Poseidon (Contemporary Mythos Book 5)
Poseidon: Chapter 8

“Poseidon” scrunched his nose and shuffled away, slurring words at a group of young men laughing and pointing at him.

“Simon?” I couldn’t help the insanely wide grin pulling at my cheeks. “What are you doing here?”

Meg waved at him before hanging an arm on my shoulder and resting her chin on it. “Remember when he and I exchanged e-mails about the logo files? He asked me what tournament you were in, and so—I told him.”

I let my jaw slack. “You two conspired behind my back?”

“It was for the most honorable of reasons, I assure you.” His grin sparkled as he pressed a hand to his chest.

“I’m happy you came, but you didn’t need to. I know this scene can’t be much your deal?”

Meg playfully punched my shoulder.

“You making assumptions about hunky surfers again?” He pointed at me with his thumb and forefinger.

I crossed my arms. “Hunky?”

“Am I wrong?”

His eyes never failed to captivate. This time it was enough to make me forget how to speak, so I shook my head.

“I got us seats next to each other.” Meg shoved a ticket at Simon. “Cool with you?”

“Absolutely. We can look clueless yet excited together.” He curled the ticket into his palm.

“Bruh, you’re Simon Thalassa. I don’t believe this,” a thin, younger man with auburn hair past his shoulders wearing a Halo t-shirt and cargo pants said from beside us.

Not missing a beat, Simon jutted his hand for a shake. “Indeed I am. How’s it hangin’?”

“Dude, an honor to meet you. Truly. Been following your surf competitions since I was a kid.”

Meg and I didn’t exist in this man’s eyes as he remained fixed on Simon.

“Appreciate the support.”

“Anyway, sorry to have bothered you.”

“Have fun.” Simon threw up a “hang loose” gesture with his thumb and pinky, the fan responding in kind with a wide smile.

“Even recognizable at gaming tournaments, huh?” I chewed on my thumbnail.

“Hey, I’m as surprised as you are. And do you think people realize telling them you’ve been into something since you were a kid is both flattering and depressing all in one sentence?” He let out a throaty chuckle, rubbing the back of his buzz-cut head.

I smiled, but it faded as soon as I caught sight of the time. “Simon, I appreciate that you came, but I need to head to bed. I’ll look for you in the crowd tomorrow.”

“Should I bring one of those foam fingers? An air horn, maybe?” He slid his hands in his pockets.

“Just yourself and a set of lungs to cheer me on, Big Guy.”

“Can do.”

Our eyes locked, swirling my stomach into a series of tidal waves and sinkholes. Grabbing Meg by her jacket, I forced her to force me from the ballroom.

“You didn’t want to hang out with him more? I’m confused.” Meg ruffled her hair.

“I need to focus. And he distracts me in the best ways possible but still…distracts me.” I rubbed between my eyebrows.

“You got it bad, my friend. It’s great to see you this—fluttery over someone.”

I was a ravenous humpback whale with an endless appetite for Simon krill.

Finals day.

My nerves and excitement fought a deathmatch within my stomach. The arena had transformed overnight into a battleground spectacle fit for gaming. A center circular stage housed six walled stations with chairs, monitors, and headsets. Stadium seating surrounded the stage, filled to the brim with hundreds of fans. Jumbo screens hung from the ceiling, switching feeds from each of our screens or shots of our faces. Whenever they’d show me, I would more than likely be furrowing my brow with my mouth wide open the entire time.

I wrung my hands together as the game’s menu theme music blared through the arena with resounding bass drums and ethereal violin and cello. As the announcer called us to our stations, I scanned the seats, spotting Meg and Simon sitting dead center, smiling at me. Simon sat up straight, and his grin melted into something else entirely as we caught each other’s gazes.

Before a match, I always built myself up until I felt like I could take on the world. But that look in Simon’s eyes—told me I could own the world.

The nerves flittered away, and I took my seat, putting on metaphorical blinders from the rest of the arena as I slid my headset on. The crowd already went wild, but I’d drown them out to concentrate. Announcers would talk strategy and segments as the game progressed, but we wouldn’t hear any of it.

The game began, and hours went by of sword slashing, trident striking, mythical sea creatures we’d have to kill before returning to terminating each other. It became abundantly clear that the player to beat was PudgyPop, a male veteran pro-gamer at the ripe age of twenty—that’s right, twenty. He led the charge with six more terminations than me and was only three away from winning it all. I’d yet to run into him in-game, and planned to avoid him at all costs. Being the last kill someone needed to win and causing me to lose the title? No thanks.

I’d done well not coming face-to-face with Geyser either until we neared the end. When his character stepped from behind a tree, I felt my cheeks warm. We were tied with kills, and PudgyPop only had one remaining, which meant whoever won this duel—would get second place. Processing his weak points from the several times I’d fought him, I was able to take him out within thirty seconds, with Pudgy taking first place. I finished second, but more importantly, I beat Geyser—again.

They called the three of us to a raised podium stage to announce the first annual Tides of Atlantis Tournament winners. After shaking hands with Pudgy, congratulating him, I bolted from the stage to Meg’s awaiting arms.

“You freaking did it. I’m so proud you wiped the floor with that Geyser prick.” She playfully slapped my shoulder. “Too bad you didn’t get first, though.”

“Pudgy is good. Really good. He may even get a sponsorship out of that performance. But, it doesn’t matter. Second place is more than enough money for a cruise.”

Simon approached with his hands in his pockets and a cheeky smile. “That was incredibly hot to watch.”

“Oh, yeah?” I sucked my bottom lip as I bumped my knuckle against his arm.

“I especially love your concentration face.” He lifted his hands like he held a controller, furrowed his brow, and stuck his tongue to the corner of his mouth.

Laughing, I glanced at Meg before turning back to him. “I don’t stick my tongue out.”

“Uh, you do, Cor.” Meg shrugged.

“You do. Honestly, I don’t think you could make an ugly face if you tried.” Simon chuckled, his green eyes twinkling as he gazed down at me.

I displayed several different expressions on my face, including going cross-eyed, making the tendons in my neck bulge, and puffing my cheeks like a blowfish.

Meg and Simon shook their heads.

“Still disgustingly adorable,” Meg mumbled.

Simon lowered his lips to my ear and whispered, “Have fun on your cruise, Sea Jewel. Call me when you get back, hm?” He touched the crook of my arm, a brief brush of skin that felt like grazing the body of a stingray.

He walked past me, stealing a glance over his shoulder right before exiting the arena. The man had a presence about him that could make the ocean itself bend to his will. And I apparently would be floating right along with it.

Meg whisked through the options of onboard activities, and when neither pool volleyball nor trivia struck her fancy, we headed straight for the casino. We sat in adjacent stools, the ship having shoved off hours prior. I played with the strap of my aquamarine maxi dress, bobbing the top sandal-covered foot of my crossed legs as I repeatedly pressed the “go” button on the machine. Various fruits lined up and exploded on the screen, occasionally adding twenty-five cents to my total before being taken away in the next round.

“Whatever happened to pulling a lever? This feels too much like a video game with none of the skill and all the luck,” I mumbled, popping another quarter into the machine.

“Welcome to the twenty-first century, my friend.” Meg’s leather bomber jacket creaked every time she raised her arm. “We could always try our hand at roulette.”

“I would have virtually no idea what I’m doing, but I’d gladly blow on dice for you and watch.” I smiled at my best friend and hit the “Cash Out” button with extra enthusiasm. After ripping the exposed ticket from its slot, I shoved it into a pocket of my dress.

Meg fake cried, dabbing a knuckle at the corner of each eye. “You’d be my Lady Luck? How thoughtful.”

I looped my arm with hers, and without batting an eyelash, she approached the first open spot at a roulette table. Shoving my clutch under my arm, I snagged two watered-down cocktail drinks from a tray as the waiter passed.

Meg slid the “cash out” ticket from the slot machines to the dealer, and he handed over the same amount in chips. Sipping on my rum and coke, I spied the table as if I knew how the game worked. Sure, there were black and red and numbers, but all the squares intended for player bets? No clue.

After Meg made her bet, she pushed her palms against the table’s edge, idly tapping her boot. I slid my foot over hers, suggesting she tried not to show her nerves on her sleeve without using any words. Elbowing her, I held the drink out with a grin, wiggling it.

The small white ball sprung over the spinning wheel, pinging and panging as it bounced, finally landing on a black number seventeen.

Meg threw her non-drink-holding hand into a fist in the air. “I didn’t lose any money that round, so it’s a start.”

“What’s your criteria for stopping for the night? Profiting?” I sipped my drink, eyeing a man over the rim who was staring at Meg’s butt in her skinny leather pants. And he wasn’t trying to hide it.

“Profiting.” She snorted. “That’s rare. But I make a point to never walk out of a casino without at least half of what I started with, ideally as much as I started with.”

The man licked his lips before swatting the man next to him in the stomach and starting a strut aimed at Meg.

I wrapped my arm around her lower back, resting my chin on her shoulder, hoping he’d take a hint.

Meg raised a brow at me. “Unwanted suitor?”

“Mmhm. Six o’clock and currently retreating.”

“I shall do the same for you on this trip if you’re fully invested in Mr. Surfer, but in the meantime, if you don’t mind,” Meg started before holding dice up that the dealer slid her.

I blew on them with a grin. “Yes. I’m invested.”

She played for another twenty minutes, winning all of her money back plus a hundred extra dollars. After cashing in her chips, she turned to me with a wink. “I know what you want to do.”

“Oh? Think you know me that well?”

“Topdeck. The view of the ocean must be crazy up there.”

I played with my fingers behind my back, attempting to hide my antsy fidgeting. “I’m sure it’s quite pleasant.”

“Oh my God.” She rolled her eyes and grabbed me by the crook of the elbow. “Come on, you.”

After climbing the stairs several levels, the sight of the moon reflecting off that dark rippling water surrounding us drowned any breath before it had a chance to escape my throat.

“The views in Pensacola are amazing, but this—surrounded by water and not a shoreline insight is another matter entirely.” I leaned my hips on the railing and threw my arms out to either side of me. I was Kate Winslet, and this was my Titanic moment.

“This is rather majestic. I have to admit.” Meg joined me at the railing, bending forward and resting her elbows on it.

My phone buzzed in my clutch, and I jumped, snatching it.

Simon: Enjoying yourself? I’m sure the views are amazing from the top deck.

Furrowing my brow, I did a quick turn, half expecting to see him on board. He’d shown up at the tournament without a word until he was there. I wouldn’t put anything past him now.

After snapping a quick photo of the ocean from my point of view, I replied to him, attaching it.

Me: You must be psychic.

Simon: ☹ Aw. No selfie with the ocean behind you?

Biting my lip, I quickly peeked at Meg, who was distracted by the view. Flashing a pearly grin, I held the phone out in front of me and snapped the photo, sending it to him.

Meg snorted.

I whipped my head in her direction. “What?”

“It’s fun seeing you revert to what I’d imagine is a teenage version of yourself when you like someone.” Meg bumped her shoulder against mine.

Heat pooled in my cheeks as I bit back another smile.

Simon: Positively gorgeous. 😊

Whether he referred to the ocean or me, or both, would remain a mystery. The butterflies still performed a symphony in my belly all the same.

“Time will tell but, I do have a soft spot for this guy.” Curling my hair over one ear, I slipped the phone back in my clutch and lifted my gaze in time to see dolphins leaping through the water. I slapped Meg’s arm and pointed. “Look over there.”

Meg gasped and slid closer to me. “How cool. I’ll never get tired of seeing dolphins in the wild. They look so carefree.”

I’ve loved all aquatic animals throughout my life, but dolphins had a special place in my heart. Meg had it right. They were carefree, jovial, and playful—everything I wanted to be and more.

“How many sharks have we cage dived with and still never swam with dolphins?” I rested my head on her shoulder, still watching the pod of four as they dove in and out of the water, communicating to each other in squeaks.

“Something we’ll need to rectify when we get back.”

Letting out a contented sigh, I stood and faced her. “What would you like to do tomorrow?”

“I’m not a hard woman to please, Cor. So long as it isn’t something I’ll embarrass myself in public, I’m game for anything.” She clutched the railing and leaned back, swinging her hips to and fro.

I clicked my nails against the metal, turning my gaze away, and contemplated my next words. “Did you—happen to see the flyer in the lobby? The one for the LGBTQ brunch?”

She raised one brow. “I did. But dismissed it considering that’d mean ditching you.”

“It’s not ditching me. We’re still on the same boat and can meet up later. We have days on this cruise, Meg.” I tugged on her jacket. “You might meet someone.”

“But what the hell are you going to do then?” She hunched forward, resting her forearms on the railing and tapping her non-existent fingernails together.

“Sunbathe on this deck. I could be out here for hours and be perfectly happy.”

The sun warming my cheeks, light whispers of the roiling water as the ship’s engine propelled us through it, and the echoes of birds cawing as they flew overhead.

“Are you sure?” Meg squinted at me as if the sun were in her eyes.

I patted my hands against the metal to the tune of Beyond the Sea. “Yes. You’ll have fun. I’m sure of it.”

“Thanks, Cory.” Meg side-hugged me, and we stood in silence, watching the ocean.

I’d been lying on the top deck for the better part of an hour, soaking the sunrays and rotating. I lay on my stomach, and a buzz vibrated my clutch. Resting my chin on my forearm, I smiled to myself. Either I’d begun to expect Simon’s texts, or I recently developed a form of ESP. After swiping the screen to unlock it, my grin widened.

Simon: You can tell me to stop checking in on you every day at any point in time. You know that, right? 😉

I slid my sunglasses to my head.

Me: Would it scare you away if I said your texts are the highlight of my day?

Pinching my lips, I hovered my finger over the send button for an extra moment before pressing it.

Simon: Absolutely not. You don’t have some weird taxidermy collection hidden in a closet somewhere or something, right?

I laughed out loud, noticing the empty benches surrounding me on the deck for the first time. Completely alone and free to make an ass of myself as I pleased.

Me: I’m a conservationist. What do you think?

Simon: Had to check. 😉

A loud explosion sounded from nearby, echoing off the ship’s hull. I sat up with a gasp, clutching my phone to my chest to not drop it. Without thinking, I ran to the railing, searching in the direction of the disturbance.

Several motorboats bounced against the waves, speeding alongside the cruise liner. They all held large, slender devices in their hands but were too far away to make out what they were. A knot slowly coiled and tightened in my stomach.

Pirates.

I lost my footing as the ship lurched forward, picking up speed.

“Attention all passengers. If you are in your cabin, remain inside and do not leave until we give the clear. All others proceed to the lower decks immediately. This is not a drill,” a voice said over the loudspeakers.

My heart raced, and I stumbled backward, fumbling with my phone.

Me: Pirates.

Simon: Pirates? Pirates, what?

Surely the cruise ship would be able to outmaneuver speed boats. The boats drifted further away, the vessel gaining distance, and I let my tense shoulders drop. The faintest sight of several large octopus-like tentacles curled beneath the boats in a barrage of sea foam and waves, launching them faster through the water. I gripped the railing, breaths escaping me.

Simon: Cory, why did you say, pirates?

I blinked away water beads forming on my eyelashes and shot my attention to my phone, dropping to my knees and crawling out of sight.

Me: We’re about to be boarded.

Simon: What??? Find a place to hide, and do NOT leave for anything.

I slid my phone away and grabbed my tank top and shorts, slipping them on before crawling to the atrium.

Meg.

The anxiety roiling through me had me chilled and shaking.

They held the brunch on the opposite side of the ship, several floors down. I’d never make it to her in time.

Me: Meg, hide somewhere NOW. Don’t come looking for me.

Meg: Are you out of your fucking mind? I’m already on my way up to you.

“Shit. Shit. Shit.”

The blast of several water cannons firing from the ship roared all around me. After replaceing a suitable corner, I pushed my back to it and closed my eyes, trying to calm myself enough to breathe normally. I hoped the sound of blissful silence would follow the thwart of the cannons. Gunfire rattled off the metal walls around me, and I clapped my hands over my ears.

In a language I didn’t understand, various male voices spoke with urgency near the railing I’d been standing by only moments ago. I pressed my back to the wall as if it’d swallow me—shield me within its womb. The voices grew closer, and I shoved my mouth to my knees, suppressing the whimpers threatening to leak out.

A loud splash sounded, followed by one man yelling, several shots rang out, and I dropped to the floor, covering my head—thuds, screams, more gunfire, and then…silence.

The ship guards? Whoever it was, had no idea they saved me.

Slowly rising to my feet, I peered out the small circular window of the atrium door, my harsh breaths fogging it. Nothing. No men. No weapons. Simply a soaking wet deck.

“Cory?” Meg’s loud whispers seeped through the door behind me.

Staying on my knees, I reached for the door handle, cracking it. Meg crouched through the atrium, turning circles, looking for me.

“Meg,” I whispered back.

Meg’s eyes widened once she spotted me, tears welling in her eyes—a rarity for her. She dropped to her hands and knees, crawling to me.

“Are you alright?” She gripped my shoulder, tremors lacing her voice.

“I’m glad you’re here, Meg, but that was so stupid,” I chastised, fear coating my heart like hardened wax.

She furrowed her brow. “You can slap my hand later. I don’t know what I would’ve done if something happened to you and I wasn’t here.”

More male voices leaked through the door. I sucked in a breath and slid a hand over Meg’s mouth.

The language remained indecipherable, but I picked up one word—Skylla.

My hand fell away from Meg’s lips, limply landing in my lap. Why did I recognize that word?

The door flew open, and a man in a full ski mask, black jacket, pants, and boots, holding a rifle, grabbed me by the hair, hoisting me to my feet.

Meg stood with an outstretched arm. “Take me instead.”

The man babbled, waving the point of his weapon around. I winced at the pain surging through my skull from his death grip on my hair. I dug my nails into his hand in a panic, and he tugged harder.

“Please. Don’t hurt her,” Meg pleaded, holding her open palms up.

The man pointed down with the barrel, yelling over and over.

“Meg. Just do what he says. They’re probably looking for a ransom.” I’d gone beyond the point of fear. The anxiety ebbed away, replaced by numbness.

“Cory.” Meg’s voice cracked as she slowly sunk to her knees, her chest heaving.

“It’ll be alright, Meg.” Words meant to soothe us both—a hopeful declaration.

The corners of Meg’s jaw bobbed as we stared at each other. The man pulled me to the deck, shoving me against the railing. My phone flew from my pocket, crashing to the wooden planks, dislodging the battery, and cracking the screen. Four men huddled in a circle, shouting, pointing, and dragging hands over their mask-covered heads.

Water sloshed over the side of the deck, a mirage following—a flash that resembled the silhouette of a human being. The men turned on their heels in a panic, aiming their weapons. One man panicked, his trigger finger twitching, sending a bullet flying—straight into my shoulder.

The pain shot down my arm, and all I could hear was my heavy breathing as I leaned back, the world circling into chaos around me. The blue sky dipped into view as my head fell back, followed by the rest of me.

A man roared the word “no” into the wind as I fell and fell, splashing into the murky waters below. Darkness overtook me, and I sank, the depths opening their watery cold embrace to me. A jolt sprung through my chest. Visions warped through my mind like a slideshow gone maniacal. Each flash was of myself—but not. Me in the Middle Ages, my dark brown hair falling in wavy tendrils to my knees. The Roman Empire. A Highlands battleground. Norway. Colonial America. The Old West. The Roaring Twenties—my hair cropped short, a fringed dress hugging my curves in a speakeasy.

My eyes flew open, and I gasped, sucking in water through my lungs like the gills of a fish.

I remember.