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THE WATER LAPPED AT Callie’s feet, and she sucked in a breath, inhaling the salty Hawaiian ocean breeze. The air felt soft on her skin, blowing her long, blonde hair back with each gentle waft. Palm trees swayed in the distance, children’s shrieks of laughter carried over the sand, and warm sunshine beat down on her. An afternoon at the beach was calming. Soothing. She turned to walk along the shore, trying to remain in the moment. To just breathe. The sand was firm beneath her bare feet, grounding her. She looked around, squinting in the bright sunshine, and then slipped on a pair of dark sunglasses. Perfect beaches surrounded her. Happy families. Vacationing couples.
She was thousands of miles away from the airport in Manila—safe. Free.
She stopped, staring out across the blue waters of the Pacific Ocean as the wake from an incoming wave washed around her ankles. Moving to Hawaii had been the right thing to do. A vacation of sorts that turned into home in a tropical paradise where she could start over. Her travel blog and social media channels were dark. Her bank account was dwindling, but she’d find some type of work to do on the island. Something simple and easy.
No one would find her here. She might not really be living her life anymore, but she wasn’t in danger.
She was fine. Everything was fine.
***
CALLIE WALKED ACROSS the parking lot at the grocery store in Oahu that afternoon, having the weirdest feeling that she was being watched. She looked around the area near her, not recognizing anyone. She barely knew anyone on the island anyway—a couple of neighbors. That was it. The plastic bag she was carrying bit into her hand, and she shifted it, testing the strength of her arm. Her injury had long since healed, but she still favored her other arm.
She slid into her cute little Mini Cooper and locked the doors, smiling as she set her bags of food on the passenger seat. She was in Hawaii for goodness sakes. A dream destination. She’d picked out ripe fruit and some delicious looking veggies at the market. Some protein. Rice. She’d make a stir-fry for dinner later on, maybe sit on her balcony to eat so she could listen to the sounds of the ocean.
Maybe she could blog about food. She could photograph exotic fruits and dishes, never needing to show her face on camera. Biting her lip, she frowned. Callie had purposefully spent the last several months refusing to even think about the ordeal she’d been through. She was no longer traveling around the world by choice but could start back up at any time. She was just...living in the present. Healing.
A loud voice outside her window had her glancing to the left, and she blinked, taking in a calming breath. She was safe here.
She had a flood of emails to get through when she got back to her apartment—businesses asking when she’d be blogging again. Followers on her social media channels bemoaning that she’d taken everything down—the photos, the stories, the reels she’d saved for people to go back and watch. She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. Many of her memories about the day of the hijacking were hazy. She’d met a new friend at the airport. She’d boarded the plane.... Something had happened in the cockpit. Something important. But they’d hurt her, and she’d done everything she could to block out those memories. To simply forget any of it had ever happened.
Callie pushed the button to start the engine, backing out of her parking space. There was no sense in trying to remember details she’d pushed to the back of her mind. No sense in reliving her worse nightmare.
She drove through the parking lot, her gaze landing on a muscular guy standing near his SUV. He looked oddly familiar, his height and broad shoulders catching her notice. He was an attractive man. As he glanced her way, she did a double-take, watching him in surprise. He had sunglasses on, so she couldn’t see his entire face, but alarm bells were going off in her head.
Callie gripped the steering wheel of her Mini Cooper so tightly, her fingers were turning white. She blinked, trying to get a grip on the shock washing over her. Was she hallucinating? Had she simply conjured up the man she’d just seen in her mind?
In an instant, she’d been back on that hijacked plane. Only this time, it wasn’t the memories of the terrorists that had shaken her to her very core. She wasn’t being dragged into the cockpit, crying and shaking. She wasn’t screaming as they roughly held her, breaking her arm.
The memories coursing through her right now were of her savior. The man who’d seen her in tears after his team of commandos had stormed the plane. Her guy was big and strong, and somehow, even amidst the chaos, he’d honed in on her. Sensed her fear. The guy’s muscled hand had gently landed on her shoulder as the other passengers pushed by, and as her tears had fallen even more, he’d gruffly said that he’d help her. Before she could fully process what was happening, his big hands had been at her waist, safe rather than threatening, and he’d lifted her onto the emergency slide, shouting out orders to someone below.
And then she’d been free, sliding into the dark night and the waiting arms of first responders.
She shook her head, pulling into traffic as the memories continued to churn. Wyatt had found her later that night, too. He’d come to make sure she was okay. She’d been in pain from her broken arm, and for some reason the big, gruff man had sought her out amongst the hundreds of people there.
This was just too much though. Seeing Wyatt here in Hawaii was impossible. It went against any sort of logic. Of course, men like him deployed around the world, but he wasn’t staging a rescue or fighting terrorists. He was grocery shopping like he lived here. She knew there were military servicemembers stationed in Pearl Harbor, but the men who’d rescued her all those months ago were from Coronado. She was sure of it.
Callie shrieked as her cell phone buzzed and then let out a shaky breath, mentally chastising herself. She was way too paranoid these days. It’s not like Wyatt was calling her up. He’d probably forgotten all about her after that day. Just because she’d seen his lookalike in the parking lot didn’t mean he’d remembered her, found her number, and called her out of the blue.
She pushed the button on the dashboard to answer the call. “Hey.”
“Hey girl!” her neighbor turned friend Alexa said. “Want to grab dinner tonight?”
“Tonight?”
“Yeah. I finished up my wedding early. It was just a small, intimate ceremony on the beach—no big reception afterward. I photographed the wedding and got some amazing pictures of the bride and groom, but I’m free. So, what do you say?”
Callie glanced in the rearview mirror at the disappearing parking lot. The moment was already behind her, and even if that had been Wyatt, it was too late to do anything about it. He’d be in his SUV and gone. She didn’t even know his last name. What would she say anyway—hey, thanks for saving my life? I’m haunted every night by the assholes who shoved me into the cockpit and broke my arm, but hope you’re doing well?
She clenched her jaw, trying to tamp down those thoughts. She was safe. She’d escaped.
“Callie?” Alexa asked.
“I’m here. Dinner? Sure. I need to swing by my apartment and drop off my groceries first. Where do you want to go?”
“I’m dying for the mahi-mahi at Coconuts.”
Callie huffed out a laugh. She wasn’t so sure if Alexa was dying for the mahi-mahi or the cute bartender she liked to flirt with there. He seemed harmless enough, showing no interest in Callie, so she went along with it. Alexa had been a good friend since Callie had moved to Honolulu. She was fun but low-key, living a laid-back life photographing weddings. There were certainly an abundance of locals and vacationers alike who liked to tie the knot in a tropical setting, and Alexa was crazy talented. Callie had told her about the hijacking, and as far as Alexa knew, Callie was here in the islands for a fresh start.
She never dared mention that someone was looking for her. That she’d never be safe.
“It’s just the mahi-mahi you want, huh?” Callie teased.
“Well, I could be persuaded to order a Mai Tai. While sitting at the bar.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I’m just going to ask him out,” Alexa decided. “I know he probably flirts with everyone, but there’s no reason to dance around it anymore.”
“If you say so,” Callie said, biting back a grin.
Alexa let out a sigh. “I know. I said I was playing hard to get. He’s not really getting it though. Men are dense.”
“Well, you’re certainly right about that,” Callie said, flicking on her turn signal and pulling into her apartment complex. Palm trees swayed in the breeze, and she smiled despite herself. While she didn’t love that she was essentially hiding out in Hawaii, giving up her travels around the world and somewhat nomadic lifestyle, she had to admit, there were plenty of worse places to spend her time. Every now and then she felt like her old self—carefree, adventurous, safe. If she pretended hard enough, she could imagine she gave up her career by choice. No one could find her if she kept her head down, staying offline.
Callie resisted the urge to shudder. She had no idea who the mystery person was anyway or why they’d sought her out. “What time to you want to meet? Seven-ish?” she asked.
“Sounds perfect. I need to change into something sexier. You know he works Thursdays.”
“Why else would we go there tonight?” Callie said without missing a beat. “I’ll probably change, too. See you soon!” She pushed the end button and pulled into a parking space, feeling somewhat surprised. She’d managed to drive all the way home without being paranoid. Not that anyone would be following her here. Who would even think to look for her in the middle of the Pacific Ocean? She was a travel blogger. She traveled. Staying in one place wasn’t her game, which was exactly why this was the safest thing for her to do. She might’ve gone dark on all her social media channels, but the pictures and information was still floating around out there on the Internet. Hopefully her followers assumed she was simply planning something big—amazing.
Callie bit her lip. Would she ever go back to her old lifestyle?
More and more, memories of the hijacking were coming back—things she’d forgotten in her sheer terror and panic. Things she pushed to the recesses of her mind, so she didn’t have to think of them. Tonight, she’d go out with Alexa and have fun. Forget about her troubles. And tomorrow she’d put one foot in front of the other and move forward, just like she’d always done.
