Wet: Part 2 by S. Jackson Rivera Page A

time.
    oOo
    Paul finally made it back to the shop to find the boat docked in its spot, equipment all put away, and everyone settling in for a routine day—everyone except Rhees. He walked all around the shop, but still didn’t find her. He tapped on the locked bathroom door but the new guy, Adrian, answered back.
    Paul asked around, asked if anyone had seen her, but no one admitted to it, and that pissed him off. He was already in a bad mood, angry with himself, but knowing how too many of them treated her—the girls still resented her and the guys still drooled and shared fantasies about her—right on his deck.
    With him, Dobbs, and Christian around, none of them dared say anything as offensive as he’d heard away from the shop, around town, but he didn’t know how much longer he’d be able to keep himself from just kicking every single student, man and woman, off his property and start over with a new clientele.
    He hoped the performance-gone-very-wrong shock of the night before would finally put an end to the stupid high school behavior, but at the moment, he needed to find Rhees and figure out where they stood. He worried, sure the reason he couldn’t find her was because she’d heard what he almost did—what he was sure people thought he did—what he’d thought he did with Nicole—before he’d asked her.
    He knew people talked about him, too often, and too many would love to make sure Rhees found out about his activities, and if history was any indication, they’d exaggerate—fill in the blanks with their imaginations—imaginations based on real memories of his past.
    He feared his temper had guaranteed their pretend relationship was over before it’d even started, and that made him sick to his stomach—but for some reason—he didn’t understand it—he felt the ache of it higher up in his chest.
    He pulled his cell phone from his pocket, dialed her number and walked around, listening for her phone to ring. He perked up when he heard the ringtone she’d assigned him, Darth Vader’s theme song from Star Wars, and he followed the sound to her backpack, in the office. That idea was a bust, and he let out a stream of cuss words because of her stubborn, irritating, cute as hell , little hide. He might have smiled if he wasn’t so distressed.
    He didn’t care about respecting her privacy at the moment, he had to know. He checked the backpack and found her clothes neatly folded inside, her shoes sat on the floor next to the pack. She’d never wander around the island without first getting dressed—
    Suddenly it felt like a vise had seized his heart and started squeezing. He tried to dismiss his worst fear and stay calm as he walked to the end of the deck again. He looked out over the ocean, hoping she’d gone snorkeling. No sign of her. He exhaled roughly, stood frozen for a second, but then bolted, headed next door to Miranda’s store, where she lived with her son, Randy.
    “You called roll after the last dive, right?” Paul yelled as he barged through the door, uninvited. “Tell me you called the fucking roll!”
    “Yes. I called roll.” Randy jumped up from his kitchen table, knocking his lunch to the floor. His wife and Miranda looked up at Paul like a crazy man had just broken into their home.
    “Everyone was accounted for then?” Paul asked desperately.
    “Yes.”
    “What about Rhees? Tell me you didn’t leave Rhees stranded out in the middle of the ocean!” Paul knew he was still yelling, but he couldn’t help it. 
    “I called roll. Everyone’s back on the boat. Specially cousin Rhees. She’s fam’ly. I’d never leave Rhees. I’d never leave anyone. You know that, mon.”
    Paul ran his hand through his hair and bit his lip before his nervous tick took control of his mouth. He ran back to the shop and frantically threw the closet door open to check for himself. Her wet gear hung inside and he dropped forward with relief. He leaned his hands on his knees as he reeled in his