MAY 16

MAUD

It was pathetic, but I'd rehearsed this moment countless times.

I'd recite my lines in front of a bathroom mirror, sobbed them on the shower floor, and felt them tickle my eyelids at night. They were an incantation of strength that I believed to be invincible. Facing Dakota Black was simply mind over matter.

But the moment I saw him parting the crowd like Moses in the Red Sea, I knew that I'd been wrong to believe that. It wasn't because I was nervous or enamored by his curly dark hair. It had nothing to do with him and everything to do with me. 

I guess you couldn't choose what feelings stayed and which faded away. The cameras were rolling, and I knew my lines, but I had never been someone who took pleasure in following a script.

"Hey," Dakota greeted, the corners of his mouth lifting in an almost-smile.

"Hi," I said, my composure threatening to shatter like a thin layer of ice on a pond. "You're here."

Of course he was here, I scolded myself. 

"Yeah." His cognac eyes abandoned me for Nicki, and my heart jumped into my throat. "Great to see you, man."

Nicki didn't miss a beat. "Seems like Hollywood treated you well."

"Most days," Dakota grinned.

As if on cue, they performed that odd yet classic handshake showcasing male comradery. Were boys only immature when it involves navigating their romantic relationships?

"Are you playing the game?" I asked Dakota, my ego prompting one of my eyebrows to lift.

"There's no reason for me not to."

I failed to react for a moment, stunned into silence by his nonchalance; I wondered if he'd rehearsed his lines for this moment as well. Maybe I was acting irrational, but how else was I supposed to process his indifference? There was a small yet noisy part of my brain that screamed that there was no way he'd moved on. There was no way he'd turned his back on our shipwreck of a romance.

But for better or for worse, my assessment proved to be a self-centered lie because Dakota could walk away. I was watching him walk away right now. Once he rejoined a tall and beautiful girl who I recognized as the actress Brenna Quinn, they sat down in the seats near Allix and Syd.

"You okay?" Nicki asked, his voice sucking me out of my trace.

"Yep," I nodded. "Perfectly okay."

The infamous circle of chairs included twenty seats. Choosing the players involved in the first game of truth or dare was always selective. I glanced around the circle and deduced that while it wasn't just the cool kids of Friday Island at the party tonight, only the cool kids who would be allowed to play. Lions always outranked hyenas.

Hadley waved us over, and when Nicki and I assumed our rightful seats, the game commenced.

"Let's review the three standard rules," Bryce said, lounging back in his red chair. "Number one, you need to obtain consent. I don't give a shit if you're friends or fucking. You either get consent or get your ass kicked."

"Number two," Syd said with an uncharacteristic edge to his voice. "No pictures or videos. This is a small island, and snitches can't hide forever."

I shifted in my seat, knowing that Syd was aiming to protect Brenna and Dakota from scrutiny. Besides, we were all under the legal drinking and smoking age. No one wanted their inebriated behavior to come back and haunt them. 

Bryce scanned the circle, his blue eyes bright in the orange glow of the fire.

"And last but not least, failing to complete your challenge results in expulsion from the game. So, if you're having second thoughts, now is the time to bail."

No one moved. Everyone seemed to collectively inhale in anticipation of what was to come.

The first few rounds of the game were harmless. I didn't start paying attention until Syd took full advantage of Bryce selecting truth.

"Did you yak in the alpacas' enclosure on New Year's Eve?" Syd asked.

Bryce held up his hands in mock defense. "Guilty."

Syd laughed, shaking his head. "I knew it."

I managed a smile. Syd had harbored that conspiracy ever since his party on New Year's Eve, but he wasn't the confrontational type. He liked being the diplomat and the mediator. He was good at it, too.

Bryce's gaze coasted around the circle a few times settling on Brenna. "Truth or dare, Miss Brenna Quinn?"

I was borderline annoyed when the actress smiled. I wanted to cringe at my pettiness, knowing that judging her was colossally unfair, but I couldn't help it. When I was sober, I could feel bad about it and blame my nerves.

"Dare," Brenna said, twirling a lock of her glossy brown hair around one finger.

Bryce smirked, scrolling through his phone as he searched for a dare worthy of a celebrity. "Imitate your favorite sex position with someone you think is attractive."

If Brenna was startled by Bryce's dare, she didn't show it. I gritted my teeth as she glanced around the circle as though she actually had to think about who she was going to pick. It was going to be Dakota. He was the obvious candidate, and I suddenly couldn't bring myself to look in his general direction.

"What do you say, Syd?" Brenna challenged. "Ready to put on a show?"

I was struck by the sudden urge to scoop up a handful of sand and throw it in the actress's eyes. I decided that even when I sobered up, I would be more than borderline annoyed with her, and I wouldn't feel bad about it.

Syd cleared his throat and bolted upright, making it clear that he hadn't seen this coming.

"Uh...yeah," he blabbered, standing up. "It's showtime, I guess."

The smug grin plastered on Brenna's face was hard to miss. She took Syd by the hand and led him over to an open area of sand.The fire created an orange spotlight for their makeshift stage.

Brenna lowered herself to the ground. Her feet were hip-distance apart, and her arms were behind her back with fingers facing her hips. When she lifted her hips off the ground, I recognized the position. It was inspired by the crab walk and was actually quite the workout.

"Alright Sydney," Brenna said, looking up at him. She looked stunning even while performing the crab-walk. "Whenever you're ready, just slide between my legs, so that you're facing me."

"Fucking hell," Syd muttered and obeyed Brenna's command.

My second-hand embarrassment prevented me from looking at them any longer. Across the circle, Dakota shook his head as he laughed, while Allix sank lower in her chair with a look of vague disinterest on her features. I wished she'd sat with Nicki and me instead.

"I found this one on Cosmopolitan," Brenna announced. "They called it the apex."

"Clever," Dakota said, and his lopsided grin made my heart somersault. I distracted myself by tracing small circles on the back of Nicki's hand.

When they finally completed their stunt, they received a wild round of applause. I dug my nails into my palms as Brenna took Syd by the hand and sunk into a dramatic bow.

Before returning to her seat, Brenna swiped Bryce's phone to review her options.

"Alright," Brenna eventually said and gave a breathy sigh. Her eyes cut to me. "Maud, I confess, I've heard a great deal about you. So, truth or dare?"

I'd seen it coming. I'd seen it coming from the moment I sat down inside the damn circle, and yet my heart still plummeted into my stomach.

I lifted my chin. "Truth."

Brenna's eyes flicked down to the phone in her hand and she smirked. "If you still have it, read the last text you sent to your ex."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Allix set a bony hand on Dakota's knee. It seemed like a simple warning: don't intervene.

I exhaled a shaky breath and retrieved my phone. Of course, I still had my old text messages with Dakota. Deleting them felt wrong, and I didn't care if that made me a sentimental fool.

I was painstakingly aware of the eyes of everyone inside the circle drilling into me, but the pressure wouldn't force me to my knees. I'd swallow my ego to preserve my pride. 

I cleared my throat and looked directly at Dakota before I read the text out loud. "It doesn't matter that I still love you if I'm better off without you."

Nicki tensed beside me, but I couldn't bring myself to look away from Dakota. His jaw was wired shut, and his eyes were void of emotion. He'd mastered the art of cool indifference.

"I'm skipping my turn," I announced, turning to stare into the flames. "That's not violating any of our precious rules, so someone else can just go."

"No worries," Rowena chirped and turned to Bryce. "Truth or dare?"

"Dare." Byrce gave his phone to Rowena.

It took Rowena less than ten seconds to select one, and she looked at Bryce with a devious grin playing on her lips. "Pick two people to go skinny dipping."

Bryce's response came almost immediately. "Dakota and Maud."

An invisible hand slapped me straight across the face. In the distance, I could hear the sound of the waves kissing the shore. It was like they were calling out to me, but I couldn't decide if it was an invitation or a warning.

"Rowena," Allix scolded. The disapproval in her voice sent a current of electricity around the circle, causing everyone to startle. Only the people closest to Allix had witnessed her lose her composure.

"It's just a dumb game, Allix," Rowena said, but the confidence in her voice waivered. She had to know that her sister would ream her out later, but that didn't make me feel any better.

I didn't want to be the reason why the McGovern sisters were fighting. My pride wasn't worth the fight.

"It's fine," I heard myself say and looked at Dakota as I stood up. "Let's go, babe."

It was Dakota's turn to be struck by the invisible hand. He raked a hand through his hair and exhaled an audible sigh.

When he stood up, he gestured out towards the sea. "After you, Mimi."

Hearing that nickname made my heart pound hard and loud inside of my chest. I considered it a small miracle that no one else could hear it. As Dakota and I left the circle, I threw Nicki an apologetic look. His response was a simple shrug.

We didn't speak, not even when the waves rushed up to greet us. I kept my eyes trained on the waves as I pulled down my jeans and yanked my sweater over my head. Now that I stood only in my lacy undergarments, the cold breeze nipped at my skin and I shivered. May in Washington was still pretty damn chilly.

I folded my arms over my chest and turned to face Dakota. Disappointment bloomed inside me when I saw that he was still completely dressed. I wanted to get this over with immediately.

"Any day now, Dakota."

He hesitated, his fingers lingering on the bottom hem of his black henley, before he expelled a hard breath and removed it. Even though his taut abs and tan skin weren't unfamiliar, I wasn't inclined to avert my gaze. Thankfully, the sane part of my brain kicked in, and I looked away before he could notice me staring.

"You don't ever have to hide from me," I teased with a grin. 

"You're killing me," Dakota muttered, tossing the rest of his clothes into the sand and shot me a glare as he marched into the water wearing his black boxers.

I resigned myself to my fate and followed him.

The cold water stung my skin like a thousand little needles as I waded in up to my chest. I inhaled a deep breath and dropped beneath the surface to swim out more before popping back up. After blinking the water out of my eyes, I spotted Dakota treading water a short distance away from me. With his dark hair slicked back and eyes bright in the starlight, he was exceedingly handsome. That was never something that was up for debate, though.

I expelled a sigh and adjusted to float on my back. As I looked up at the stars, that damn Coldplay song started to play inside my head.

"Ouch," I muttered.

"Did your bravado just wear off?" Dakota asked.

"Nope." I momentarily pressed my eyes shut, desperate to escape the melodrama. "I'm thinking about how terribly cliché it was for us to choose Yellow as our song."

He scoffed. "You chose Yellow, but we were juniors in high school. It makes sense."

"Listen, it's a great song," I defended. "I just hate that whenever I look at the stars, it gets stuck in my head, and I'm forced to think about you."

I cringed the second the words were out of my mouth. I wouldn't have said that if I was sober or even a tad less intoxicated. Liquid courage was not on my team tonight.

"Wow, I'm flattered," Dakota said with a fair amount of sarcasm. "The infinite explosions of balls of gas in the universe remind you of me. There really must be beauty in the insignificant."

"Stars remind me of the Coldplay song, not you," I insisted, and started treading water.

"Keep telling yourself that."

"Give it up, Dakota!" I snapped, splashing him. "It's over. We're done."

"Since January. I'm aware, Mimi."

"Great, so just stop."

I knew I wasn't making much sense, so I started swimming back to the beach. When my feet brushed against the soft sandy floor, I stomped out of the water. The cold air knocked the oxygen out of my lungs, and my head was swimming with stupid drunk thoughts as I changed back into my clothes. Having to wear jeans while dripping wet wasn't the move, but that was the least of my concerns at the moment. I was more than ready to go home.

"Am I supposed to apologize?" Dakota asked as he pulled his pants over his boxers, and a loose curl fell in front of his eyes. "Because even if I did, I still probably wouldn't be as sorry as you think I should be."

Irritation struck a match inside my chest. "I don't want an apology! I never did!"

His eyes met mine and seemed to search for something. "Then what do you want from me?"

"Nothing," I declared, detecting the exasperation in my voice. "There's absolutely nothing that I want from you, so stop acting as if you owe me something because you don't."

And that was the truth.

I didn't regret submitting Dakota's film. I didn't regret that because his film won, fame swept him away from Friday Island and away from me. I didn't regret that he was now a celebrity who had only returned home to produce a show with a crew of snobby Hollywood hotshots.

It wasn't surprising that seemingly modest celebrities were popular. People appreciated they appeared to be immune to their fame, lived less extravagantly, and were infinitely grateful for the privileged life they lived. But here was the thing: modest celebrities weren't without ambition. Regardless of the industry, it was a dog fight to get to the top. You needed to be unrepentant and selfish. Those qualities weren't overwhelmingly prevalent in the young man standing in front of me. Dakota had needed someone to shove him into the spotlight, and that someone was me.

The air was suddenly thick, and it felt like my lungs were filling up with water. There was a solid chance that it was actually the tears I couldn't bring myself to cry. A heavy silence fell between us, and the waves rushed in to fill it. Dakota's attention strayed back up to the bonfire. The game had probably continued without us, but I couldn't care less.

When he looked back at me, he ran a hand along his jaw and down the back of his neck. "You made me think that I wasn't the person I know I am. That's the part that I can't put behind me."

His words were measured and clear, giving me the impression that he'd wanted to say that for a long time. Perhaps, this was what he'd rehearsed.

I swallowed the emotion building in my throat. "I'm sorry."

"I don't want an apology," he said, echoing my earlier statement.

"Okay," I sighed out. "So, what's new with you?"

Dakota snorted. "Aside from having just gone skinny dipping with my ex-girlfriend, I'm pretty damn fine."

As I slipped on my sandals, I contemplated if now was the ideal time to sue for peace. Being on decent terms would hopefully prevent future awkwardness as tonight was definitely not the last time we would see each other this summer. Just as I was about to dive into my reasoning for why this was in our best interest, something on the far side of the beach hijacked my attention.

Cape Blue's cove was in the shape of a half-moon, but one edge gave way to a narrow stretch of beach that hid in the shadows of tall pine trees on the cliffside. That part of the beach was out of sight from the bonfire, making it a convenient spot to smoke or hook up. However, from where we stood at the edge of the water, that part of the beach was visible.

As I squinted into the darkness, I could make out something that was large and motionless laying in the sand. My breath caught in my throat, and before I could entertain a complete thought, my brain was telling my body to move.

"Maud," Dakota called out, jogging to catch up to me. "Where the hell are you going?"

"Stop talking," I instructed. We were getting closer now, maybe fifty yards away.

"Ah, yes. I'm relieved to see that our communication skills are still perfectly-"

I clamped a hand over his mouth. "I'm serious, Dakota. Stop talking."

Dakota's brows pulled together in a moment of frustration, but then I watched his eyes widen as he noticed what held my attention. I pulled my hand back, and we both crept forward until we were standing right where we needed to be.

I saw the blood first. It stained the sand with rivers of crimson that gleamed in the pale moonlight.

I blinked once, twice, three times, hoping that maybe my eyes were playing a cruel trick on me, but the unmistakable black and white markings of the creature were enough to prove otherwise.

"It's an orca," I murmured and somehow choked down a half-formed scream. I felt it claw its way back down my throat.

Dakota appeared in front of me and placed his hands on my shoulders. "Maud, look at me. Just look at me, okay?"

I hated how infuriatingly steady his voice was, but it still drew me back in. When I found his eyes, I placed my hands on top of his. I couldn't recall the moment they'd started to shake.

I was acting so stupidly human.

"The orca is dead, isn't it?" My gaze traveled over Dakota's shoulder, my eyes burning. "It's dead, and there's blood. There's so much blood."

I forced myself to examine the details, to pretend that I was an objective field biologist or naturalist.

What would David Attenborough do?

There appeared to be multiple puncture wounds, large and circular in diameter that were beneath the orca's dorsal fin. The sheer volume of blood seeping from the wounds informed me that they were deep enough to be the cause of death. The wounds were also what informed me that this was not a natural death.

We were standing in the middle of a crime scene.

"Those must be from a harpoon," I said, thinking out loud, and Dakota went rigid. "It's powerful enough to be fatal."

"An orca washed up on the beach," Dakota muttered, taking a few steps away from me. His wild eyes sent a wave of dread washing over me. He could've been making an observation, but his entire demeanor had shifted.

"Dakota, what-"

"I'm calling Allix," he interrupted, pulling his phone out of his back pocket with a trembling hand. "She needs to make everyone leave before something bad happens."

My eyebrows skyrocketed, and I pointed over at the orca. "Something bad has already happened!"

There might as well be a giant neon arrow pointing at the orca, screaming for attention.

Dead. Dead. Dead.

I was mad. I was breathing hard now, trying to calm my erratic heartbeat, but I was so unbelievably mad. Someone had killed the orca. I didn't know enough to decide if that was poaching, but it had to have been intentional. Someone did this on purpose.

The thought was like a python coiling around my brain and suffocating me. Was this how my parents felt? Was this why they were willing to surrender their lives for a cause that rarely made the headlines?

"Allix," Dakota said, turning his back on me. "Hey, I need you to work your magic and get everyone to leave."

I could almost hear Allix's indignant voice through the speaker, but the blood thundering in my ears was nearly deafening.

Last night when I'd returned from hanging out with Allix, I'd met Conrad Kane. I wasn't supposed to have met him, but he was standing in my kitchen with Grandfather and Albert. He was inquiring about the history of poaching in the Pacifc Northwest and the history of the captivity of orcas. It was for Apex and for what I assumed had to be some graphic scene he'd whipped up. He'd wanted to know how to make it real.

A big wave broke on the shoreline as a terrifying suspicion crashed into me. Correlation did not always equal causation, but I couldn't immediately dismiss the thought. Suspicion itself was like a weed, one that I knew could easily consume me.

"I need you," Dakota said, and it took me half a second to realize he wasn't talking to me. He didn't need me anymore. "Do this for me, and then I'll explain everything when you get here, I promise. Maud is going to call the police."

The police. Of course, we had to call the police.

"Thank you," he replied a moment later, ending the call, and exhaling a sigh of relief.

I kept my mouth shut until Dakota turned around and approached me. His eyebrows suddenly furrowed, and his lips parted as if he wanted to confess something. The thick stench of blood polluted the air between us.

"Someone killed the orca," I said, my voice surprisingly calm. The breeze tugged at my wet hair, and I shivered. "Do you have any idea who did it?"

Asking Dakota that question seemed silly, but I needed to gauge his reaction.

"No." Hurt stuck across Dakota's handsome features like a lightning bolt. "Of course not. Why would I?"

I stared at him for a prolonged beat before nodding and taking out my phone. I didn't have the willpower or words to answer him. Feeling like I was somehow suspended above my body, I watched myself dial 911 and hoped I wouldn't say anything I'd regret in the morning.