Read Undertow for Free Online Page A

on her heels to face her mother, cowering by the door. “What the hell, Mom. Why didn’t you tell me you had a boyfriend?” She glowered at her. “When were you going to tell me, ever?”
    Her mother straightened her body and sputtered, “I’m sorry, honey, really, I . . .”
    George looked first at her mother, sympathy softening his eyes, then at Marissa. He gave her a guarded smile. “I’m going to go find my shoes now, I think. It is such a pleasure to meet you, Marissa.” He glanced again at her mother and strode out, disappearing down the hall.
    “Mari, I have a life, too, you know.” Her mother’s voice was firm. “I don’t have to consult you for permission to date.”
    “Is that what this is? Dating?” Marissa said. “And stop calling me Mari. You know I hate that.” She was acting like a petulant child, but she didn’t care. Her attention was wandering again already. Something about the man’s eyes, gray blue like the sea . . . .

 
     
     
    Nine
     
    A sleep in her mother’s guest room, Marissa was trapped in the dream. She was at that tantalizing moment she never reached beyond, leaving her frustrated each morning when she awoke and realized she’d gotten no closer to reliving her rescue. No closer to Him. She writhed in her sleep.
     
    Soon, she would die. With this certainty the consuming panic ebbed away and peace took its place. Marissa could no longer forestall her fate. She was through with the effort of trying to stay alive, of trying to force her frozen limbs to propel her to the surface.
    Surrendering, Marissa sensed the implosion about to occur. The heat in her core was draining away; her body was becoming as cold as the deep ocean water. The transformation, fast though it must be, transpired in an incremental fashion, each cell exchanging its warmth for cold, like a chunk of wood crystallizing bit by bit until at last it was petrified. While Marissa succumbed to the icy waters, a strange fire burned in her lungs. They ached for the oxygen that would never come.
    Marissa observed these phenomena as a scientist might study the twitching muscle fibers of some unfortunate laboratory animal in response to electrodes shocking its neurons. Curious, but detached. Unconcerned. Having capitulated to her impending death, the pain receded as she was drawn to the stream of memories playing before her now. Scenes cut back and forth across the short history of her life like a film produced by an amateur cameraman.
    She saw herself, ringlets bouncing as she skipped toward her father. He’d just stepped from his car; he slammed the door and smiled at her. Daddy, with his arms flung wide to catch her. Another scene: Marissa, sitting cross-legged on her bed, tears streaming down her face as she stroked Angel’s long white fur and wished that Bethany was still alive.
    In a kaleidoscope of memories, the facets of her life paraded before her. Tottering across the room in her first pair of heels, trying to appear elegant as she greeted her prom date; vomiting from her first bottle of wine, shame burning more than the acrid fluid in her throat; standing on stage with her high school choir under the brilliant lights which blinded her to the audience; kissing Drake for the first time, then kissing him over and over again.
    New lips, soft and silken, pressed against her, insistent. They pried hers apart, forced her mouth open. Fused with hers. Heat filled her mouth, her lungs.
    Curiously, this made the crushing pain stop, as if some evil spirit had escaped her. Marissa felt weightless. She was floating in the abyss.
    A new pressure, unlike that of the ocean, blanketed her in warmth. The lips were still on hers, delectable and nurturing. Marissa wondered at these new sensations. Was this death, then?
    Suddenly, her body torpedoed through the water, parting the liquid curtains. Despite the speed she was moving, she felt relaxed and serene. It was though she was transported across a river while lying tucked