Jagged Pill (Broken Lives Book 3) by Marita A. Hansen

Author:Marita A. Hansen [Hansen, Marita A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: UNKNOWN
Published: 2017-04-28T16:00:00+00:00

11

Clara

I woke up in a room I didn’t recognise, not knowing how I got here. I sat up and looked around, the place definitely not Bazza’s house. I was on a double bed, with another one a few feet away. The other bed looked slept in, but it was empty. I pushed the covers off me and called out to Dante. No one answered. I called out again as I got up. Still no answer. I walked out of the room, entering a small lounge. There were a couple of threadbare couches, a TV, and a wall covered with graffiti. It was also lined with an array of worn out and newish-looking surfboards.

I stepped out through the sliding door and onto a veranda, blinking at what I saw. “Wow!” I said, in awe. A stunning beach spread out before me, as far as the eye could see. I had no idea which beach it was, other than it had to be on the west coast, because, unlike the calm east coast waters, the waves were rough. The wind was whipping them up, creating a surfer’s paradise.

I jumped off the veranda and onto the beach, the sand warm beneath my feet. The sun was set high, while the sky was clear. I called out, “Dante!” I went to shout his name again, but stopped. My heart leapt into my throat at the sight out on the waves. Dante was zipping through the waves on a surfboard, disappearing behind a massive one. He came out the other side, looking like a pro-surfer, his balance amazing. I watched in awe as he caught a new wave, riding it to shore. He jumped off the surfboard and hoisted it up under his arm. He was wearing a full black body suit, which showcased his amazing physique. With a wide smile, he whipped his wet hair off his face and came running towards me, looking like he was modelling for a photo shoot. He stopped in front of me and shook his hair out, laughing as I yelped from the cold spray.

I smacked his arm. “You did that on purpose!”

He continued laughing, the sound infectious. “And why wouldn’t I?”

I gave him another playful smack, unable to help smiling at him. “You were amazing out there. Where’d you learn to surf like that? You looked like a pro.”

His smile disappeared. “My uncle Luka.”

“Why are you scowling?”

“Do you remember driving up here?”

I shook my head.

“Well, on the way, I found out that my uncle Luka is Marino’s real dad.”

I didn’t even blink, the news hardly surprising. “Well, that explains why he doesn’t look like Bazza.”

“I never really thought ’bout it, though I’m kinda surprised my uncle didn’t take Marino. He’s great with kids.” He looked past me. “Have ya seen Marino? He wuzn’t here when I woke, though the car is.”

I shook my head again.

“What ’bout China?”

“Nope, woke up alone. What’s up? You look like you ate something really bad.”

“They had a massive fight last night, broke up.

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