Free Caught in the Surf by Jasinda Wilder Page B

What’s that? And how are you getting there?” Lani’s head was throbbing violently still, and she had to work to contain her temper.
    “Seeker’s Island. It’s…an island. A tiny little place a few miles out thataway.” He pointed to the west, toward the ocean. “And I’m gonna fly there.”  
    There was a brief metallic scraping-grinding noise, and flame spurted into life, revealing a striking face made of sharp features, hard lines and angles and planes, deep-set eyes.
    “In what?”
    He blew smoke out. “An airplane. A seaplane, to be exact.”
    Lani’s heart leapt. Or, well, it shuffled excitedly. No part of Lani would be doing any leaping until the world stopped wobbling and her brain stopped trying to gouge a hole in her skull via her eyeballs. “Could you take me with you?”
    A pause, tobacco crackling, a long exhale. “Could. For eighty bucks, one way.”
    Lani just gaped. “You’re going anyway. How you gonna charge me?”
    “If I wasn’t the one flying, I’d charge myself. Gas is expensive. Plus, it ain’t gonna be a pretty flight.”
    “Nothing you just said made any sense.” Lani pinched the bridge of her nose. “Like I said, you’re going to this island anyway. I don’t understand why you can’t just take me with you. I won’t be any trouble. I won’t even talk. I don’t take up much space. I’ve only got the backpack.”
    “I ain’t concerned about the space you’d take up. Shit, you’re so small I could probably stow you under my seat.” He stood up and slid down a few seats until he was next to her. Suddenly, he seemed to fill the entire airport. “I’m concerned about the fact that I’m flat broke, darlin’, and I’m on the end of my gas tank. An economics lesson for you: I’m the supply, you’re the demand. I’m your only way to get anywhere, and that’s my price. Take it or leave it.”
    Lani just stared at him. “That’s…that’s screwed up in so many ways I don’t even know where to begin.”
    “How about eighty bucks or ‘no, thank you.’”
    “How about, ‘you’re an asshole’?” Lani slammed the last of her Coke like it was a shot.  
    “Fair enough. It’s not personal, though. I need the money, and you need the ride.”
    Lani considered. She had a pair of hundred-dollar bills in her wallet, and that was it. That was all she had to her name. But she really didn’t relish the idea of sitting here alone in the dark all night.  
    “Fine,” she said, sighing, “but you’re still an asshole.” She dug through her backpack and purse to get at her wallet, handing him one of the crisp $100 bills.  
    “All day long. Got no change on me,” he said, exhaling smoke. “But I’ll get it for you once we hit the island.”  
    Lani shrugged as if she didn’t care. “What’s your name?”  
    The orange glow brightened, and he blew out a long spume of smoke. “Casey. You?”
    “Kailani.”
    He nodded, peering at her through the dim gloom and the pall of his smoke. “Kailani, hmm? From Hawaii?”
    Lani nodded. “All my life, brah.”
    “Spent a good bit of time on the islands, myself. Had a run to and from the Big Island for about two years. Made good cash, too.”
    “I lived town side Oahu,” Lani said.  
    Casey just nodded again. “Old army buddy lives town side. Right near Diamond Head, I think. Haven’t seen him in a while, though. Might’ve moved.” Casey stood and poked his head out of the cracked-open door. “Looks like the storm’s mostly over. We should go now.”
    Lani stood and slipped her backpack on her shoulders. “I’m ready.”
    Casey pushed through the door, held it for Lani, and then kicked the wedge of wood away so the door latched behind them. Lani dragged in a deep breath of the tropical air and the rain-thick humidity. After a month of couch-hopping with friends all over the mainland, Lani was glad to be somewhere that even remotely resembled home. Even if she was nearly broke, alone, with no plan.  
    It