Page 99 of Mark

“We aren’t that lucky,” Hayden yells out.

“Daughter, get out of this sea of death,” he wails. “Save yourself. It’s not too late.”

Hayden snorts as I take another slow step back to shore. I don’t want to disturb the stingrays around me, or accidentally step on one. “Dad, they sense movement. You moving like your arse is being electrocuted is not helping.”

He freezes, his legs wrapped around my dad’s neck, his hands gripping my dad’s forehead. “Don’t move, Mav. Don’t move!”

“I am going to drown you,” Dad grits out, then bends at the knee, submerging into the water.

Max’s eyes widen a second before he starts to freak out, flapping in the water like a toddler learning to swim.

“Oh fuck!” I whisper, which has Freya turning around.

“Why are you moving away?”

Because we are surrounded by a shark’s cousin.

Because I don’t fancy being stung.

And because our instructor warned us about respecting the stingrays’ home.

“If you knew what was good for you, you would do the same,” I warn.

She arches her eyebrow in denial, but then Hayden reaches out for her, taking her hand. “I’d listen to Mark for once. We need to move.”

“Why?” she asks, stepping back.

“Max,” I answer as Hayden replies, “Dad.”

“Okay, you are officially freaking me out,” she announces, and when she gets closer, I tag her hand, pulling her the rest of the way.

“Put your legs around me,” I order, as I watch Max try to cling to the instructor, who is yelling at him to calm down.

It’s safer for everyone to give Max his space. Maybe if I knew the instructor, I would be more inclined to stay and help.

Or maybe not.

*** *** ***

I smile as Mum lowers a plate of food down on the small table next to my sun lounger. I reach for the cheese toastie, my stomach rumbling with hunger. “Thanks, Mum.”

Hayden snorts when Mum leaves. “Thanks, Mum,” she repeats, using a squeaky voice.

I smirk. “Jealous?”

“Dude, you are in your twenties and your mum still brings your food,” she mocks.

“So you are jealous?” I repeat.

Her shoulders drop. “Yes. My mum barely finishes making a plate before my dad is there demolishing it.”

I chuckle. “How is Uncle Max doing?”

She rolls her eyes as she sinks back into Clay on their lounger. “Milking it. He has the staff bringing him in trays of food.”

“I thought it was a superficial sting?” Hope asks, glancing up from her book.

“He’s still saying it was the stingray that stung him,” Hayden admits. “The jellyfish barely touched him. There’s not even a wound. There’s just a red mark.”