by B. C. Tweedt
It took a few more measures for Sam to process the thought. He knew the whole time? He let me use his signature? And he was okay with it? “You’re not mad?”
The Governor kept playing. He would tell his son only what he needed to know. He didn’t need to know that he had discovered his son’s plot early enough to change the families’ ship itinerary. They had been slotted for The American Spirit, but having the witnesses on the Spirit wouldn’t have given him the perfect opportunity to tie up loose ends like having them on the American Dream would.
“Nah. You made a tough choice out of love for your friends. And you used everything at your disposal to do it – including me.”
Sam missed a note, but recomposed himself. “But…I…”
“I suppose it’s because we share the same blood.”
“What?”
His father kept playing, speaking as if to the keys. “When I ordered the attack on the terrorists’ van in Des Moines, I thought you were still in it. It was the worst night of my life. I couldn’t imagine you in pain, with the terrorists.” He seethed with anger for a moment, replacing his sadness, but the gloom returned with the next measure. “And when they made their demands, I made the hardest possible decision any father would have to make – and I made it for the 200,000 citizens of Des Moines. I did what was good for the many…at your expense…just like you did what was good for your friends at my expense.” He gave Sam a sideways look.
“I love you so much, Sam. More than anything! And I know you feel the same. But we also love our country and its people. And I’ve sworn to protect them. If I had the same choice today, I’d have to make it.”
The song built toward the end as Sam furrowed his brow. There was something he had to ask. “But what if it wasn’t 200,000 this time? Would you make the same decision to save a hundred, or five?”
The governor gave him a sly smile. “You’re worth many more than that, Sam. Millions. Billions. But think about this. If I had chosen to save you, and let the van go into the heart of the city, how would you have felt afterward, when tens of thousands died so that I could save you?”
Sam suddenly thought of Greyson’s story about the bridge and how he’d abandoned the moving truck to rescue Sydney from the river. Did she feel responsible for the deaths because she was the reason Greyson failed to stop the bomb? Or did she feel loved by Greyson beyond all measure? Or both?
“I don’t know. Guilty? But also kind of special…loved.”
“Well, if you’d like, I can kill 8,000 people for you.”
Sam scoffed at the joke. “No, thanks.”
His dad laughed as they finished the song with a flurried crescendo. After the final chords had echoed down the hall, leaving a ringing silence, he turned to his son. “Sam – you are special – I love you very much. And I’m going to do everything I can to make it so that I am never faced with that kind of decision again. You’re everything to me. Your mom would be proud of you.”
They embraced hard. Sam buried his face in his dad’s suit and felt his heart beating strong.
“And I forgive you,” his father whispered down.
Sam held back his tears. “I forgive you, too.”
Finally releasing the hug, his father held him by the shoulders and looked down on him. “No more secrets. We’re a team. And I love you…more than like five people.”
“Five billion!”
“That’s what I meant.”
They laughed as Sam shifted in his seat just to make sure he felt the thumb drive was still there – hidden in his back pocket. He almost told his dad about it, but something stopped him. He needed to know why Calvin had died. He needed to know what secrets the government was keeping. He loved his dad more than anything in the world, but like his dad had shown – sometimes people have to hurt the ones they love to do what they think is right. So he’d check into it himself, find out the government’s secrets, and then destroy the evidence. His dad would never know and would never be hurt.
And then there would be no more secrets.
Chapter 54
“UGHHH!”
With one last tug, the second waverunner slid down the trailer’s ramp and plowed into the ocean water. While it had been easy for Sydney to pick the lock and find the waverunner keys hanging inside the shed, it had been treacherous pulling the trailer through the beach in torrential rain and gusting wind. It had taken all four of them.
The tide washed in and out, pushing the waverunners further onto the sand and then pulling them back toward the dark, open sea.
“Ready?” Jarryd yelled, a wide smile dripping with the downpour.
Greyson didn’t wait to respond. He rushed through the ankle high waves and pushed one of the waverunners further out by the handlebars. When the tide came in, the heavy vehicle moved forward several feet until it rested again in the sand. As he was waiting for the next wave, Sydney joined him on the other side. Together they pushed it out, smashing into a waist-high wave and tasting the salt water that smacked their faces.
“Now!” Sydney jumped on first as the waverunner free floated, but Greyson was close behind. Her legs just beat his to the seat and she jostled with him for the front position.
“I’m driving,” she demanded.
The waverunner rocked back and worth as Greyson’s feet nearly slipped from the footrest. He grasped at the seat and held on for dear life. But he wouldn’t sit behind her. “No way! I’m driving!”
She scoffed. “What? The fate of the world resting on a first-time jet-skier? Just hold on tight!”
“Where?” He looked for handholds on the side of the long seat, but there were none.
“On my waist – it’s got plenty to hold on to.”
He looked at her thin waist, which appeared extra thin with the wet t-shirt clinging to it. She was calling herself fat?
“Hurry up. Just act like you like me and sit your buns down.”
The other waverunner roared to life and Jarryd came alongside, with Nick holding his brother’s waist and pressing against his back.
“Like this!” Nick yelled.
Greyson gave them an awkward look before turning to Sydney, who had a death grip on the handlebars. She motioned him over with her eyes.
Another wave sent them rolling upward and Greyson toppled toward the seat. Grunting out of frustration, he flung his leg over. Despite his efforts, his body slid on the seat until it pressed against her back. His hands awkwardly hovered close to her waist before she grabbed them and pressed them on with a huff of frustration. A chill ran up his arms.
“It’s okay,” she whispered, turning to him. “Friends can hug.”
She smiled at him and time froze. He smiled back, suddenly looking at her like he had looked at her picture. The same sparkle in her blue eyes. The wet, blonde strands blowing over her ears. The drops of rain dripping from her long eyelashes and washing down the ski-slope of her nose. The picture had been only a reflection, a captured memory, but now she was here – the imagined now real and warm. She was no longer something beautiful to look at – now she was someone beautiful to hold. A new spark lit inside of him; he had never longed for her in this way.
Sydney swung her head back around as Jarryd blasted off, bouncing over the waves and screaming manically. And then she twisted the handlebar, accelerating with a jerk. The momentum pushed Greyson backward and a salty wave slapped his face, so he grabbed her shirt and pulled even closer to her on the seat.
The waverunner bounced hard left and right, spraying water from their underside and cutting through swelling waves. The ocean water bit at their exposed skin and burned their eyes, but the exhilaration was real. Sydney kept Jarryd in sight as they buzzed along with the beach on their left.
The ride was frightening for Greyson. He had no control. Sydney jostled with the handlebars, going way too fast, ramping off the bigger and bigger waves, landing with thuds each time before accelerating and skimming over the choppy waters, all while the wind whipped at their clothes.
As a passenger, he didn’t have the handlebars to break his impact. His body slid upwards with each jump and slammed into the seat with each landing. The friction bit at his wet skin and the drops to the seat made him wince.
But despite the pain, the hug was worth it. He felt guilty liking it, but he couldn’t help it.
“It’s great, isn’t it?” Sydney yelled breathily.
“What?” Greyson’s cheek had been nestled in a crook in her back.
“This is fun!”
“Yeah…ugh…just great!”
“There it is!”
Greyson blinked rapidly, trying to shake off the water’s mist as they circled around Paradise Island. Though he had to squint through stinging eyes, peeking between the wet locks of Sydney’s hair, he saw what she had seen – the gigantic ocean liner, still hugging the narrow dock. “Geez…it’s huge. Go around,” Greyson yelled, “so they can’t see us from the dock!”
“I know, I know!”
Sydney cranked the accelerator to its max and skipped over the waves, passing Jarryd and Nick to show them the way around. Though Jarryd didn’t like being passed, he caught the hint and followed her in a wide loop, coming in on the side of the ship. They cut the engines at the same time and drifted toward the towering white hull.
Craning their necks upward, they could barely see the top deck. There was nothing but rows and rows of windows, a few rows of balconies, and a row of large, orange lifeboats at the top. No doors, no ramps, and no ropes meant there was no way on the ship.
“Now what?” Jarryd asked as his waverunner sided up to Sydney’s.
“We have to find a way in.”
“Why not just go in the other side like everyone else?” Jarryd asked.
Nick hit his shoulder from behind. “Cuz they just tried to kill us, dimwit. If we go through their security with our cruise IDs, they’ll know they didn’t succeed – and they’ll try again.”
Jarryd nodded slowly as their waverunners lolled on the waves. He flipped his wet hair to the side and then suddenly sat up straight with a look of victory. “Anybody got a phone?”
Nick and Greyson shook their heads.
“Why?” Sydney asked.
Jarryd breathed heavy with excitement. “You got one?”
“Yeah. Stole it back from the parents. Who you gonna call?”
Jarryd pumped his chin. “My beautimus maximus.”
“Uh…what?” Sydney asked.
“Avery. She’s beatiumus to the maximus.”
“Just a tip – don’t call her that. But why are you calling her? What’s she going to do?”
Greyson butted in. “She’s on the ship? This girl?”
Jarryd smiled wide. “Wait ‘til you meet her. Her legs are like longer than…”
“Shut up, Jarryd,” Sydney hissed. “Greyson, the phone’s in my bag.”
Greyson leaned back, pulled her bag’s opening wide enough for his hand to fit through, and ruffled through the contents.
“So you know her number already?” Sydney asked.
“Of course. Even her country code. Sixty-one!”
“Didn’t know you could count that high.”
“You don’t know a lot of things about me.”
“Oh, yeah? Neither does she.”
“Yeah she does. ‘Cuz we talk. You should try it – talking to her. You might like her instead of just being all stuck up and jealous.”
Sydney felt a jab in her conscience. Nick had kept to himself as the two fought, still holding onto Jarryd’s back, but he jabbed a finger into his brother’s side to let him know that he had gone too far.
“So what if I’m jealous?” Sydney asked with a fighting tone; but she already knew she had lost. He was right. She hadn’t even talked to her, but she thought all kinds of things about her – and none of them good.
“Well, of course you are,” Jarryd shrugged. “Who wouldn’t be jealous of her?”
Nick shook his head. “Doesn’t help, Jarryd. Doesn’t help.”
Jarryd bit his lip. “You know what I mean…”
“Oh, I do!” she exclaimed, turning away and watching the waves lick at the sides of the ship. “You mean I should be jealous of her body – and maybe I am – but I shouldn’t be. Not all boys are as shallow as you – and some might think I’m perfect just the way I am.”
“Like Sam?”
It was Greyson’s voice. Sydney whipped around and dropped her jaw in despair. He was giving her an accusing look, Sam’s note in his hand. She’d forgotten that she’d hid the note in her bag. Her heart dropped.
“You read it?”
A long moment passed as he nodded, letting the wind and the rain do the only talking. He, too, was wrestling with what to say and how to say it. Anger and jealousy battled with disappointment and defeat. ‘What the heck?’ he wanted to shout. Why would you let him give you this? Why would you keep it in your fanny bag? Was it really that important to you? He also wanted to know for sure. Are you dating him now? Is this how you dump me? Or were we even dating?
But he just stared at her, taking deep breaths through his nose to keep calm. She reached out for the note, but he drew it back and held it over the waves. Her eyes widened, and she gulped as she stared at the note, considering what to say. “Fine. Do it,” she said at last.
He raised his eyebrows. “Don’t you want to keep it safe so you can read it over and over?”
“It’s not like that, Greyson.”
“Oh, yeah?”
Nick reached across the gap and tapped Greyson. “Give me the phone. I’ll call while you guys work this out.”
Greyson handed him the phone, keeping his eye on Sydney and the note held over the water. “Then what’s it like?”
She sighed. “I…it’s just a nice note.”
“It says there are other notes.”
“It also says he hopes I find you.”
“And that he admires you.”
She flinched. “Is that so bad? Couldn’t hurt you to say it every once and awhile.”
“Admires? Who says that?”
Suddenly Jarryd swiped the note from Greyson’s hand. “This sounds juicy!”
“Hey!”
He hastily read the note.
Sydney almost jumped the gap to tackle the note from Jarryd’s stupid hands, but she sat back down in defeat. “Who cares? He’s a nice guy. He got us here didn’t he? To help us find you, Greyson.”
That’s what Greyson hated most about him. He was too dang nice. He not only hated him, he felt guilty for hating him.
“Okay,” he said, shrugging. “Maybe we should all go see him after this so I can thank him face to face.” Fist to face.
“Good,” Sydney said, ignoring Greyson’s true intentions. “Or we can try calling him next.”
“Got his number in your phone?”
“Yeah, so? He might be able to help us from D.C.”
“Oh, D.C.? He must be special.”
“Stop being dumb.”
“You stop being dumb!” A burning anger wrinkled his chin and he finally surrendered to it. “Can’t you see he’s trying to steal you? He’s helping you, writing you notes, calling you, admiring you! He wants you to himself! And then what? They’ve stolen my mom, my dad, and you? What do I have left then? Huh? What do I have left?”
Nick hung up the phone and joined the awkward pause. They watched Greyson turn away to hide his trembling lips. The other three shared a collective desire to comfort him, but none wanted to initiate it. The storm continued to rage on, whipping the palm trees on the shore and whistling over the top deck far above. The storm swells lifted them higher and rocked them over and over.
Finally, Sydney spun on her seat to face Greyson. She put her hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Greyson.”
He huffed and puffed, trying to slow his breathing. “Whatever. We need to get on this ship. Maybe look for another way – or we can find a rope…”
“Greyson, hold on.” She pressed him down in his seat, but
he sneered, putting his elbows on his knees and trying to ignore her.
“You still have us. All of us. No one can steal us from you, ever.”
“That’s right, G-Man!” Jarryd shouted over his shoulder. “Bros before…”
Nick elbowed him before he could finish.
Sydney continued on. “I think we’re all just tired and…scared.”
“And I got to go to the bathroom,” Jarryd added. “I get cranky when I need to go. Mind if I go off the side?”
“Yes, we mind,” Sydney chided.
“Fine.” He jumped in the water, grabbing on to the footrest. He smiled at them with his head above water. “Don’t mind me. Keep talking.”
“You’re going right now, aren’t you?”
“Ahhhh…”
Greyson cracked a smile. He’d missed Jarryd. He’d missed all of them.
“You’re disgusting,” Sydney said, turning back to Greyson. “Anyway, what were we saying?”
Greyson made intermittent eye contact with her. “I’m…I’m sorry, too. I’m being stupid. Just…jealous, I guess.”
Sydney looked inward. “I guess it’s you and me both.”
“I can’t help it,” Greyson whispered.
“Huh?”
“How can I not be? I don’t want to be.”
Sydney looked at Nick who was still laughing at Jarryd. She shrugged and eyed him toward Greyson.
Nick shook off his smile when he saw Sydney’s silent command. “Uh…how do you not be jealous? Well, I don’t think we can just magically change ourselves like that. Kind of like cutting our own hair – we’ll always come up short somewhere.”
Greyson thought of how he’d cut his own hair and grew self-conscious. He’d have to keep the hat on until a closer inspection revealed how badly he’d messed it up.
Still, though, he needed a new self – one that would not only never leave anyone behind, but one that wouldn’t be jealous – one that would love his friends no matter what. But if he couldn’t change on his own, who would be able to change him?
“Look!”
Jarryd pointed up into the rain toward the top of the white, mountainous hull. Something large dangled in the sky, drifting toward them, growing larger and larger. The kids’ eyes followed it, but only Nick knew what it was – for he had given Avery the instructions.