Ella
Owen is gonewhen I wake. He left a vague note but doesn’t return before I’ve showered, so I decide to go for a morning walk. Today is my last full day in Saint Lucia. I miss my house and my friends, but it’s been nice not worrying about work or Gavin too much.
Though, thoughts of Owen have turned from sexual to complicated. He fucked me senseless last night. It was once again exactly what I needed, but I haven’t forgotten why I got drunk in the first place.
I have feelings for Owen, ones that will be hard to get rid of when I step onto the plane to go back home. The one thing I didn’t want. Feelings mean he has the power to hurt me. That isn’t sitting well inside my head, which tends to overthink things.
Once again, I find myself headed to the beach and avoiding the things that should be talked about.
I consider finding Rosa to ask her about some of the things she’s already mentioned to me, but I can’t find it within myself to do so. She’ll ask how things are going, and even that simple question seems too complicated to answer at the moment.
There’s a game of volleyball that appears to be starting soon. I’m tempted to ask them if I can join, even if it’s just as an extra player, but before I do, I spot Blake.
He’s kneeling next to a woman who’s not his wife. The sight infuriates me. I know Cammie feels stuck and that Blake has her by the tits with her dad, but that doesn’t mean I intend to stand by and let him treat her like shit.
Fury ignites within me as I waltz over to them, and I’m hovering over Blake.
“Tell me your room number and I’ll meet you up there in an hour,” he says, running a hand through his hair as if he doesn’t have a care in the world.
The gorgeous blonde he’s hitting on looks up at me instead of answering him. I wave and smile, letting the rage I feel for this disgusting man shine through my narrowed eyes.
“Can I help you?” she asks with a pinched expression.
“Actually, I think it’s me who can help you,” I say when Blake looks up.
“Ella,” he warns, but I ignore him.
“You see, this man right here, he’s married. In fact, he’s on his honeymoon. Not only that, he likes to cheat on any woman he makes commitments to. If that fact doesn’t deter you from his charms, this might.”
I grab his wrist, first indicating to his hand, then his shoes. Blake is trying to talk over me, but I’m a force to be reckoned with this morning. “You’d think with these big hands and feet that the hotdog dick between his legs is more of a thick sausage, but I assure you, your vagina will only be disappointed by his weak hips once you fail to orgasm.”
She lowers her sunglasses at me and smirks. “Thank you.”
I move over just in time for her to grab a handful of sand and throw it in Blake’s face. “Fuck off, hotdog dick.”
He spits and sputters, wiping at his face, and I keep walking. Unfortunately, he catches up to me and grabs my arm painfully.
“What the fuck, Ella?”
“What the fuck, indeed,” I say and yank out of his grip. “Cammie is a beautiful and smart woman. You, on the other hand, are a repulsive prick, and when I get home, I’m going to do everything in my power to ruin your reputation. Men like you don’t deserve happiness and I hope your dick falls off from the next pussy it meets.”
He gapes at me, and I storm off. Shit, that feels good. Cammie might be too afraid to go against her dad, but that won’t stop me from following through on my threat to Blake. I still know some of his friends. I fully intend to put some extra bumps in the road for him when I’m home.
I don’t know where I’m headed now, but I’m in a better mood. Maybe I will go find Rosa. I’ve still yet to try windsurfing. I think it just might be time I do that. On my own and just for me. Something to make me feel wild and alive.
* * *
Three hours later,I’ve finished my tutorial in windsurfing. It sounds easy enough, and I’ve been wakeboarding. The boards look somewhat similar, which prevents me from psyching myself out.
My trainer and his buddy had a ten-minute conversation about which board to send me out with. That both confused me and made me feel better that they were putting that much thought into my safety.
As I straddle the 5.7 board with no clue why it’s named that, I kick my feet to get myself into position. The wind, according to my trainer, is “on shore” which should be perfect for a beginner like myself.
Once I’m far enough out into the water, I do as I was instructed and take the uphaul in my hands before slowly standing up. My ankles wobble and knees shake, but the board is wide enough that I feel safe. Mostly.
I slide my feet into the designated spots and hold on for dear life, hoping like hell the wind does its thing without killing me.
“Don’t forget your right angle,” the trainer calls from the beach.