Too Deep - TEASER

Imprinted

I looked back at where the man was and there was nothing. Not even a stirring in the water from him leaving. I brushed my hand over the surface, like trying to wipe a foggy window clean. Attempting to see further down.

But there was only darkness.

I'd somehow ended up over the deeper part of Castaway Cove.

"Erin!" Ashley was saying again.

I gave her a numb look.

"You sat up on your board, all weird, then I was calling you and calling you and you never answered." She caught my arm to twist me to look at her.

"Are you okay?"

I blinked dully at her.

Still feeling a bit nauseous from the swaying of the water.

And that powerful touch.

I shook my head in confusion. "I...I..."

She frowned at me. Waiting patiently.

"Couldn't..." I finished.

"Let's get back." She was nearly pulling me off her board, in her worry,

I nodded dumbly.

We averted the boards and swam back to the shallows. But I'd have sworn I could still see that shape hovering below me.

Echoing my movements.

***

That night I was haunted. I flung myself onto my side. Swiping the sweat from my forehead.

"You're mine..." That haunting voice. And the way he'd said it.

It was more of a threat.

I'd felt terrified and somehow so intrigued I was immobilized.

It had been the scariest thing I'd ever known.

You'll know...Soon enough...

He'd said it so slowly. Purposefully.

I didn't imagine him.

For a while after I'd gotten home, I thought I had. Wandering my small cottage on the sandy beach, I considered it.

Ashley had been sure I did. She figured I'd seen a shark and it had scared me so bad, I was addled out of my mind.

But I wasn't.

And I don't think she really believed that either.

She'd sputtered, trying to come up with explanations.

And we both knew that between us, I was always the calmer one.

Cool and collected.

Or a cold-hearted bitch.

That's what several ex-boyfriends had told me.

Cold hearted or black hearted.

But it didn't faze me much. I knew I wasn't.

But I certainly wasn't one to panic because I'd thought I'd seen a shark.

I'd seen them before, alerted Ashley, and we'd paddled further to the shallows.

Though the sharks didn't generally bother us, we knew an attack was always possible.

After Ashley had left, I'd gone and closed the curtains to all my long windows, locked them and my doors.

But every time a light went out. I heard it playing in my mind again.

You're mine.

I could nearly see his face silhouetted in the shadows. Shivering, I dismissed it. Walking on toward my room.

Then I laid down.

And every time I closed my eyes, it was the same. Visions of the man.

His strange black hair, reddened from the sun in spots along the top. Broad shouldered and flat chested, with a lean form. His face was squared, with hard features.

But undeniably attractive.

Every time I closed my eyes, I envisioned a different part of him.

The shape of his shoulders, the color of one of those unique eyes, surrounded by sooty black lashes. Staring at me as though looking through me.

Cold and flat.

Like a shark's might be right before it opened its jaws to consume you.

Pure predator.

It was like a nightmare I couldn't completely escape.

When I peeled my eyes open, I could see his shadow before my window.

"Who are you?" I found myself asking again. Wondering if he would crawl into my bed. Finding my legs already parting and my body dampening as I readied for him.

I tried to move to close them, but they wouldn't.

I felt pressure over the bed and a hard, warm body sliding over mine. With gray skin like the smooth chill of a seal's.

This isn't right.

It's a nightmare.

But I couldn't distinguish between nightmares and reality anymore.

By morning I was exhausted and thoroughly confused.

I needed to go to work. But I still felt dizzy, and my arm hurt.

When I opened the curtains to see, I found that there was a purplish-blue spot on my arm. Like an embedded bruise.

I put my own hand over it to check the size. Confirming that the shape of it was far larger than mine. I gasped and stumbled backward so fast, I tripped over a lampshade on a low side table. Sending me careening onto the floor.

I rolled to my feet and quickly plucked clothes from my closet. Tossing them over my head and scurrying out my front door. Barely remembering to grab my keys and lock the front door before I left.

I hurried to my red SUV and hopped in. Driving straight to the doctor's office.

I knew what this was.

His touch.

But I needed a doctor to tell me what I was seeing.

It's the only proof I have.

And it mattered to me that Ashley knew I hadn't made it up.

Though she seemed to suspect that, she couldn't believe the tale I was telling.

Which is fine because now I can prove it.

***

Doc Hannigan was entirely baffled.

She lifted my arm for what had to be the seventh time and peered at it over her thing glasses. "How did you say you got this."

Huffing, I explained it again.

"You do know how crazy that sounds?"

"I'm not crazy, Doc."

She pursed her lips sideways and touched the spot which was now beginning to rise. I hissed between my teeth at the instant burning sensation.

"No doubt it's a handprint." She shook her head bemusedly. "But it's not a bruise. This is the kind of injury I'd say came from a dry ice burn."

"He was cold."

"So cold his touch burned?" She asked askance.