Lost at Sea |

Prologue

GLENELG BEACH, ADELAIDE, AUS

Drops of water coated the tanned arms of the blonde surfer as he paddled his way deeper into the current. His turquoise eyes squinted while the harsh droplets hit his face like bullets as the rain showered from the sky. The coast an uncharacteristic gray with brown colored sand lining the shore. The surfer knew that these conditions were not ideal for his preferred sport but he couldn't find himself to care.

After tossing and turning what felt like hours during the night, he knew there was only one cure to his anxiety ridden state. After taking one glance at the time, and it reading 4:30 AM, he knew this was the only place he could find peace. The feeling of the water gliding beneath his fingertips felt like a balm being covered over a nasty sunburn. Being in that house sometimes felt like a rope was permanently wrapped around his neck; feeling like it only tightened when he returned. The suffocating sensation becoming so severe to a point that he needed to leave. The feeling had building up for so long, and she must have noticed because there was a subtle change in the way she looked at him. Her gaze that once used to be filled with longing, lust, and desire was now only fueled with insecurity, and anxiety. She kept coming up with excuses to keep him in her house, "oh the shower broke, can you fix it?" or "But I cooked all of this food, and it would be a waste if I threw it all out." Her eyes felt like lazers on his skin, and not in the good, exciting way they used to when the affair first started. He used to find this fire, possessiveness about her exciting, unpredictable.

That's all he wanted out of all of this anyway. Something exciting, and forbidden in his cookie cutter perfect life that seemed to plague him. But as he looked back on it, he realized how ungrateful he had been acting all along. How selfish, and ashamed he felt lying to everyone he cared about all because he was bored. All because her attention was on something else now. The attention she used to rain on him-the admiration she felt for him and how she would drop everything for him in a second.

He missed the blind devotion, the utter neediness and submission she so willingly gave him. He'd tell her to jump, she'd say how high. He'd tell her to do his laundry, he'd come back to a completely reorganized closet with fresh clothes. She was like a dog, following him around for scraps of his attention, and practically kissing the ground he walked on. It was pathetic, but he loved her for it. It was that blind devotion of hers that made him seek it through others like his current bed partner.

He could buy her a cheap, cubic zirconia diamond necklace from the clearance rack and she'd wear the stupid thing until it turned her pretty neck green. All because she was a fool, a beautiful fool that offered herself up so willingly to a man like him because he held the promise of love for her. And he did love her, in his own way that required her to be completely dependent on him. And for awhile that's what it was like between them, until all of her beautiful devotion was directed towards a screaming, pooping, ball of flesh that seemed to be allergic to sleep.

After the ball of flesh reared its ugly head into the world, she began to change. Her eyes that were once glazed over were now filled with fire, life all because she probably believed she held a purpose now. She soon began to forget to drop off his dry cleaning or would ask him to be in charge of his own dinner. She even began to disagree with him on matters, and even talked back to him on occasion. He couldn't take her with this new found confidence, which prompted him to resort to other options. Options like the woman he was currently sleeping with who couldn't seem to let him out of her sight. They of course all paled to her in comparison, which only seemed to anger him more. Even when she defied him at every turn, on a purely superficial level, he couldn't find another woman that measured to her in looks.

All of the guilt he was feeling beforehand had now disappeared as he remembered how she hadn't even bothered to call him in the last twenty four hours. It was a strange situation he found himself in. Having a jealous mistress that practically required his itinerary for the week every time he left and an oblivious fiancée who either trusted him so blindly or didn't care about him enough to wonder why he would come home so late some nights. If she were another anyone else, he would have suspicions that she too was stepping out on their relationship-but if there's one thing he knew about her is that she's the most loyal woman on the planet. Even after her changed behavior, she would never betray him like that. She was just as emotionally attached to him as he was to her-there were no self help books or parenting books that would change that.

Which was precisely why he needed her. He needed that devotion, that blind trustful nature of hers back more than he needed the air in his lungs. It didn't matter how many girls he'd had on their backs this week or how many bartenders sucked him off last weekend-she was the only one he truly needed. There was no one else like her. There was no one else that made him feel more powerful or more cherished. He didn't even count the bitches that practically spread their legs for him after one drink because that's all they're good for. Sex was just a necessity for him like food or water, and the only reason why he had resorted to being with bar skanks is because she was preoccupied with something else at the moment.

But he had come to the conclusion that he would just have to grin and bare it for the next fourteen months or so. By then she probably won't be so worried or obsessed with the brat as she is now. In the meantime, he would just have to deal with one or two bar skanks a week now and only out of town. He had to avoid more stressful trips to the beach to shake off clingy mistresses. No more steady or lengthy affairs with a singular person-he only needed one emotionally attached girlfriend.

The current seemed to be getting harsh which prompted the surfer to paddle towards the shore. He felt the water pulling him further into sea but he fought the harsh grips of the waves and eventually paddled his way back to the sand. He skidded into the sand as he hit shallow water, and pushed himself up to full height. Running a hand through his damp dirty blonde, almost brown hair and hitched his board under his arm. The rain felt like bullets against his wet suit and the pressure so harsh that he has to squint to see in front of him.

All of a sudden, a huge gust of wind picked up and caused sand to swirl around him like a hurricane. The wind nearly pushed him to the ground as he trudged his way back to his car parked further up the beach. He hasn't bothered finding an actual parking lot considering no one else was out at this hour, and he went to great lengths in securing a secluded enough spot to clear his head. He couldn't risk the chance of running into the insistent yammering locals who he practically had to peal off his dick whenever he came in contact with them.

Another whirl of sand scattered wind blasted against him, nearly knocking him to his feet and he fell to a more dignified crouch. Shaking his head in amazement at the ferocity of the weather, and suddenly shivering as splashes of water from the waves began to whip him.

He brought one hand up to shield his eyes, but found this action pointless because he could barely make out the outline of his car anymore. He almost allowed himself to panic until he saw the outline of what looked to be a person appear out of the sandy wind swirls.

He squinted his eyes to try to make the person out but he was unable to identify the person slowly walking towards him. He didn't need to see what they looked like to receive an unwelcome, eerily feeling while his ankles dug into the damp, brown sand clustered with seashells. He had always been known to trust his instincts and right now, the feeling in his gut was telling him to run. That the person who was slowly but surely making his way towards him was there to cause him harm.

Limbs shaky with adrenaline, he used every ounce of energy in his fatigued body to fight against the strong pull of the winds. It was as if he was in the propeller of a plane or fighting against a wind tunnel, he had never experienced anything quite like it. It was especially strange considering the weather hadn't been particularly volatile in the last half hour, mostly just overcast with a few rain showers. However, this felt like he was being stuck in the middle of a hurricane, and he felt hope slowly leaving him as the feet of the intruder were now in his eyeline.

Just as he raised his head to look up at the person, a blunt, sharp object pounded the back of his head. His head landing face first as his body sagged against the damp sand, and his ears began to ring as two sets of hands turned him on to his back. He felt his consciousness weaving, and he instantly recognized the fuzzy images he was seeing as signs of blood loss. He felt tricks of moisture departing from his ears and the back of his head, knowing that they weren't just raindrops.

With the last flicker of energy left in him, he fluttered his eyes opened to get one last look at his attackers only to smirk at the faces staring back at him. Of course, who else couldn't it have been?

And that was his last conscious thought before the darkness overcame him.