40
I find Mila perched atthe end of the dock, her legs dangling down into the water, Chase splashing below. Chelsea hangs back as Ryan towers above, frowning down at him. “Get out.”
I lay a hand on his arm. “I’ve got it. Thanks. Chase, no swimming drunk. House rules.”
He looks up at me with an innocent grin. “You make the rules. You can break the rules.”
“I don’t want to break the rules. The rules exist for a reason.” I give him a meaningful look.
In response, he splashes me in the face. I slowly wipe the water out of my eyes. Mila giggles and I stifle the urge to push her in after Chase. Let them find out for themselves. “It’s not up for debate. Get out or go home.”
“He can’t go home without getting out,” Mila says. “It’s not a fair choice.”
“She has a point, Ken. Give me something to work with.” Chase glides back farther from the dock in a relaxed backstroke. He’s so arrogant. He may belikea brother to me, but he isn’t. It isn’t his house. He doesn’t have the responsibility to make sure everyone is okay all the time. As long as he splashes around like a jerk, I’m obligated to stay out here and babysit him, and really, I’m not in any condition to jump in after himif anything goes wrong. And I am becoming more and more convinced that something is going to go wrong.
“Please just get out,” I say, my temper strained.
“You’re being an asshole, Chase,” Ryan says.
“Stay out of it,” Chelsea whispers.
“Seriously, Ryan. You should rest your mouth. You might sprain your neck again, and we’d have to have you airlifted to the Saint Bullshit Hospital for imaginary injuries.” Chase treads water, watching Ryan. I can’t even believe he started again. Again. I don’t know what’s wrong with him. With anyone.
But instead of going ballistic like I expect him to, Ryan just says, in this calm, eerie voice, “That’s it, Chase.”
Chase doesn’t answer, but he looks uncertain. He’s drunk, really drunk, and I know he’s going to regret everything he’s said tonight. He loves Ryan. I know he does. I don’t know if the feeling is mutual anymore. I don’t know how Ryan feels about any of us. Except my girlfriend.
Chelsea steps between him and the edge of the dock. “Okay. Let’s all take a deep breath.”
It’s difficult to tell if Ryan was already in motion at that point or if he just spontaneously shot forward, but somehow his arms are suddenly on Chelsea’s shoulders, and then she’s in the water. Mila screams and I skid to the edge and reach down to help Chelsea, but when she looks up at me, there’s real, actual terror in her eyes. Not hurt—terror.
My heart leaps into my throat, and my lungs seem to empty as I pull her up.
But she’s okay. He let her go.
“What the hell is wrong with you,” Chase shouts. He cuts through the water and hauls himself up onto the dock.
“I’m so sorry. Chelsea. Chelsea.” Ryan pushes his way toward her, but she turns away from him, shivering. “It was an accident.” He jumps aboard the boat and comes back with a towel. “Here.” Ryan tries to wrap it around Chelsea, but I yank it out of his hands and drape it around her myself, then pull her against me protectively. I am losing control. I cannot protect my friends. This is not supposed to happen.
Chelsea stares at Ryan, wide-eyed. “It was not an accident. You’re different. You’re changing. Chase, you too. I don’t know what’s wrong with everyone. Emily, Kennedy, even you.”
“Oh, and you’re magically exempt?” Mila says.
“You don’t know her.” I eye her coldly. “You don’t get to weigh in.”
Mila climbs onto the boat, finds another towel, and hands it to Chase. “Here.”
Chase shakes himself off like a dog after a swim and then towel-dries himself vigorously. “Say what you want about me—I don’t attack women.”
Mila wanders back to the boat and swings a leg over the side, then another.
“Please get off the boat.” I turn back to Chelsea. “Are you okay?”
She nods shakily. “Yes. I just need to make some tea or something.”
“Okay. The rest of us are going to talk for a moment.”
Chelsea gives me a look. “Don’t make a bigger deal.”