Ashlyn hasn't spoken a word since the age of eight, and her heart's never felt more protected. But, when the confident and ever so charming Derek stumbles into her quiet little world, her emotions-and forbidden desires-have never been so loud.
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The ocean drew a deep breath.
Suddenly, and all at once, everything came back to life.
The sounds of the twin's spirited words were drowned beneath the roaring in Ashlyn's ears, the jagged sounds of her breathing smothering her. Three steps at most stood between where her feet sunk into the sand and the shifting waves that rolled up on the shore. Three steps, but a lifetime of disillusions.
The girls continued their taunts from the water, oblivious to the rising storm that raged inside of Ashlyn.
She had no doubt that everyone was watching, and there would be no turning back if she ran from this now. But still, her flight instincts urged her on, the security of the sandy dunes more promising than the mysterious depths that approached.
Her hands twisted tightly in the fabric of her dress, and her toes curled and clung to the granules of sand, as she fought to maintain a steady heart and a clear head. Panic and fear thrashed against her from all angles, the thoughts she'd always fought against spiraling in her head. The sand rose and fell, a dizzying ordeal, as the call of the ocean throbbed behind her skull.
Thoughts of the darkness that rushed her, the burning in her throat as she had descended into the belly of the beast, warred against the memories of twilight dancing and childish squeals, playing in the swells with her father on those sleepless summer nights.
Just as she was about to retreat and face whatever ridicule came her way for doing so, a teasing wind of salt and a hint of her father's favorite breath mints swept around her, staying her steps.
A still small voice reached out to her, it's softly spoken voice commanding her limbs as it carried across the ocean's surface and brushed across her ears. The voice foreign, yet so familiar, was music to her ears.
An ever beckoning song sung from its lips, commanding her to come closer, to trust and endure. It beckoned as she swayed on her heels. To come or to go, she did not know. But still, it beckoned.
Ashlyn hesitated, her foot sliding ever so slightly closer, then the other.
The water reached, icy tendrils clawing closer towards her, all while the voice continued its inspiring promptings.
Her hand suddenly felt warm at her side, like it was being held in a comforting grip. But when she glanced down all that was there was an empty space beside her. An empty space where he'd once stood with her before the very same waves that broke upon one another.
The voice continued to speak, slowly gaining in volume until it was the strongest of sounds in her ear.
"That's it, baby, one step more," he encouraged, his voice beckoning her out into the shallows where he stood.
Hesitantly she shuffled out to stand in the wet sand, her feet sinking below her. It felt squishy, and ticklish, coating her small feet. Cautiously, she trained her eyes on the horizon behind her father, watching as the flat expanse lay peacefully in waiting. Her father smiled, taking a step towards her, his hand outstretched.
