My Husband Gave Her My Parachute Chapter 04

South Bay Resort Marina.

A white catamaran lay beside the breakwater. The sea breeze stirred the small flag on its mast.

Ryan took off his skydiving jumpsuit and tossed it onto a deck lounger. He held a glass of iced

lemonade, glancing out to sea.

Mia came out of the cabin carrying sunscreen spray. She lifted it and sprayed around his neck.

“You were yelling so loud on the radio you nearly deafened me.”

She moved closer to him.

“You know Claire. She won’t admit she overreacted. She probably pulled her reserve ages ago

and landed on some sandbar. She’s just keeping quiet to make you worry until you go

apologize.”

Ryan rubbed his temples, his frown never easing.

He glanced at the dive watch on his wrist.

Forty minutes had passed since I’d left the plane.

According to the plan, I should have reached the search-and-rescue area at sea within thirty minutes, even allowing for drift after my chute opened.

But only a few jet skis crisscrossed the bay. No parachute canopy appeared.

His hand wavered. Ice water spilled from the glass onto the back of his hand.

Ryan took out his phone and dialed my number.

The call didn’t connect. An automated message said I was temporarily unavailable.

He smacked the phone down on the table.

“She’s thirty years old and still thinks ignoring my calls will make me apologize first. Doesn’t

she always know what everyone else should do? Now she won’t say a word.”

Mia sat beside him with a plate of sliced watermelon. She picked up a piece and held it to his

lips.

“Every time you compliment me, she criticizes us. The more you call, the more she’ll think

ignoring you will make you apologize. When she walks back soaking wet and shivering, she’ll

see how ridiculous this is.”

Ryan bit into the watermelon, but all he tasted was bitterness.

Claire’s last few words kept repeating in his head.

“This is Black Hawk Canyon, and there’s nothing below but loose rock.”

“And I hope you never get another night’s sleep.”

Her voice had been too calm.

She hadn’t cried or kept asking for help. She’d stopped trying to convince him. She didn’t even

seem to expect him to do anything anymore.

Ryan suddenly stood up and went to the boat’s radio console. He grabbed the microphone.

“Rescue Boat Two, give me a search update.”

Static crackled, then rescue worker Daniel Reed’s voice came through.

“Ryan, we’ve circled the planned landing zone three times without finding even a scrap of parachute fabric. Claire’s usually the most accurate with her landings. Could the wind have pushed her out to sea today?”

Ryan tightened his grip on the microphone.

“Have you contacted the offshore patrol boats?”

“Yes, and the Coast Guard’s helping with the search. So far, there’s no sign of her within three nautical miles beyond South Bay. No equipment floating on the surface, either.”

Ryan’s breath caught,

He turned to the flight chart on the cabin wall.

A thick red line crossed the coastline, marking the planned route.

A gray area lay less than ten kilometers north of that line. A bold red warning border

surrounded it.

The club’s internal zone code: G304.

Black Hawk Canyon. An uninhabited expanse of bare rock.