Braving the Waves (Cruisin’ With Curves)

4. Marley

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.”

She blinks at me. “Why are you telling me this?”

I realize then that I’m still holding her face, her skin soft under mine. I know I should let go of her, that Apollo and everyone else who was awaiting orders is watching from the crew lounge. I’m going to get in a lot of trouble for this.

“Distraction. I just want you to know that you’re safe.”

Her hazel eyes flash between mine, and then one of her hands comes up to wrap around my wrist. “My name is Marley,” she finally says, her voice shaking.

“Hi,” I say. “Are you alone on the ship? Is there someone I can call to come for you?”

Her chin begins to wobble again, and she sucks in a panicked breath. “No, it’s just me.” I suspected as much, but I don’t want to tell her that.

And then she begins to cry, and I’m not even sure why. What I said to make her react this way. She leans forward, pressing her wet face into my chest, and I don’t even think. I just pull her up into my arms, wrapping an arm around her back and one under her knees to lift her as I stand. She puts a hand up to the back of my neck and lets me carry her through the hallway.

“What room?” I ask as I carry her back down the stairs to the main elevator.

“628.”

In the elevator, I press the button for Deck 6, and listen to her quiet tears as we travel down. On Deck 6, I carry her down the hallway, trying to be as quiet as possible so I don’t wake anyone else who might stick their heads out and end up in the middle of our business.

But when we’re standing in front of her door, I have to whisper to her, “I need your key.”

Her crying has gone quiet, and she tilts her chin up, her wet eyes finding mine. I hate that the thought crosses my mind, but all I can think about is how pretty she is with her eyes all big and tear stains on her cheeks, her wet hair framing her face. My eyes fall to her pink mouth, thinking things I definitely shouldn’t be thinking about someone who most likely just had a panic attack.

“You can put me down,” she says quietly.

I don’t want to put her down, but I also don’t want to hold her against her will, so I set her feet on the floor and watch as she turns to the door and uses her key card to unlock it.

With the door cracked, she looks at me over her shoulder. She won’t quite meet my eye, but she directs her comment toward me when she says, “Thank you, Isaac.”

I’m not ready for her to leave. I don’t even know why. I just…want to make sure she’s okay.

But instead, she steps into her room, turns, and gives me a small smile before closing the door.