Mad Sea by K Webster Page B

like Hali would work. In all actuality, it can’t. I’m hardened and rough. She’s all sweetness and smooth perfection. And one step inside the clubhouse, those motherfuckers would devour my sweet treat. Fuck that. I’ll figure out a way to have both. I’m a master at compartmentalizing my life. My adopted mother and her cats, who I still visit frequently at her beach house, are in a safe, secret compartment that only Jagger knows about. My Sunday visits with Hali are another part of me no one knows a thing about. And the biggest piece of me, stays in its own undisclosed part of my mind.
    I pull into the carport of my condo on the beach. The clubhouse may be the place I run, but I don’t live there. Instead, I stay at the worn two bedroom condo that’s fairly private, with no beachgoers out my way. Turning off the motorcycle, I climb off and head straight toward the water, shedding leather and denim along the way. Boots are kicked off and my weapons are discarded into the sand without a care in the world.
    As soon as I’m completely naked and standing before my true home, I smile and inhale the salty breeze.
    Could I ever share this part of me with anyone?
    Maybe someone like Hali?
    What would she think of me?
    A growl rumbles in my throat just thinking of her rejection—the horror on her face from knowing exactly who, or more like what I am. She can’t ever know. It’ll remain in its compartment where it belongs.
    I charge toward the raging waves and once I’m waist deep, I dive in. The water sluices down my bare skin, sending a calm like no other washing over me. Closing my eyes, I will the change to happen. Over the years, I’ve learned to control when I convert into my true form.
    My legs begin binding together, almost painfully, but I don’t feel trapped. I know it’s the step before I become truly free. The tightening becomes more and more intense with each passing second, as if some heavenly god is sewing my powerful legs together against my will. I fight the urge to gasp for air and claw to the surface, but instead suck the saltwater deep into my lungs. The water is murky, but I know soon I’ll be able to see, with crystal clarity, everything in the sea.
    Everything goes black for one quiet moment.
    Then, underwater, brilliant colors nearly blind me. Colorful fish dart around me and the peaceful sounds of the ocean soothe my soul.
    I’m free.
    With a powerful whap of my tail, I surge deeper into the ocean. Being in my true form, I’m strong and untouchable. I’m free to search every salty square inch of the sea for others like me. Every evening, I do just that. I spend hours swimming and hunting for a family I never knew.
    But as exhilarating as this is, it’s also lonely.
    It’s like I’m the last one of an extinct race.
    Alone.
    After hours of getting my fill, I come across a shimmering, red tinted shell with green speckles in it. It instantly reminds me of Hali.
    Maybe one day I can share who I am with someone. If anything, a sweet girl like Hali would be the one to accept such an unusual notion about someone. Gritting my teeth, I start making my swim back toward shore. Of course I can’t tell her. If I like her, which I really fucking do, I can’t tell her that…ever.
    How fucking ridiculous would that be?
    “Hi, my name is Madden Finn, president of the South Beach Sinners and Pink Pelican frozen yogurt eating yuppie. Oh…” I groan as I clutch the shell in my fist, drawing blood. “And I’m a fucking merman.”

 
    “D oes the new boyfriend know you’re a hooker?” Steffan questions from the couch, a puff of smoke clouding the air around him.
    I bristle at his comment and halt in my tracks. When I moved to Miami, I didn’t have a nickel to my name. I’d been lost and on the run from crap I’d rather not think about. While searching for not only a job but a place to put down some roots, I’d come across Steffan. He’d been at the bus station just standing there, waiting, when