The RX Factor Read Online Free Page A

de time?"
    "Right now we are assuming both her aunt and uncle were on board when it blew. Jordan is beyond distraught."
    "Don't sound like dere's much of a chance dey survived."
    "From the force of the explosion, I would say zero chance if they were on board."
    "Thanks for the information, Ryan. My boat's pulling up now. I will get in touch as soon as we have scoured the area."
    On his way to meet the boat, Franklin stopped to offer his condolences to Jordan.
    "Ms. Carver, my name is Franklin Rolle. I'm with Bahamian Air Sea Rescue. Ryan explained what happened. I'm terribly sorry. Me and my men will be going out now and searching the area and I will get in touch with you as soon as I know more."
    Jordan had a blank face and did not respond to Franklin's statement. But as Ryan approached and Franklin hurried off to meet up with the BASRA boat, Jordan snapped. "I can't stand here and do nothing. I'm going back out there." She headed for the dinghy.
    Knowing the authorities wouldn't let them return to the blast site by themselves, Ryan took hold of her arm and called out to Franklin. "Hold on. We're going with you."
    Franklin slowed his stride. Glancing at Jordan's distraught face, he gave in. "I shouldn't, but let's go."
    A few minutes later, they were bobbing over the grave of the
Bulls and Bears,
surrounded by wreckage. Spars, ropes, and shards of teak decking littered the sea in an ever-expanding field of debris. They cruised back and forth through the floating remnants for over an hour. Jordan's eyes scanned the water with desperation.
    Finally, Franklin announced, "There's nothing else we can do tonight. At first light I'll have divers in the water."
    Jordan glared at him. "Why can't they get started now?"
    Franklin shook his head. "Can't see nothing down there, Ms. Carver." He peered at Jordan before shooting a glance at Ryan. "I think it would be best if we meet here tomorrow, first light."
    Jordan was unresponsive. Returning to shore, they disembarked before Ryan turned to her and said, "Look, it's too late for you to find a hotel. You can stay at my place. We'll come back out together in the morning."
    Jordan's face was blank, and he wondered if she had heard him. He gave her a gentle shake. "Is that okay?"
    Almost in a whisper, she said, "You're too kind," before turning one last time toward the harbor.
***
    It wasn't until he opened his front door, switched on the lights, and led Jordan inside that Ryan realized how out of control his life had become. Clothes and other detritus covered almost every flat surface, dirty dishes were piled high in the sink, and two bags of trash lingered in the kitchen. As Jordan stood blinking in the light, Ryan swept through the room and snatched up as much as he could, carrying it off to the laundry room.
    Back in the living room, he found Jordan rooted to the same spot. Pointing down the hallway, he said, "The second door on the left is the guest bedroom. You can bunk there. I'll get you a bathrobe." As he moved off, he assured her, "It's a clean one."
    When Ryan returned, he handed her the robe and a folded towel, and pointed out the bathroom. "First door on the left." He noticed she had some soot on her face. "You got some, uh . . . ," he brushed at his face as if to mirror her own. "I mean, there's a shower in there if you want one."
    She moved without a word, robe and towel in arm, to the bathroom. Ryan heard the shower running and decided to prepare her a nightcap— nothing heavy on booze but something soothing to help her sleep. He settled on an Irish coffee. He found a crumpled bag marked
decaf
on a shelf hidden under a stack of assorted coffee filters that didn't fit his machine. The beans were stale, but it wouldn't matter. Hot coffee with a dash of whiskey, a splash of cream, and a generous spoonful of sugar would help Jordan take the first step on the path to restoring her sanity.
A path I know all too well.
    When she emerged in the bathrobe, her hair damp, he handed her