Drowning » Rafe Cameron & JJ Maybank

046

(chapter forty six)

Richard's heart almost jumped out of his chest when he woke up the next morning and opened his daughter's bedroom door to check up on her, only to see the bed made and empty, with almost no trace that she had been there.

The sun was barely peaking on the sky and he sprinted downstairs, grabbing his phone, ready to dial Shoupe's phone number, only to see the light of the new TV he bought for when she came back.

His hand that held the phone fell on his side as he stared at Clars with wide eyes watching her old favorite werewolf show. Richard closed his eyes and let out a sigh, walking down the last remaining steps.

"You gave me a hell of a scare," he says, breaking her focus on the show and turning the tired brown eyes back to him.

"I'm sorry," was the only answer as she held the pillow even closer to her body, becoming even smaller than before.

Richard sighed, sitting beside her as his blue eyes traveled to the TV, and his left hand dropped on the back of Clara's hair, brushing ever so softly her hair to soothe any worry she might have, as he noticed how short it was from before they went to bed.

The bird chirped outside announcing the start of the morning. The sun was barely out yet, the sky turning a nice shade of pink and purple. Richard didn't know what exactly he should do or say to his daughter after everything that happened. After all, how much a month of what she went through could change who she was?

But one thing he knew for sure was how much she loved the water. How much she liked surfing with him, so Richard nudged his shoulder against hers, breaking once again her focus on the TV.

"Wanna go to the beach?" Clara blinked a few times with the question but nodded slowly after hesitating for a second. So he patted her knee as a way to tell her to start moving. "Great, go get ready. I'll grab my things in the car."

While she saw a more excited Richard closing the door after leaving the house, Clara pursed her lips, turned off the TV, and walked upstairs. Opening her wardrobe felt almost unfamiliar for some reason.

She grabbed a black bikini set and put it on. Looking back at the mirror on the side of the wardrobe, her hands ran over the showing ribs, but her eyes were still locked on the wound on her stomach and the still healing scars of her arm, making a frown make its way to her face.

Applying a bandage on top of the wounds, she then moved around in the drawer until she found a long-sleeved lycra shirt, not wasting a second in hiding her body from anyone. Then she tied her hair the best way she could with how short it was now.

Grabbing a towel and going back downstairs, Richard had already changed in the guest bathroom. He was only wearing his surfing board shorts and he offered the girl a bottle of water, which she eagerly accepted.

When she went outside, the two surfboards were on the back of her father's truck, and he nudged her arm again as he locked the front door. Before going to the beach, the two passed on the only place that would be opening at that time in Outerbanks, and it was the bar her father had to bring since she was little. They ate a sandwich each, as Clara tried to ignore the confused looks sent her way.

Arriving at the beach, Clara was holding her board under her arm, placing it on the sand as she stretched.

The waves crashed on the shore, and she pursed her lips. A flashback of the air leaving her lungs, the salt water burning her throat; the plane losing control and sinking with her and the pogues inside, and Clara couldn't help but swallow dry.