shaking in her limbs begins to settle a bit. Her eyes shift back and forth between mine, and I see the moment the fog lifts and she realizes who I am.

  “What’s your name?”

  “You work here,” are the first three words out of her mouth. She ignores my question.

  “I do, yes.” Her breathing has slowed, but there’s still a tremor in her body. “I’m Isaac,” I tell her. “I’m from Monaco. I’m twenty-four, and I’ve been working for the cruise line since I was eighteen.”

 

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