Runaways
I could have been a good boy and done what I was told. But that wasn't my style. I just kept paddling, straight into the morning sun.
From behind the mirrored lenses of my sunglasses, I snuck yet another peek at the most beautiful girl I had ever seen.
Her wet hair was slicked back from her face, a white towel was draped across her tanned shoulders, and her long bare legs were stretched out in front of her. Whoever she was, she was breathtaking. And there she was, in a red bikini, sitting three plastic lounge chairs away from me.
Miré en dirección al mostrador y vi a un policía parado de espaldas a mí.
Me quedé sin aire y las piernas no me respondían. El policía dio media vuelta y ya no tuve dónde esconderme. Apreté a Briana contra mi pecho. Era mía y de nadie más. No iba a dejar que me la quitaran.
The woman's dress was ripped and her tears made white streaks in the dirt on her face. She stared into the mass of jumbled lumber. Allie could hear a baby wailing from somewhere in the mess.
