Her daddy was there. And her mommy. Her big brother and sister too. They chased each other through the shallows. And jumped over the frizzy white bubbles as each wave crashed then the water was dragged out again.
Then she was swung up onto her father’s shoulders and he was walking out into the deeper water with her.
At first she was excited, she loved to be out this deep. But her dad didn't stop. He kept walking. The beach behind her got further and further away.
The water was too deep.
If he let go of her she’d sink underneath the surface.
The waves would get her, tossing her this way and that until she didn't know what was up and what was down.
Still, he kept walking.
Deeper and deeper.
Then he was gone.
She was alone in the water.
It buffeted her about.
Her head went under.
The sound of rushing water filled her ears.
“Rylla.”
Someone said her name, but they were so far away. Too far away to help her.
“Rylla.”
She was drowning and she couldn’t stop it from happening.
“Rylla.”
This time the voice snapped her awake.
All the way awake.
Her eyes popped open, and she saw a face hovering above her.
Beau Drake.
Her brother-in-law. She had never liked him, but never in a million years would she have dreamed that he was a serial killer.
“You're awake,” he sounded relieved.
“You shot me,” she intended it to convey the anger she felt but instead her voice was weak and rough. Her throat ached but it was nothing compared to the pain in her leg. She must have passed out when he’d shot her, then he’d transported her here, wherever here may be.
“I didn't mean to.” He pouted like a spoiled child. “You ran at me, startled me. I didn't want to hurt you. I never wanted to hurt anybody.”
Part of her thought he really believed that. Beau was so wrapped up in getting what he wanted that he didn't seem to think of anything else.
“I think you’re okay,” Beau told her. “The bullet went straight through, and your wound seems to have stopped bleeding. I cleaned it and bandaged it, I’ve got antibiotics and painkillers for you.”
He sounded sincere like he really didn't want her to die.
He was crazier than she thought. He really wanted the two of them to be together. But surely he had to know that was never going to happen. Even if he kept her here long enough and managed to brainwash her with a combination of isolation, dependence, and fear of physical harm, that would be all it was. Brainwashing. Survival. There was nothing he could do that would ever make her love him.