Free Dead Living (Spirit Caller Book 5) by Krista D Ball Page B

and your friends to play in,” I said very sternly, so he knew I was all serious and stuff.
    “You know you want to,” Jeremy said.
    “No! Jeremy, no. I said no. Stop looking at me like that.”
    “Fine,” Jeremy said loftily. “So….did you pack the red bra I like?”
    “I packed a jumbo box of tampons and enough ibuprofen to knock out a horse.”
    “But did you pack the bra?”
    I glared at him.
    “Don’t make me turn this car around.”
    We drove the entire way to the wharf laughing and falling in love all over again without a care in the world. We had no idea what was following us.
     

Chapter 7
    Garrett. Jeremy Garrett.
     
    After parking and unloading the car, we took a boat to the island. Jeremy had rented the boat from a cop friend’s buddy’s buddy’s next-door neighbour’s cousin’s brother’s kid. Have I mentioned lately how much I don’t like boats?
    Jeremy was up at the wheel acting like he was at the helm of the Starship Enterprise in an epic battle against the Jem'Hadar. Now, the Atlantic Ocean isn’t a happy ocean like the Pacific. I went whale watching in Tofino, British Columbia once and, I gotta tell you, that was like driving on a flat surface. This was crap. Total and unabashed crap.
    Waves were everywhere. Water spraying. The boat was all over the freaking place. The emergency dinghy we were pulling behind us, as a safety measure, was miraculously still there and still in once piece, though I have no idea how. Several times, waves crashed against us, the spray hitting me square in the face.
    “Isn’t this awesome?” Jeremy shouted from the wheelhouse.
    “You’re never going to see me naked ever again,” I muttered darkly.
    “This is so cool!”
    I gripped the railing tighter and tried closing my eyes. That made the motion sickness worse. When I opened my eyes back up, I was rewarded with a spray of salt water hitting me in the face. James Bond was up there at the wheel bouncing and moving with the boat, shouting and cheering as he bounced the boat off the whitecap waves.
    “I hate you more than all words can say.”
    “This is so fucking awesome!”
    My cappuccino sloshed one last time. Then I vomited all over myself.
    “Hey Rach, did you…oh God!”
    The engine slowed and then came to a dull rumble. He grabbed the railing and slid down, as opposed to using the steps. The boat continued to toss in the waves of doom.
    “Are you all right?”
    I answered by breaking into sobs.
    “Why did you throw up on yourself?”
    What the hell kind of question was that?
    He sighed. “Look, the lighthouse is just over there on that island. Do you see it?”
    I looked at where he was pointing and nodded. The large, rocky island had a bright white and red lighthouse on its highest point. Smaller buildings were scattered about the island’s plateau, also all painted white and red. The lichen and moss had turned various shades of orange and red. White caps crashed against the side of our temporary rocky home.
    “I wish I’d packed my watercolours,” I said disappointedly.
    Jeremy smiled as he tied the boat to the small, wooden wharf. He pointed to an orange trash bag while he worked.
    I picked it up and grinned at the familiar, heavy weight. “My painting box?”
    His smile broadened. “I thought you’d might like to get a little work done. I packed my good camera, too.”
    I made a girly sound of joy. I peeled out of my disgusting jacket and helped Jeremy unload our supplies. As we worked, he explained that the main hotel was all locked up for the winter, so we weren’t allowed in there. They were coming to board up all of the cabins the following week, which was why we were allowed to sneak in after the seasonal closing. We had to cook for ourselves, since the chef was off somewhere warmer for the winter months, which was fine by Jeremy since the cabin came with a small kitchenette and it had a BBQ outside on its tiny, wooden patio.
    Jeremy climbed up on the wharf, moving with a