I fingered the sheath on my upper thigh, which held the knife Grandpa had given me right before he went into the institution. I’d wondered at the gift at the time; he’d really never bothered with me before. But when I’d told him that I was going diving he’d been frantic for me to have the knife.

“Here, here. Take it,” he’d said, nearly slicing me in his eagerness to give me it. The knife had a bone handle its blade about eight inches long with intricate engravings swirling down the back of the razor sharp edge.

“Always take it with you when you go in the water. Promise me. That’s when the monsters come,” Grandpa had said.

I’d taken the knife and given him my promise. It was always the same with him. The monsters he saw, he feared they would come for the rest of us. So even if I wasn’t his favourite, it was better—according to him—that I survive and the monsters die. Yup, he did say that to my face. I shook my head, scattering the thoughts.

I hated to admit it, but I took comfort in the knife and did indeed take it with me diving. It had saved me once already. I grit my teeth as memories rushed through my mind and threatened to suck me into a panic attack. Using slow even breaths I managed to get my heart rate to a normal level. Okay, almost normal. Those memories needed to stay in the past, where they belonged. If only it was that easy.

Though this was what Ashling wanted, it was not my idea of a good time. Surfing on the west coast of Vancouver Island was even less of a good idea, at least to me. The water was cold, even through the heat of the summer, and it was known for its riptides and jagged rocks as much as its surfing. And yet, here we were. I shook my head, curls catching in the wind, and tangling into knots I knew would be a pain to get out later.

“Come on, Quinn, that water is great and the waves are bitch’n!” Ashling yelled. I stared at her out in the water, sitting on her surf board, unruly strawberry blond curls escaping her ponytail and dancing in the wind. She hadn’t even put on the surfboard leash, cocky little thing that she was.

I waved at her and forced a smile to my lips. I wouldn’t ruin this day for her; this was her moment, her celebration.

“I hate this,” I muttered under my breath.

“Then why are you here?” A strong male voice asked me. It was our instructor, Luke. Damn, the voice I’d heard on the phone more than matched the guy it was attached to. Rich and sensual.