Bodhi stays at my house for a few more hours. When the afternoon is creeping into the evening, he declares he needs to go home to get ready for our date. We’re in my pool with my brothers, watching them dive for quarters, as he spins my float around until my face is right by his.
“This is our first actual date. Did you realize that?” he asks me. “Even if all we’re doing is ordering a pizza, I’ve got to put some effort into it. One day someone will ask you what we did for our first date, and I want you to tell them I impressed the hell out of you.”
I run my finger over his lips. “You impress me every single day, Bodhi.”
“As I should.” He kisses me quickly and then jumps out. “My house? Six o’clock?”
Less than three hours from now. “Sounds perfect.”
My brothers grow bored with the pool and head back inside to play, while I float around by myself, enjoying the sudden quiet. The silence is short-lived though, when not even five minutes later I hear my mom stomping her way over to me.
“Eva? Miles said you’re going out with Bodhi tonight? How is that laying low?”
I shield my eyes from the sun. “We aren’t going out. We’re ordering pizza and watching a movie. Are we not allowed to do that?”
“Here?”
“Bodhi’s house. We’ve never had an official date,” I confide in her. “Bodhi wants to make it a big deal. We figure this is a good option under the circumstances.”
She sighs. “Eleven. You need to be home by eleven and do not turn your phone off.”
“I never do, but are you really giving me a curfew?”
“Eva, I could just make you stay here,” she threatens.
“Fine, fine. Eleven,” I grumble.
WHEN IT COMES to Bodhi, I’ve never gone out of my way to look extra nice. Bodhi doesn’t care if I wear makeup, or if my hair is perfect or exceptionally shiny that day. He makes it very well known that he loves me for me. This evening though, I put on a fitted white dress, blow dry my hair out, and apply a little mascara. Sometimes it’s nice to wear things other than bathing suits and shorts. Sometimes it’s nice to actually want to look nice for someone.
“Eleven,” my mom reminds me as I head to the garage. “And Eva?”
“Yes?” I roll my eyes and pause, my back to her as my hand reaches for the doorknob.
“You look beautiful.”
“Thanks, Mom,” I smile, opening the door and making my way to my Volvo XC90, a sixteenth birthday gift from my parents that rarely ever gets driven.
I turn out of my street and start driving down High Bridge, which has to be the most beautiful drive you might ever make in your entire life. It’s like a postcard. The mossy trees that hang over the road, the water with kayakers and fishermen, the occasional wild animal that crosses your path. I’ve even seen people pull off to the side of the road just so they can stand right in the middle of the street to take a picture. Sometimes I forget how lucky I am to live somewhere so beautiful.
I’m getting ready to hit one of the curves on High Bridge, when I see a red pickup truck, the red pickup truck. It’s parked next to an abandoned building that sits on a mound of land next to one of the channels of water from the intracoastal. It’s hard to see him sitting there, but my eyes are always drawn to this building every time I pass it. Porter got me drunk here one night when I told him I didn’t want to go home after a party, and the memory is like a car wreck. I have to look every single time I see it. I’m sure he does too.
As I slow down, I can see the driver sitting in the front seat, watching me. My mind is screaming to fly past him, to ignore him sitting there, to pretend I don’t see him at all and to just continue driving. But I know he will follow me to Bodhi’s. I know he’s there, waiting for me somehow. I don’t want this happening. I don’t want him ruining our perfect night, our first official date. So instead of listening to my conscience, I swerve off the road and pull myself up right next to him in the dirt.
What the fuck am I doing?
I turn my Volvo off, grab my key fob, and step out. I smooth my dress down, I dig my heels into the dirt and I toss my hair off my shoulders. I see him in his truck, watching my every move. I lean up against my Volvo and wait, adrenaline shooting through my veins. I’m not going anywhere until he gets out and talks to me. I’ll stand here all goddamn night.
After a moment or two, he turns his engine off and steps out, walking right over to where I am. The khaki hat is still on his head as he looks up at me and crosses his arms. There’s no doubt in my mind, this is Luke Sullivan standing a mere twenty feet in front of me.
“Do you know who I am?” he asks, his voice a lot scratchier than I thought it would be.
“I do. You’re Luke Sullivan. Bodhi’s dad, Calvin’s son.”
“You can call me Sully,” he tells me.
“Do you know who I am?”
“I do. Eva Calloway. Daughter of Brayden Calloway and currently hooking up with my son.”
I glare at him. “Hooking up isn’t the term I would use, and son is a little farfetched, don’t you think?”
He laughs. “I’m going to like you.”
“I don’t want you to like me. Why are you here? And how do you know my dad?”
“Damn, Eva. I like a straight shooter.”
“I’m just tired of all this bullshit. That’s what this is in case you didn’t know. Bullshit.”
He leans up against his truck and takes his hat off. His blonde curls fall out and frame his face, exactly like Bodhi’s. I almost throw up. The resemblance between him and Bodhi makes my entire body shake.
“Sweetheart, I’m here for a few different reasons,” he tells me. “None that have anything to do with you, but at the same time—”
“Bodhi. He has everything to do with me.”
He smiles and nods his head. “Maybe hooking up wasn’t the right term.”
“No, it definitely wasn’t.”
He pushes his hair back from his face and looks embarrassed. “I apologize then—”
“I don’t want your apology, Luke. I want to know why you’re here.”
“Phoebe,” he says. “A little birdie informed me she died?”
My heart breaks. My eyes fill up with tears. “Lenora. Her name was Lenora.”
“Lenora, Phoebe, does it really matter?”
“It does to me. It does to Bodhi.”
His eyes narrow. “Are you aware of the money? The money that should have been hers? The inheritance? The money that should be Bodhi’s?”
“Maybe,” I answer. How the hell does he know about this?
“Do you have them? You do, don’t you?”
“Have what?” I question him.
“The letters, Eva. All the evidence Phoebe had that proved who she really was? Everything explaining who should really have all that money?”
I shake my head. I can’t believe he knows all of this. “I don’t have any letters.”
“And I think you do. I think you and Bodhi know where they are. Why wouldn’t Bodhi want what’s his?”
“We don’t have them. Is that why you’re here?” I ask him appallingly. “You’re here for money that doesn’t belong to you?”
“Oh, it belongs to me,” he responds. “You need to know that. The sooner everyone knows that, the sooner I’ll disappear.”
“Henry Channing’s money, belongs to you? Would you care to elaborate on that a bit?”
He shakes his head. “No. You and Bodhi, you’ll both figure it out. I have no doubt about that, but please, do it soon. I’m tired of being here.”
I stare at him with absolute disgust on my face. “You have a son, an amazing son who you don’t even know, and you don’t even care? You’re only miles away from him and all you care about is taking money you think belongs to you, and ignoring the fact you could have a beautiful relationship with your son? He just lost his mom. Does that even matter to you?”
“That ship has sailed, Eva. It sailed a while ago,” he firm
ly states. “I’d never be able to have a relationship with him.”
“I disagree with you, Luke Sullivan.” I almost start crying. “You’re choosing to put money and a life of drugs which will most likely end in your premature death, over being a father to your son.”
Luke’s nostrils flare. “Don’t pretend you know anything about my life.”
“I know more than you think,” I respond back. “And one day, probably the day you shoot up for the last time, you’re going to regret choosing drugs and some revengeful scheme to take money that isn’t yours, over Bodhi, trust me on that.” I wipe my eyes before any tears can fall. “You know what? It’s okay, he’s better off without you anyway.”
“Yes, Eva. Yes, he is.”
“I’m glad we can agree on that,” I angrily reply. “Do you think having those letters will change anything? Bodhi doesn’t care about the money. He doesn’t want it, and he sure as hell wouldn’t give it to you if he had it.”
“But he would,” Luke laughs.
His laughter irritates me, like I just want to smack him across the mouth. “Why do you think that?”
“Because of you. Because he loves you and would do anything to protect you.”
My fingers wrap around the key fob to my Volvo. Luke is a creep. It’s no wonder Calvin wants nothing to do with him. “Outside of Swillerbees, when you saw me and went to get out of your truck, what were you planning on doing with me?”
“Collateral,” he answers, his eyes narrowing in on my face.
“And Bodhi’s friends, a couple days before?”
“Not too sure. I was just planning on talking to him that day, and that night, when I saw him on this road. But you, you’re more important. I knew I could get my point across with you in the picture, because of how much he loves you.”
“How do you know he loves me?” I ask him. “You haven’t even spoken to him.”
“I have eyes. And ears.”
He’s really pissing me off. “Do you enjoy following us around? Spying on us?” I ask him. “It was you who broke into my dad’s office, right? Looking for the letters? Like my dad would have them. You cut our alarm wires beforehand? You know that’s a crime, right? Thanks for coming back and cleaning up your mess by the way. Really threw us all off.”
He throws his head back and laughs. “I never came back. I never left your house, sweetheart. I searched through your dad’s office and stayed until I cleaned up my mess. Trust me, I always cover my tracks.”
My eyes grow big. “But—but Bodhi and I. We were in my house that day …”
“Like I said,” he smirks. “I have eyes. And ears.”
My head spins and I have to close my eyes for a second to keep myself steady. “I didn’t see your truck … when we left?”
He shakes his head. “No, you wouldn’t have, but don’t read into that too much. It means nothing.” And then he grins. “Two things became very apparent that day. One, my son is quite the smooth talker, and two, my god if he doesn’t love the hell out of you.”
Vomit rises in my throat. He was there, in my house, the same time Bodhi and I almost had sex in my bedroom. He senses I just made the connection and starts rocking on his feet, looking pleased with himself.
“You were hiding in my house?” I whisper. Every second spent with Luke is making me realize just how deranged he truly is.
He tilts his head to the side. “I wouldn’t call it hiding. I just didn’t let myself get seen. So …” he sighs. “The letters?”
“Bodhi doesn’t have the letters, and fuck you.”
His eyes grow large. “Sweetheart, you’ve got quite the temper. And I don’t believe you,” he says, stepping forward a little.
My hand reaches for the door behind me. “What’s your plan, Luke? Steal money that doesn’t belong to you and then what?”
His face turns red. “I get the money that is owed to me, I get on my boat that’s over there,” he points to High Bridge. “And then I sail my ass back home. I make amends with a few people that won’t leave me the fuck alone, and then I live happily ever after. Just like a goddamn fairytale.”
He moves closer to me. I trip over my feet because I can’t back up any further.
“You don’t need to be scared of me.”
“I’m not scared of you,” I declare. “I’m repulsed by you.”
“Good to know.”
“My dad,” I blurt out. “How do you know him? And Owen? And Mr. Channing?”
He glares his eyes at me. “You’ll have to ask your dad how I know him. And Henry, good old Henry who only cares about himself, but as for Owen, last I heard he’s at the bottom of the sea with his yacht.”
He’s close enough to touch me now. My eyes shut as he reaches his hand out. His fingers brush against my wrist, but at the same time, I hear tires suddenly screech. I open my eyes and squint through the gaps in the trees to see red lights and a vehicle backing up towards us. A Land Rover pulls up to the side of the road. The window rolls down and Porter hangs his head out.
I never thought I’d be so happy to see Porter Channing in my entire life.
“Eva?” he questions, looking between me and Luke. “What the hell are you doing?”
Luke backs up a little, farther away from me. My hand immediately opens the door to my Volvo and I step between the door and my seat.
“I thought I had a flat tire,” I lie to him.
“And who’s this?” Porter points to Luke.
Luke doesn’t respond.
“He stopped to see if I needed help,” I lie again. “What did you say your name was?”
“Sully. You can call me Sully.”
I quickly look over at Porter. His mouth opens, but then he swiftly closes it. He knows. He knows I’m in trouble. I see him gulp.
Please. Please don’t leave.
“Thank you, Sully,” he says calmly to Luke. “Eva and I are … we’re friends. Are you going home?” he asks me.
“No. No, I wasn’t.”
“I’ll follow you. Wherever you’re going. Make sure everything’s okay with your tire and all. Thanks again for stopping, Sully.”
Luke puts his hat back on. I see him grinding his teeth. “Anytime. See ya around, Eva.”
I jump in the Volvo without giving Luke a second thought and back out in front of Porter as fast as I can. He turns his Land Rover around in the dirt, leaving Luke still standing there, and follows me straight to Bodhi’s. When we get there, my hands are frozen to my steering wheel. I cannot move them. Porter gets out and walks over to me, knocking gently on the window. I manage to unlock my door. He opens it and reaches over me, putting my Volvo in park and turning it off. I see Bodhi walking out of the garage, a confused look on his face.
“What’s going on?” he asks both of us.
I can’t speak, no words will leave my mouth.
“Is this your house?” Porter questions him, eyeing it impressively. “For some reason I didn’t think—”
“Porter!” Bodhi exclaims. “What’s going on?”
“I saw her on the side of the road,” Porter tells him, backing up from my Volvo. “With some dude. It didn’t look right, so I stopped. That’s all.”
“Some dude? Who was it?”
Porter shakes his head.
“Who was it?” Bodhi asks again.
“I told you two not to get involved!” Porter roars.
“Who the fuck was it, Porter?!”
“Sully!” he shouts. “The guy Sully I told you guys about this morning! Or at least I’m guessing it was the same guy. Fucking guy looked as shady as hell.”
“Jesus Christ!” Bodhi cries out. He reaches over me and unbuckles my seatbelt.
“You know who he is?” Porter asks.
Bodhi completely ignores him. “Eva,” he says, prying my one hand from the steering wheel. “Let’s get inside. We need to get inside, okay?”
I nod my head and let him guide me out of my seat.
“Who is he?” Porter asks agai
n.
“He’s my dad.”
“Your dad?” Porter eyes grow huge. “The guy my dad sent Mr. Calloway to the Bahamas to see … what the hell does he want with Eva? I swear to god he was getting ready to grab her before I pulled up.”
“I don’t know,” Bodhi says as he walks me to the garage. Porter follows him. “I don’t know what he wants.”
“I do,” I whisper.
Bodhi and Porter both stop moving.
“Collateral,” I say. “He wants to use me as collateral. He’s here for your money, Bodhi. The money your mom should have gotten, the inheritance. The money that should be yours now. The money that you have Porter, that your dad has. He wants it. And he’s planning on using me to make sure he gets it.”
chapter thirty-three
Bodhi
W hat the hell does she mean my dad has your money?” Porter whispers to me in my kitchen, turning his back on Eva who’s lying on my couch.
“There are letters, Porter. Letters somewhere that explains who my mom was, and that the inheritance your dad got from Paul was hers. My dad knows this. Your dad knows this. Eva’s dad knows this. Owen Edwards knows this, but we haven’t figured out why my mom let your dad have the money. I don’t want the money,” I make clear. “But it looks like my dad does.”
“I don’t believe you,” he declares. “My dad wouldn’t just willingly take money that isn’t his.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Really, Porter? You really don’t think he’d do that?”
Porter lets my words settle for a minute and then growls. “Why is he such an asshole?!” He pulls out a chair and sits down at the table, throwing his head into his hands. “How are you going to prove this if you don’t have the letters?”
“Find them. Find Eva’s dad? Get your dad to talk? Find Owen Edwards?”
Eva laughs from the couch. “You aren’t going to find Owen unless you grow gills and start swimming around the Atlantic. Your dad said he’s dead, Bodhi. At the bottom of the ocean.”
“What?” Porter gasps.
“Pretty sure it was my dad who did the job,” she continues. “But you already know he’s capable of that type of shit. Right, Porter?”
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