by Elodie Colt
“A tent?” I ask in disbelief, appalled by the idea of sleeping on the ground in the middle of this isolated land amongst all kinds of snakes, scorpions, and centipedes.
“Not just a tent,” Jesse argues, and I don’t miss the camel driver shooting me an annoyed look as if I’ve hurt his feelings. “It’s a Bedouin camp. You’ll have all the luxury you wish for, darling.”
When we near the rows of tents aligned in between a cluster of rocks, I immediately want to slap myself for my disrespectful remark. This camp looks so cozy and inviting with all the wool yurts, fluffy rugs, and storm lamps surrounding the entire place, that all I want to do is to lie down on the cushions and watch the sky. The air is heavy with incense, and the soft chimes of woodwinds lull you into some sort of trance.
Lending me a hand, the camel driver helps me dismount, and I groan in relief when my feet hit the ground.
Jesse jumps off the camel like a pro and slaps my butt. “Sore ass?”
“Yeah. Feels like I’ve ridden a camel all day,” I mutter, rubbing my tail bone.
Jesse cackles. “Told you, you’re better off riding me instead.”
The rest of the evening we share a meal cooked in the earth with the other travelers and Bedouin campers, then take a walk around the camp, enjoying the cool desert breeze and watching thousands of stars glittering in the sky.
“This was an amazing vacation, Jesse,” I say when we make our way back to our tent. “Better than all the trips we ever made.” Jesse nods in acknowledgment and offers me a warm smile. “Maybe we can do that again next year or so. Spend a few weeks here and get to see the rest of the country.” For some unknown reason, the smile on his face drops, but he schools his expression before I can question the sudden flicker of hurt in his eyes.
“Let’s focus on the here and now, okay? This trip isn’t over yet.” Tugging at my hand, he leads me into our tent and closes the flap. The soft glow of the lamp above throws shadows over his features when he approaches me, his expression gloomy. “I love you, Ruby Kingston. With all my heart. Remember that, no matter what awaits us when we return. Always remember that.”
My face contorts into a frown at hearing the urgency in his voice. I can’t shake off the notion that he’s saying goodbye in some weird way when he kisses me with so much desperation, I can feel his love for me tugging at my heart and soul.
And when he lowers me down on the cushions, so gently you might think he’s afraid to break me, I can’t stop asking myself…
What will happen when we return?
I cuddle with Jesse on the jet, listening to his soft snores while a million thoughts wreak havoc in my mind.
I can feel it. Something is coming. Something big. Something that will change everything.
Last night was a breaking point. A beautiful night filled with love and passion and so many orgasms, I lost count. It felt like our very first time. And for some unknown reason, it also felt like our very last time.
Is Jesse growing tired of me? No, it can’t be. He wanted this trip so badly, and we had an amazing time together. Every morning, he woke me up with sweet kisses. Every day, we walked hand in hand. Every night, he lulled me to sleep. Not once did he speak about work or college or duties. Not once did he seem bored or annoyed or pissed. He loved me every minute. So why does it feel as if is our time is running out?
Maybe Gold Reserve, Inc. offered him a permanent job somewhere far away from Florida. Maybe they want to send him away, and he’s afraid to tell me. A few weeks ago, I would have never considered leaving Florida even if it meant parting ways with Jesse. But now? Hell, I would move to the other end of the world just to be with him. Our once dull and gray future is now a rainbow of colors. Lush and multifaceted and full of possibilities.
A proposal at the beach. A house with a white picket fence. A marriage in—
A phone chirping pulls me out of my reverie, but it’s Jesse’s sudden outcry that explodes in my ears, making me bolt upright in my seat.
“Blowout!”
“Jesus!” I yelp with a hand over my heart, watching Jesse as he shakes his head to shoo away the remnants of his nightmare. I’m glad there are no other passengers on board, or he would have alarmed the entire crew. “Are you okay?” I rub a hand over his shoulder.
“Y-yeah,” he croaks, but gathering from his frantic breaths, he is anything but.
I regard him with worry. “What was that?”
Jesse gulps down half of his water bottle before he answers me. “Just a bad dream.”
“Just a bad dream? You nearly gave me a heart attack! And that’s not the first time you screamed ‘blowout’ out of nowhere. What’s going on, Jesse?”
“Nothing. All good,” he mutters before he shoots up from his seat and beelines for the restroom, leaving me perturbed.
Jesse’s phone vibrates again, and I glance down at the display. I don’t know the PIN of his new phone to activate the screen, but the preview of his text message is enough to fill me with trepidation.
Asshole bro: On my way home. And you better be off when I return.
What the fuck? Who in God’s name is ‘asshole bro?’ Jesse has many friends. With the exception of Leo, he’s on good terms with everyone. He has no enemies, so why does this message sound like a serious threat? Is this why I can’t shake off the notion that Jesse wants to run off? Because this guy, whoever he is, wants him gone?
It’s only after about half an hour that Jesse returns, and I quickly shut my eyes, pretending to be asleep. Whatever he’s hiding from me, I’m going to confront him when we’re home and get to the bottom of it.
With a sigh, Jesse picks up his phone, and I peek through my eyelids, gauging his response to the wicked message he received. His lips flatline, and his jaw clenches, the motion pronouncing his sharp cheekbones. He seems furious but not surprised.
His chest rises as he inhales before he curses under his breath, “Fuck you.”
For the rest of the flight, Jesse is quiet. The occasional smiles he sends my way are forced. He can’t keep his feet still and nibbles on his fingernails the entire time. I wait for him to say something, to open up to me and tell me what’s going on, but he remains silent until we arrive at Sam’s. Leo and Sam are still on their honeymoons, so it’s just Kendra and Skyla who welcome us. After a brief chit-chat about our vacation, we retreat to my room.
Jesse stays reserved, slouching down on my bed and switching on the TV while I pretend to be busy unpacking my stuff, racking my brain about how to launch into this touchy conversation. I peek at him from under my lashes while he stares at the TV, but I can tell his mind is elsewhere. The news channel catches my interest, though, and I fetch the remote to turn up the volume.
“… weeks of efforts to contain the oil flow, the well is now sealed,” the reporter announces as the channel shows footage of the offshore platform off the coast of Newfoundland that blew up two months ago. “Investigations now confirmed that the blowout was caused by a failure in the ventilation system, resulting in—”
I don’t get to hear the rest as Jesse darts up, yanks the remote from my hand and mutes the TV.
“Hey! Where’s the fire?” Judging from the way his nostrils flare like a bull ready to charge, I’ve clearly hit a nerve. “Why the hell are you so mad all of a sudden?”
He exhales through his nose as if trying to gather patience. “Sorry,” he mumbles before he tosses the remote on the bed so hard, it bounces to the floor. Not bothering to pick it up, he whips past me and slams the door shut behind him.
Stunned, I throw up my hands in frustration. “Did I miss something here?” I yell to no one in particular.
My gaze travels to the TV showing more footage from the blowout, and I stop in my tracks, replaying the way Jesse cringed just seconds ago when the news reported the catastrophe. Did he have nightmares because of what happened in Newfoundland? He wasn’t there when the oil rig blew up, so why did he wake up screaming twice?
Walking over to the windo
w, I glance down to see him prowling on the patio, scratching his head like mad and nearly pulling out his hair. Whatever is going on, I know it has something to do with that weird message he received.
“What are you hiding, Jesse?” I whisper to myself, plopping down on my bed in exhaustion.
My eyes drop to his passport on the nightstand, and I pick it up, sifting through the pages without reason, but with each stamp I scan, my blood turns colder.
Hongkong. Canada. Austria. Indonesia. France. Alaska. Vietnam. Malaysia. Countries he’s never visited. Dates he’s never left.
And it gets worse…
Newfoundland. He stayed for nearly a year, and according to the date, he left the country on the same day as the oil rig catastrophe.
Venezuela. Two months, four years ago. And I don’t find any proof that he’s been there ever since, not even for his internship.
Jordan. Six months, three years ago. ‘I read the tourist guide,’ Jesse said when I asked him how he could possibly know so much about Jordan. What if he’s been there already?
But then comes the real shocker when I flip to the first page, and my heart lodges in my throat, suffocating me for one horrible moment.
Raphael.
The first name printed in his passport is Raphael. Last name, birthday, place of birth—all the same. The only difference is the first name and the scrawly signature, one that is, without a doubt, not Jesse’s!
“What in God’s name is going on here?” I sob, my voice breaking as tears obscure my vision. I’ve never felt so vulnerable. So deceived. So lost. I’m on the brink of losing my mind because I can’t for the life of me figure that shit out!
The door banging open makes me jolt, and I gape at Jesse as he halts in the middle of the room, guilt masking his features.
“I… I need to tell you something,” he stutters, his tone leaden. “But I don’t know where to start.”
“How about you start with this?” I toss the passport at him, making it bounce off his face and flutter to the floor.
Jesse glances down reluctantly, his face losing all color. “I…” he starts and huffs, “I can explain.”
“Good. I’m all ears.” My voice is not my own. Flat. Detached. Icy. It’s a wonder the words tumble over my lips at all.
Just as he opens his mouth to spill the beans, I hear a commotion downstairs along with Skyla’s agitated voice.
“… thought you were upstairs with Ruby? And when did you change your clothes?” There’s some rustling and curses, then a bang.
“Hey, calm down, tiger!” Kendra yells.
My gaze slides to Jesse who hangs his head, eyes closed as if waiting for his impending doom. The pounding of footsteps announces that someone is going to barge in any second.
And that someone is…
Jesse. Wait… Jesse?
I shrink back in shock, staggering and fumbling for anything to support me as my knees take on the consistency of jelly. My eyes ping-pong between the two men staring each other down as if close to ripping their heads off.
“Why the fuck are you still here?” the Jesse who just busted in growls to the other Jesse. No, not Jesse…
Raphael.
They look a hundred percent identical. Nothing distinguishes them in height or features other than their clothes and maybe a slightly different haircut. And now that they’re standing side by side, you can clearly see that Raphael can do more push-ups.
Raphael ignores Jesse’s demand, his eyes riveted on me. “We can explain—” he starts, but Jesse cuts him off.
“I don’t have to explain anything!”
Raphael whips his head to Jesse. “Oh, yeah? Are you sure you’ve got nothing to say to your girlfriend?”
I just blink, totally paralyzed, my tongue glued to the top of my throat.
The next thing I know, they pounce at each other like wild beasts. Fists fly, and shelves rattle as the two start to beat the shit out of each other. By the time my limbs cooperate with my brain again, half of my book collection is on the floor, and the TV only shows static.
Snatching a flower pot from the windowsill in a knee-jerk reaction, I throw it against the opposite wall. The sound of clay shattering stops their brawl immediately, and they freeze on the floor, all eyes riveted on me. Kendra and Skyla breeze in right after, taking in the scene with shocked faces.
“What. The. Fuck,” Skyla mutters when she realizes there’s a copy of Jesse in the same room.
“Un-fucking-believable,” is Kendra’s remark as the guys scramble to their feet. Raphael’s shirt is torn, and Jesse sports a split lip.
“Are you twins?” Skyla demands in disbelief, and Jesse scoffs, wiping his sleeve over his lip and streaking it with red.
“Duh, what gave you that idea?” is his sarcastic answer.
Before I can blink, Kendra slaps him so hard, his head snaps sideways, and he nearly goes down again. This time, he’s smart enough to keep his mouth shut and ride the pain in silence.
“Did you know about this?” Kendra directs at me, and I shake my head in slow motion. “Jesse never told you he had a twin brother?” Again, I shake my head, feeling like a robot on remote control. She whips her head to the guys, her eyes flashing with rage. “So, what? You just switched places to prank her? Are you two for real?” Her voice grows louder with each word, but everyone remains silent. “Did you really think—”
“Out,” I command when I finally find my voice again, interrupting Kendra’s rant.
“Ruby, I—” Raphael starts, but I don’t let him finish.
“Get the fuck out. Everyone.” I feel the tears brimming in my eyes, but I want to let them fall in peace. The girls shoot me sympathetic looks, but I shut them out. “Jesse,” I prompt, and everyone halts in their tracks. “Give me your passport.”
“What?”
“You heard me.” I stretch out my hand, palm up.
Jesse seems lost for a moment, throwing his brother an uncertain look, but Raphael just shakes his head in disappointment and barrels past him. Tentatively, Jesse retrieves his passport from his pocket and hands it to me before he slouches off with shoulders hunched.
I take a deep, shaky breath when the door clicks shut behind him. Bile rises in my throat, but I swallow it back down, trying not to fall apart. My room is a total mess, shattered and broken just like me, and all of a sudden, it feels as if the walls are closing in on me from all sides.
“I need to get out of here,” I mumble to myself and send Sam a quick text message. She and Matthew are still on their honeymoon for the next three days, and some alone time at Matthew’s plantation sounds like the perfect distraction right now. Sam’s reply comes an instant later, letting me know where I can find a second set of keys. Fetching the two passports, I toss them into my bag and hasten out of my room.
“Ruby!” Skyla yells, darting up to her feet when I rush down the stairs. “Where are you going?”
I halt for a moment, letting my gaze linger on Jesse and Raphael. Jesse has his head down as if everything is a lost cause already whereas Raphael’s eyes are pleading.
I’ve never thought that I could feel hate, but right now, I do. In fact, the hate is so all-consuming, I can taste its bitterness on my tongue and its tendrils winding in my gut.
“Get out of this house,” is my harsh order to both of them before I make my dramatic exit.
“I don’t get it,” Skyla huffs, wiggling a finger between us. “Who’s the good guy now?”
Kendra shoots her an annoyed look. “No one is the good guy, Skyla. They both shit on Ruby, hook, line, and sinker!”
“I didn’t—” Jesse starts to go into defense, and I already want to shut him up, but Kendra beats me to it.
“Save your excuses for Ruby if she wants to hear them, but don’t hold your breath. Now, get your cheating asses out of here. You won’t set a foot inside this house until Ruby sanctions it.” She delivers her speech swiftly with both hands on her hips, and we take the hint, dragging our butts to
the door.
“Do you know where she went?” I ask in a soft tone before I leave.
Kendra crosses her arms in front of her chest, lips pinched. “No, but I wouldn’t tell you either way. My advice? Leave her be. And when she’s ready to talk to you…” she leans in until our noses almost touch, “then grovel and beg for her forgiveness.”
Skyla clears her throat next to Kendra. “Um, are you talking to Jesse or his brother now? Damn, they really look exactly alike.”
“Hell, if I know,” Kendra mutters before she slams the door in my face.
Furious, I cross the front yard, Jesse hard on my heels.
“This is your fault!” he seethes from behind me.
Despite the rage brewing inside me like a thunderstorm, I swallow down the snarky remark sitting on my tongue. All the issues with my brother weigh down on my shoulders, but Ruby’s face of utter terror and betrayal is an unbearable burden.
Jesse huffs a sardonic laugh, oblivious to the war I’m waging inside. “Come to think of it, every bad thing that’s ever happened in my life is your fault.”
With a growl so deep, it could have come from a hell hound, I whirl around, grabbing the collar of his shirt and slamming him against the garage door.
“We can do this the hard way or the easy way, bro. Either, I beat the shit out of you before I call Lana and tell her everything you forgot to mention, like the fact that you have a girlfriend in another state. Or, we try to stay civilized here, talk it out and get tanked as we did in the good old days. Take your pick.”
I know he’s going to surrender. He became five shades paler the second Lana’s name slipped over my lips. Besides, he knows he wouldn’t stand a chance against me. Back when we fought in Ruby’s room, he didn’t even leave a scratch. My shirt tore because I rammed the edge of the nightstand, not because he ripped the fabric. I, on the other hand, was close to beating him comatose. Thirty seconds longer, and Kendra would have needed to call an ambulance.