Wow, I have over a hundred reviews! This is the first time that's ever happened for one of my stories, thanks so much to everyone who reviewed. This is the last chapter, after many long months (the better part of a year...); thanks so much to everyone who read this story and reviewed, it means so much to me! So, without further ado, on we go...

Chapter Twenty-One

The Love of a Hero

Without a word to his mother, Seth hurried downstairs, retrieving his skateboard and ducking out the front door in what seemed to him to be one complete motion. In seconds, he was drenched by the torrent of rain that seemed to be pouring from the open sky, nearly blinding him as he hurried down the driveway, ignoring the way the wind whipped the rain in his face.

In the back of his mind, Seth knew exactly where to go and he didn't even stop to think about his destination, traveling the road he had taken many times before. The streets were empty, the residents of New Port Beach kept inside as though they would melt if the rain touched their blemish free skin and perfect hair. Seth blinked the water off his eyelids, shaking his head as he continued on, his skateboard bumping over rocks and holes in the pavement.

Overhead, a streak of jagged lightning sliced through the sky, followed closely by thunder so loud it seemed to shake everything around. Seth chanced a look at the sky, hoping that he was wrong about where Summer had gone, hoping that he wouldn't find her where he knew he would. Lightning flashed again, seeming much closer now then it had before and he looked away quickly, squinting his eyes against the rain as he concentrated on the road in front of him.

Soon, the New Port marina came into view and Seth could see men struggling to tie the boats up tighter so the sea didn't drag them out. He hopped off his skateboard, ignoring it for the most part as it skidded to a stop, his attention on the sea in front of him. The storm had created a mass of waves, cresting ten feet in the air before they crashed back down, only to rise again in a crushing cycle.

Seth had been caught out in a storm like this years ago, before he'd become an experienced sailor and never wanted to recreate the experience; it had been a deep-sea fishing trip with his father and one of Sandy's friends from work. The boat had nearly been shattered by the waves before the captain had managed to dock it and there had been times when Seth thought that he was going to drown for sure. There had been times when the only thing he could see were those rising waves, ready to swallow the boat, him included.

Pushing those memories aside, Seth looked away from the crashing swells and began scanning the row of boats in front of him. He saw mostly yachts, rocking in the water, tugged by the waves. One sailboat still had its sails unfurled but there was little left of the stretched material now.

Seth, however, couldn't see one of the only catamarans in the harbor: his Summer Breeze. He felt his heart leap in his chest, his body slowly becoming icy as he hurried toward the space where he usually docked the catamaran. The ropes that had tied her to the dock had been carelessly thrown onto the wood and the boat was gone.

"Summer!" Seth shouted, lifting his gaze toward the ocean, knowing that shouting was useless. The wind pulled his words away before even he had the chance to really hear them; he couldn't see Summer from where he stood, couldn't see the catamaran either and he prayed that was just because she was farther out, not because there was nothing left to see. "Summer!" He couldn't stop himself from shouting again.

Seth turned away, his mind racing, trying desperately to think of a plan of action before it was much too late. Summer most have taken the boat out soon after she'd run away from home and the storm had risen up shortly afterwards. Please, he thought feverishly as he hurried down the dock toward the coast guard's station, let her be okay. Please don't take her from me.

After several moments of pounding on the wooden door of the coast guard's hut, Seth realized that there was no one inside. Cursing under his breath, he turned toward the ocean again, where the surf was steadily getting worse, as it would for hours even after the storm had gone. If the coast guard wasn't around, he was going to have to take matters into his own hands.

Seth picked his boat carefully, choosing one of the few motorized fishing boats, used solely for the purpose of getting inexperienced sailors into deeper waters. He un-tethered the boat, pushing off with his foot as he climbed into the damp boat, heading toward the back. Seth pushed the motor into the water, praying that the captain kept up with the gas inside, and pulled the cord; the motor coughed and fell silent. "Come on!" Seth snapped as he pulled again with as much force as he could.

The motor roared to life, the boat swinging to the right, the nose bumping aside the side of another boat beside it. Seth hurried away from the motor and toward the steering wheel, grabbing it to keep the boat from running into another else. Putting the boat into reverse, he slowly backed away from the docks, spinning the boat into the slamming waves.

The waves slammed into the hull of the boat, threatening to toss it over and Seth gritted his teeth, squinting his eyes against the salt water that splashed against his face. It was impossible to see anything in the churning sea, nothing but waves and foam. Blinking, he leaned forward, attempting to peer through the dimness around him.

"Summer!" Seth shouted again, as loudly as he could, attempting to be heard over the crashing waves. "Please, Summer..." He couldn't see anything and he was slowly developing the feeling that there was nothing to see, that he wasn't going to find Summer and the catamaran because he was already much too late.

Seth turned the boat so that he could no longer see the harbor, heading in the same direction he had taken Summer several nights before, toward the coast where they'd had their picnic. He was running out of ideas and he knew that going toward the coast was his last hope, his last ditch effort before admitting that he was too late. But, even as he thought this, he knew that he could never admit that Summer was gone.

A wave crashed against the side, causing the boat to lurch to the right, water and foam spilling onto the deck. Seth had started to shiver, soaked to the bone, feeling as though there was no hope of ever being dry again. Shaking his head to shed some of the water that had been dripping down his curls, he squinted again, swallowing and hoping that he had missed something before, that he hadn't been looking hard enough.

The boat lurched again, nearly knocking Seth off his feet but he held tightly to the wheel in his hands, keeping the boat on course, not even bothering to check the navigational equipment. Summer didn't have any such equipment, so it wouldn't do him any good to try and figure out where she might be headed.

A swell broke against the front of the boat, momentarily blinding Seth, forcing him to shut his eyes against the assault of the salt water. The boat's bow was in the air for a moment, flattering without the support of the water beneath it; it crashed down again, knocking Seth to the deck, his fingers slipping from the slick wheel.

Seth coughed, spitting out what little water had gone through his nose and opened his eyes once more, unable to see much beyond the bow. When he stood, gaining control of the wheel once again, he could barely see the vague outline of something solid several yards in front of him.

When he had been eight-years-old, his parents had decided that the Summer Breeze would be the perfect present for a young boy in New Port Beach and ever since that day, he'd been familiar with every inch of the catamaran. And so, it was easy for Seth to recognize the tiny boat even now, in the crashing waves and stormy atmosphere and he felt his heart take a leap in his chest. The Summer Breeze didn't look brand new, but she looked as though she was holding her own in the storm; as he swung the boat in that direction, he hoped that Summer was holding up as well.

As the motor boat grew closer, Seth tried to pick Summer out, but couldn't see her among the swells and mist. He prayed that didn't mean that she wasn't around to see. "Summer!" He shouted, feeling his voice growing hoarse as he shouted. There was no reply, no movement and Seth found himself holding his breath, praying without even realizing it. "Summer!"

Seth exhaled when Summer lifted her head and he saw that she had been lying on the deck of the catamaran, curled in the fetal position, wet hair plastered to her face, clothes soaked, shaking. He felt like crying with relief; Summer was all right, she was all right!

For a moment, Summer didn't seem to remember where she was, or even why she had lifted her head, squinting her eyes against the burning salt water, trying to peer through the storm. When she saw Seth standing at the bow of the motor bow, her eyes opened wide and filled with tears. "Cohen!" She cried, her relief and even happiness evident in her words. She lurched to her feet, extending one arm in his direction, as though expecting him to be able to pull her right off the flimsy catamaran.

Seth smiled in relief, gently steering the motor boat closer to the Summer Breeze, careful not to upset the water anymore then it already was. If Summer was knocked into the waves, he might no be able to find her so easily again.

When he was close enough, Seth abandoned the wheel and hurried toward the bow of the ship, leaning across the rusting metal guard rail and reaching out for Summer's hand. His relief grew when he felt her fingers, shaking and damp, close around his own, holding him tightly for fear of letting go.

Seth reached out with his other hand, taking Summer's other arm, and instructed her of where to put her feet so that she won't slip as she got into the motor boat. As soon as she was on the deck, Summer collapsed against him, burying her face in his chest, her shoulders shaking with sobs. Seth wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly against him. "What were you doing?" He questioned, voice barely heard above the raging storm. "What were you thinking?" Seth knew that the answers didn't really matter.

Summer kept her face pressed against his shoulder, shaking in his arms. "I don't know." She answered, her voice low and shivering. "I was so scared, I don't know what happened."

Seth held her, stroking her wet hair, pulling it away from her face. "It's okay." He assured her, kissing her cold forehead. "You scared me, I didn't know if I could find you." Even though Summer was all right, safely in his arms, it still turned his stomach to think about what could have happened to her.

Summer looked up at him. "I knew you would find me." She told him, looking into his eyes. "I was going to the place only you would know where to look."

Seth nodded, he knew that she was going to the coast. "If you wanted me to find you, you didn't have to run away." He told her, kissing her again.

Summer was silent for a moment. "I know." She said finally. "But I wanted to go to the place where I felt safe, for the first time since...Oliver killed himself." She sighed, her tears falling again. "I just want to feel safe again." She pressed her face against Seth's chest again.
Seth held her, silent, listening to the waves crash against the rocking boat. "We're going to get through this, Summer. I promise."

Summer looked up again and nodded. "We will." She said, sounding like her old self once again. "Together."

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Ryan realized that he had spent the better part of his afternoon staring up at the window of Jimmy Cooper's apartment, when all he could see her the closed the blinds. He was sitting in the front seat of the Cohen SUV, watching the window from behind the sheet of the rain that cascaded down the windshield, silently listening to the thunder, wondering if Marissa was ever going to forgive him.

If she would just give him a chance to speak to her, then he could apologize, try to explain what had happened, even if there was no good explanation to offer. Ryan just wanted the chance, the chance to make sure that Marissa really understood what had happened, understood how much he really loved her and how kissing Teresa had meant nothing.

And so, Ryan remained in the passenger seat, watching the window from behind the rain, waiting for his chance.

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Hailey was in the kitchen, trying to figure out what she -with her limited experience in the kitchen- could make for lunch when someone knocked loudly on the door. Marissa looked up from her channel surfacing and in the direction of the door, scowling slightly. If that was Ryan again, come to harass her even more about forgiving him when he didn't deserve it, then she really was going to give him a piece of her mind.

But it wasn't Ryan standing at the door, dripping water on the welcome mat; it was a man she had never seen before, with sunken eyes and greasy hair. "Can I help you?" Marissa questioned, stepping back slightly, not liking the way he made no move to conceal the fact that he was checking out her assets.

"Yeah, is Hailey here?" He asked, grudgingly looking up at her face. He peered past her shoulder, trying to see in the apartment. "I was told I could find her here."

From the kitchen, Hailey looked up, trying to figure out who was at the door; there wasn't any yelling, so she figured that Ryan had shown up to beg for forgiveness again. "Who is it?" She called, heading into the living room before Marissa could answer.

"Someone for you." Marissa said, turning to look at Hailey, who had stopped dead in her tracks. "What's the matter?" She stepped back, without looking at the man in the door, as though she was afraid of what she might find.

Hailey could feel the color draining from her cheeks. "What are you doing here?" She whispered, trying to get her heart to stop pounding in her chest. It seemed surreal, impossible even, that Jacob could have found her here and was standing at Jimmy's front door. She was supposed to be safe here, somewhere that he could never find her.

Marissa looked from Hailey to the man at the door, who was grinning at the older woman, showing his crooked, yellowed teeth. "I was looking for you." He said. "What else?" Marissa swallowed, feeling a chill go down her spine even though she wasn't quite sure why, and stood next to Hailey.

"Get out of here." Hailey commanded, managing to find her voice. "Before I call the cops."

Openly ignoring her, Jacob stepped into the apartment, kicking the door shut behind him. "You've never called the cops before, Hailey. What makes you think you can do it now?" That grin was still on his face.

Hailey stepped forward, clearly positioning herself so that she was standing in front of Marissa. "This is your last chance, Jacob." She said, her voice loosing some of its nerve. "Get the hell out of here."

Jacob remained where he was and it was obvious to Marissa that he didn't believe Hailey's words, that he knew there was credence to her threats. Hailey cleared her throat, chancing a glance at Marissa. "Give me the phone." She told the teenager, who started toward the coffee table.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." Jacob growled and when Marissa turned back to look at him, she saw that he had pulled a gun from the waist of his pants and he cocked it, pointing the muzzle in her direction.

Marissa stopped, her heart seeming to forget how to beat, her blood running cold through her veins. She doubted that she could move even if she wanted to, seemingly unable to even breath as she stared at the cold chamber. All she could think about was Oliver and how he'd had the same icy look in his eyes when he had pointed a gun at her days before and how it had hurt when the bullet tore into her back. Tears sprang unbidden in her eyes and she felt her legs go weak. She couldn't go through this again, not again.

Hailey felt her heart skip a beat. "Jacob, what the hell do you think you're doing?" Her voice had started shaking. "Put the gun down."

For a moment, the gun remained trained on Marissa but slowly Jacob pointed it in Hailey's direction; Marissa remained stiff and tense, her eyes wide, heart pounding. "Come back to L.A. with me Hailey, this is your last chance." He said and Hailey knew, without a doubt, that he meant what he said.

Swallowing, Hailey forced herself to step backward. "Like Hell." She snapped with a courage that she didn't feel. "And if you think that coming here and threatening me and some teenager you've never even met is going to make any difference, then you're even more of a pansy then I thought you were."

Jacob started toward her, until he was close enough for Hailey to smell the liquor on his breath when he leaned close to her. He pressed the muzzle of the gun against her cheek, turning it on its side so that the cool metal seemed almost to be caressing her; Hailey shuddered. "It's not nice to insult the man with the gun." He growled, trailing the muzzle down her neck.

Hailey chanced a glance at Marissa, watching the girl out of the corner of her eye. Marissa seemed utterly terrified, frozen, unable to think and she could only guess what she was feeling at the moment. Not even a week after she had just narrowly missed being killed, Marissa was in the same position again. "Marissa," Hailey began, her voice scratchy, her mouth dry. "Get out of here."

Marissa was frozen for a second, as though she couldn't process Hailey's command, but in an instant, she moved, heading toward the door. Jacob turned so fast that Hailey didn't even have time to realize what was happening and grabbed Marissa by the waist, tossing her backward and onto the couch as though she were little more then a rag doll. Marissa landed on the cushions with such force that then wind was knocked out of her and she remained, motionless and sprawled against the cushions.

Jacob pointed the gun at the ground beneath her feet and pulled the trigger, the crack of the bullet echoing so loud through the apartment that Hailey thought she was going to go deaf. Marissa screamed and covered her first with her hands, shutting her eyes tightly. Hailey stared at the spot where the bullet lay imbedded and smoking in the carpet with wide eyes.

"Don't do that again." Jacob advised icily, looking from Hailey to Marissa and then back again. "Sit beside her." He commanded.

Hailey did what he said; instantly, Marissa had moved so that she was sitting right beside Hailey and took the other woman's hand. Hailey squeezed Marissa's hand and realized that she was shaking just as badly as the teenager was. She forced herself to look up at Jacob. "Are you going to kill me?" She questioned, unwilling to say 'us' because a part of her still hoped that Jacob wouldn't kill an innocent teenager.

Jacob seemed almost to be savoring her question for a moment, staring down the barrel of the gun in his hand. "You had your chance Hailey." He remarked, almost nonchalantly, as though he were telling a story about something that had happened to other people. Hailey waited for him to say more, but there was nothing; Jacob remained silent and, for some reason, that scared her even more.

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Ryan jerked upright in his seat when he heard the familiar crack of a gun go off in one of the apartments, his heart beginning to pound when he heard the scream that followed. He knew, without a doubt, that he had just heard Marissa cry out and even before he realized what he was doing, he had opened the passenger side door and jumped out into the rain, not bothering to shut the door behind him.

Unsure of what was happening, of why he'd heard a gun shot, Ryan hurried into the lobby of the building and up the winding flight of stairs, toward the third floor. He'd only be to Jimmy's apartment once before but he figured he could find it again now.

As he climbed the stairs, Ryan was aware of just how badly his heart was pounding and how short his breathing was. But none of that mattered; the only thing that mattered was that Marissa was all right.

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Marissa had started crying, her cheek pressed against Hailey's shoulder and her eyes shut tightly, mumbling "not again" over and over as though she didn't even realize what she was doing. Hailey wrapped her arms around Marissa's shoulders and was holding the girl tightly against her, trying to comfort her and knowing that she wasn't succeeding.

"Jacob," Hailey began, feeling close to tears herself. "Just let her go, don't hurt her." She thought that she would feel even the slightest bit more noble, pleading for Marissa's safety but all she wanted to do was beg for her own. She didn't want to die, not because of this ass.

Jacob didn't answer, he didn't say anything at all, just continued to stare at the muzzle of the gun, as though anticipating the next time a bullet would come from it and find a better target.

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Ryan stopped by the closed door, certain that he had found Jimmy's apartment; taking a deep breath and holding it, he pressed his ear against the wood, attempting to hear voices on the other side. He could faintly hear the consistent sound of Marissa's crying and Hailey's voice, though he couldn't make out what she was saying.

Very slowly, each movement carefully measured out, Ryan reached for the brass door handle and turned it, praying that the door didn't squeak as he nudged it open. For the first time in a long time, luck seemed to be on his side and the door opened without a sound.

Ryan peered into the apartment, trying to assess the situation as quickly as he could. A man that he didn't recognize had his back to the door, but Ryan could see that he held something in his hands; Hailey and Marissa were sitting on the couch and Marissa had her eyes closed, unwilling to look at the man and he instantly found himself filled with rage. No one could treat Marissa that way, make her feel so utterly terrified, not his Marissa.

As badly as he wanted to go rushing into the room, Ryan knew that would only get himself or someone else killed. He had to think of a plan, some course of action that would only hurt the man in front of him.

Hailey noticed movement out of the corner of her eye and slowly let her gaze wander in that direction; she saw the door open slowly and felt her heart leap. A part of her was overjoyed that help had arrived, that she wasn't going to die, but she was suddenly nervous for the person on the other side of the door. Jacob wouldn't hesitate to pull the trigger and she didn't think she could live with the thought of someone getting hurt because of her.

Ryan came into view, cautiously peeking into the apartment and Hailey felt her blood run cold again; not Ryan, he was just a kid. She prayed that Jacob didn't notice him and quickly turned her attention back to her clearly homicidal ex-boyfriend.

Jacob didn't seem to sense anything had changed and he went right on staring down at his gun; Ryan entered the apartment, nudging the door shut slowly so that it didn't inhibit him in case he needed to move quickly. Jacob cocked his gun, fitting another bullet into the chamber at the same moment the door creaked, causing Ryan to freeze instantly and Hailey to look over in his direction.

Jacob turned quickly, pointing the gun at Ryan and firing; Ryan dodged, crashing into the ground as the bullet cracked over-head. Marissa screamed his name and pulled away from Hailey, as though she was about to go to the aid of her boyfriend. Hailey leapt off the couch and tackled Jacob, catching him off guard and sending them both crashing to the ground.

The gun fell from Jacob's grasp, laying a few feet from where he fell to the ground, cursing as he landed on his side. Hailey tried to get to her feet, to untangle herself from Jacob and make a grab for the pistol but he grabbed her around the throat as soon as she sat up, holding her tightly. Hailey felt her eyes water, and swatted at his hand in vain.

Ryan lifted his head, surprised that he had managed to avoid being shot and quickly looked for Marissa; she was still sitting on the couch, her face buried in her hands, shoulders shaking with sobs. Jacob was slowly choking Hailey and would succeed if he didn't do something soon.

Jacob suddenly released Hailey, flinging her backward into the coffee table, where she struck her head and crumpled to the floor, motionless. He reached for the gun, his fingers finding it easily and he pointed it at her forehead. Ryan jumped for him, shoving him back down to the ground, his fingers searching for the gun and closing around Jacob's wrist, squeezing, trying to get him to release the weapon.

Jacob attempted to twist away from Ryan, trying to pry his hand loose enough to point the gun in his direction. Ryan tried to wrestle the gun away and the trigger went off, firing a bullet into the ceiling above; Marissa screamed again, but remained where she was, shaking on the couch.

Ryan grabbed Jacob's wrist and knocked it against the corner of the coffee table with as much force as he could and the man cried out, releasing the gun. Without hesitation, Ryan snatched up the gun and struck Jacob across the back of the head with the butt of the weapon. With a low groan, Jacob collapsed on the ground, laying motionless, his breathing slow and shallow, the place where Ryan had hit him beginning to bleed.

With a heavy sigh, Ryan tossed the gun across the room, dropping to the ground, suddenly feeling weak as the adrenaline that had been coursing through his body began to dissipate.

For a moment, the whole situation seemed so surreal, like it had never even happened, and Ryan closed his eyes letting everything sink in. As Ryan attempted to recover his state of mind, Hailey coughed and rolled over onto her stomach, keeping her eyes shut, her head pounding and her throat burning. Taking a deep breath, though that only managed to make her throat even worse, she sat up slowly, opening her eyes and taking in the situation. Jacob lay, seemingly unconscious, on his side in the middle of the room, with Ryan several feet away from him, leaning against the coffee table with his eyes closed. Hailey couldn't see the gun any more, which she figured was a good thing; had Ryan really managed to knock out her homicidal ex-boyfriend? That certainly seemed the case and she realized very suddenly that she owed her life to him.

Marissa opened her eyes slowly, blinking away her tears and lifting her head; her eyes settled immediately on Ryan and she felt relief flow through her body when she saw that he was all right. She slipped off the couch so that she was sitting beside him and threw her arms around his neck, startling him for a moment as he opened his eyes, but he quickly returned the embrace, wrapping his arms around her.

"You saved my life." She whispered, pressing her face against his shoulder. "My hero." She smiled slightly, remembering when she had said those words to him days before, under slightly different circumstances.

Ryan kissed her; there were so many things that he wanted to say to her, but somehow nothing seemed right, not at a time like this. He looked at her and said, "I'm so sorry about what happened. I love you so much and-"

Marissa kissed him, silencing him; when the kiss was broken, she looked at him, their eyes meeting. "That doesn't matter anymore." She assured him and he could see that she meant what she said, that what had happened between him and Teresa wasn't important.

Ryan knew that Marissa understood how much he loved her and nothing else had to be said; they both knew that words couldn't describe what they were feeling then.

And, as Ryan held Marissa against him, not feeling much like a hero at all but realizing, instead, that he felt happy and whole again. And, for the first time in days, he knew, from that moment on, that things really were going to be all right.