“Grab hold of it,” Lawson says breathlessly in my ear. “Can you lift yourself up?”

  I reach for the board and I’m grateful when my body complies. I take hold of the opposite side and with the force of Lawson’s hand on my hip shoving me upward I’m able to pull myself up until I can roll my body onto the board.

  “Grip the front tight. Hold on.”

  I nod in agreement, my fingers hesitantly dipping back into the water just enough to wrap them around the gentle roll of the front of the board. Lawson’s head disappears from my peripheral. It sends a jolt of panic through my body and I’m just about to sit up to look for him under the water when the board lurches forward. He’s behind me, holding on to the tail end and kicking us back to shore.

  I don’t breathe the entire way. I’m watching for that iconic, telltale triangle to appear on the top of the water. I’m waiting for Lawson’s strength to disappear below the surface. I’m waiting for the agonizing crush of mouth and teeth and nature to take hold of both the board and me, and drag us under again.

  It can’t take us more than a two minutes to reach the shore but it’s the longest two minutes of my life. Lawson is relentless, his body unfailing as it wills us out of the water. Once he can stand he’s running with me, his powerful legs plowing through the water. Thrashing loudly as people shout and he hollers back. Someone is calling 911. Someone else is getting a blanket. Lawson is calling for a knife.

  The surfboard rolls and rocks in the water as he pushes me in. A wave crests and crashes over us. It jostles me. It nearly knocks me off the board but he’s there, Lawson is there, his hands on me with hard certainty that keeps me afloat and pulls me back up onto the board. I grab hold of one of his hands with mine as my vision swims dangerously. The ocean, the sky, the sand, the sun, the stars – they swirl together in a sickening dance until I don’t know up from down anymore. All I know is the hot pain in my leg and the gentle warmth of Lawson’s hand.

  “Stay with me, Rach,” he says sternly. “Eyes on me, you hear me? Stay with me.”

  We’ve reached the beach. I’m on my back on the board, wet sand clinging to my face along with my blond hair. He brushes it aside so I can see him. So I can find him and his eyes, and I latch onto them as the world spins faster and faster.

  “Is she alive?” Katy asks tremulously.

  “Stay with me,” Lawson repeats calmly, ignoring Katy. “Rachel.”

  “Stay with me,” I whisper, my eyes full of his face.

  He grins, relieved. “That’s right. I need you to stay with me. Help is coming. They’ll get you out of here.”

  I hold his hand tightly, afraid to let go. Afraid the tide will take me and I’ll slip back into the water. Back into the darkness. If he leaves me I’ll die. I can feel it.

  I look at him in open terror, my heart in my throat. “Stay,” I plead.

  His grin fades as he nods seriously. “Okay. I’ll stay with you. I promise.”

  I nod, feeling relieved.

  Then sick.

  I turn my head and vomit on the golden sand. It’s all water. All ocean and fear that mingles in the foam of the surf and fades out into the ocean.

  It fades to black.

  END OF SAMPLE

  To keep reading purchase Lawless here.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  I was born in Eugene, Oregon and studied English Literature at the University of Oregon (Go Ducks!) I love writing all kinds of genres from YA Dystopian to New Adult Romance, the common themes between them all being strong character development and a good dose of humor.

  My husband, son, and snuggly pitbull are my world.

  Visit my website for more information on upcoming releases, Tracey Ward

 

 

  Tracey Ward, Ringside

 

 

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