Dawn Patrol

78

Boone takes the. 38, moves to the side of the door, nudges the curtain aside, and looks out.

Sunny stands at the door.

Her blond hair, shiny in the moist night air, peeks out from under the hood of a dark blue sweatshirt. Arms folded inside the waist pouch, she hops up and down with chill and anxiety.

Boone opens the door, yanks her inside, and shuts it behind her.

“Boone, Tide told me-”

She sees Petra sitting on the couch.

In Boone's sweats.

Which she used to wear herself, in happier times, after long mornings in the water and afternoon lovemaking.

“Excuse me,” Sunny says, her voice colder than the water. “I didn't realize-”

“It's not-”

“What it looks like?” She glares at Boone for a second, then slaps him hard across the face. “I thought you were dead, Boone! You let me think you were dead.”

“I'm sorry.”

She shakes her head. “I'll tell Cheerful and Hang. They were worried about you.”

“You have to get out of here, Sunny,” Boone says.

“No kidding.”

“I meant-”

“I know what you meant.”

It's not safe, Boone thinks, is what I meant.

But she's already walking away. He looks out the window and sees her taking long strides down the pier, into his past, out of his life.