by Anne Hope
“It wasn’t very nice of him to say you were jealous of his castle, was it?”
Surprise lanced through him. Maybe she did understand after all. “He was being a jerk.”
“Friends do that sometimes. Your mom and I used to fight all the time when we were little.”
He raised stunned eyes to her face, and she quickly added, “Not with our fists. We fought the way girls fight. One time I was mad at your mom because she called me carrot head, so I wrote a love note to the most popular guy in school and signed her name to it. Then I put it in his desk. She was mortified. Never called me carrot head again.”
He wanted to smile, but he couldn’t. His chest hurt too much whenever he thought of his mom. Tears stung his eyes, but he held them back. There was no way he’d let his aunt see him cry.
“What I’m trying to say is that it’s all right to get mad at your friends. Just be careful because you never know when you’ll lose them. And then you’ll be left with nothing but regrets.”
“Is that what happened to you?” He bit his lower lip. He shouldn’t have asked that. Now she’d get angry.
“Yeah. That’s exactly what happened to me,” she whispered.
Then she was quiet for a very long time. With each breath he exhaled, Noah grew more and more agitated. He needed to say something, anything, to break the awful silence. “Why did you stop being my mom’s friend? Was it because of Kristen and me? Did you hate us that much?”
He wasn’t quite sure what to make of the expression that pinched her face. She seemed shocked, but at the same time she looked like she wanted to bawl. Noah sank farther into the bed. He should have kept his big mouth shut. He never knew when to be quiet.
“Why would you ever think something like that? How could I possibly hate you two?”
His stomach twisted uncomfortably. “I heard Mom talking to Dad once. She didn’t know I was there. She was crying. She said you stopped being her friend because you couldn’t bear to be around us.”
Her face collapsed. Her eyes suddenly glistened, like raindrops in the sun. “I stopped being your mom’s friend for the same reason you hit Jason today. Because I couldn’t have what she had.”
Their gazes locked. Noah saw his own pain reflected in the droop of his aunt’s brows, in the stiff line of her lips, and for the first time he understood.
Rebecca had always loved to watch the sun set. There was something hypnotic about the way the pink swirls set the sea aflame. Dusk was the only time fire and water could blend so seamlessly. It was undeniable proof even complete opposites could find a way to coexist and create something beautiful.
The night was cool, the breeze brisk as it feathered over her cheeks. On the outside she looked serene, at peace with the world around her. On the inside, anxiety bubbled, threatened to overflow. Noah’s words reverberated in her mind, a sharp, unforgiving blade that stabbed into her and brought a strange weakness to her limbs.
“Did you hate us that much?”
She closed her eyes. The beautiful sunset suddenly felt sinister—a tiny death, a day gone that could never be recaptured, mistakes that could never be undone.
How had things gone so wrong? At one time she’d been completely infatuated with Noah. She’d held him when he was just a few days old, inhaled the fresh scent of newness only newborns possess. For the first two years of his life she’d been the model aunt. She’d fed him, changed him, played with him. She’d lived for his smile, his gentle hugs, the sound of her name on his lips. He hadn’t been able to say Rebecca, so he’d called her Ecca instead.
Then she and Zach decided to have children of their own, and everything changed. Bitterness slowly seeped in, corroding the bond she and Noah had shared until it crumbled. She mourned the death of that bond now, would have given anything to have it back. Remnants of the tenderness she’d once felt for Lindsay’s eldest child still echoed inside her. If she could reconnect with that old feeling, push down the walls she’d built around it, maybe…
“You look like you’re miles away.” Zach’s voice sliced through her grim thoughts. He gently gripped her arms, then leaned his chin on her shoulder. Something inside her slowly stirred to life.
“Not miles, years.” The sun tested the water, slid farther into the sea. “I was just remembering when Noah was first born. What it felt like to hold him.”
His body tensed, his grip tightening. Memories of happier times often made the pain more difficult to bear. “You were his favorite. Lindsay was so jealous.”
“Lindsay? Jealous of me? I don’t think so.”
“I know my sister. Believe me when I tell you she was green with envy.”
“Why? She had everything.” Everything Rebecca had ever wanted—beauty, grace, a child.
“Her firstborn cried whenever she took him out of your arms. You always had a way with kids. She was awkward with him, nervous. But you…you took to him like a fish to water. You always knew what he wanted, what he needed. It was uncanny.”
Had she truly lost so much of herself to anguish? “How did I mess things up so badly?” She wasn’t sure whether the question was directed at him or to the blazing sky.
He didn’t answer. Instead, he turned her into his embrace and softly covered her mouth with his. This kiss was sweet and slow, like sugar melting on her tongue. It was a kiss that spoke of second chances, new beginnings.
Then the kiss deepened, grew desperate and demanding. Rebecca’s skin began to tingle. She pulled him closer, wondering how she’d ever survived two years without him. It was as if the best part of herself had fallen into a deep sleep and was just now reawakening.
His arms encircled her back and drew her hard against him until she felt each splendid muscle carved into his solid chest, each pulse of his heart, each shiver of desire. Like ice on a hot day, the pain that had held her captive for so long slowly began to thaw. This kiss wasn’t about physical need, although there was plenty of that.
It was about healing. Redemption. Hope.
The sun plunged deeper. Red flames danced along the surface of the sea. Soon it would be completely submerged, its brightness swallowed by blackness. But tomorrow it would rise again, peel away the smoky fingers of night and soar high in the sky.
Hand in hand, Zach and Rebecca walked back into the house, where their own radiant dawn awaited them.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Shadows swathed the beach house, a gray fog dusted with starlight. Zach guided Becca inside, unable to keep his hands off her, craving her kiss, her touch. Everything about this woman sang to him. No matter how many times he made love to her, it never took the edge off. It just made him yearn for her all the more. She was the missing part of himself, the one he’d been stupid enough to think he could live without.
Now he knew what an idiot he’d been. He might as well have attempted to live without his heart, which now thundered beneath his ribs as it sputtered back to life.
He didn’t bother to wait until they reached the bedroom. Slowly, deliberately, he slid the straps of her dress from her shoulders, let the garment fall in a wrinkled heap at her feet. Moonbeams spilled in from the windows, caressing her skin and making it glow like alabaster.
His eyes drank in the sight of her. Fiery curls fell in satin sheets to brush the tips of her breasts. Her gaze was deep and molten, as potent as her kiss. The tightness in his groin grew painful.
She raised her arm, extended her hand to him.
Please don’t touch me. I’ll be lost.
But she did. And he was.
She peeled the clothing from his body, and a burning energy licked the underside of his flesh wherever her fingers ventured. Before long they both stood naked in a trembling puddle of moonlight. He bracketed her face with his hands, trailed his thumb across her cheek and over her lips.
“I can’t bear to lose you again,” he whispered.
She trembled against him. “You won’t.”
In that moment, when darkness crowded around them and cricket
s released their mating calls, when the ocean’s night song escalated and drowned out the whistle of the wind, when Becca’s mouth latched onto his and washed away his doubts, he believed her.
Heat flared inside him, surrounded him. Her scent intoxicated him, that subtle blend of lavender and sage sprinkled with a hint of sun and sea. He crushed her to him until not a sigh of air separated them. She went boneless in his arms, and somehow he had to find the strength to support them both even as his own knees weakened. He realized he could do it this time; he could be strong enough for both of them.
His lips never leaving hers, he swept her off her feet and pinned her to the wall. A soft gasp tickled his mouth as she wrapped her legs around him. His body lurched, sought out her liquid warmth, even as his brain warned him to take it easy. He was sick and tired of always striving for control. For once in his life he just wanted to be.
She didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he was pretty sure she wanted him to lose control. The way her hips moved against his was undeniable proof of that. There was only so much stimulation a man could take.
He ran his hands over her torso, thrilled as her generous breasts spilled over his palms. She moaned and cupped his butt, increasing the pressure in his crotch. Desire tore through him, and he nearly cried out from the agony of it. Before he knew it, he was inside her. Heat swallowed him. Submerged him. Spun him around until he was sure he’d drown. His lungs refused to expand to admit any air. His heart grew so huge it blocked his windpipe. All the blood in his body sank to the part of him that was fused with her. They moved in perfect rhythm, in tune with the wind and the sea. His temples throbbed, his body stiffened, Becca shuddered and called out his name.
Then pleasure ripped through him. A torrent of emotion rushed in to sweep him away. He let the tide carry him, the night caress him, her gentle breath lull him until the fight leached out of him.
And for the first time, that was okay.
It was dark out, past midnight, he guessed. Noah liked to get up when everyone else was asleep. It made him feel older, free to do whatever he wanted. He’d always liked the night, until his parents got killed. Now it had become something sinister, a time when bad things happened, when the shadows came alive and threatened to gobble him up.
Stop being such a wimp, he told himself as he crept out of the room he shared with his dumb sister and crybaby brother. He was still angry about the scrap he’d had with Jason, couldn’t bring himself to fall asleep. He figured playing a few games on Falcon World would help calm him down. It wasn’t hard to find his aunt’s laptop. She’d left it in the living room, on the oak table. Oak was easy to recognize because it had all those lines running through it. That’s what his dad had said once. Noah never forgot anything his dad told him.
It helped that his uncle wasn’t sleeping in the living room anymore. He was sharing Aunt Becca’s bed now. What was up with that? Did that mean they were back together? Not that it mattered one way or the other. He was just curious.
He booted up the computer, logged on to the wireless network his dad had put in last year so he could stay in touch with the people he worked with whenever they were down here, then typed in the address for Falcon World. There were other kids on, probably from faraway places where it was much earlier.
“I’ve been W8ing 4 U.”
The unexpected message from Night-Owl shocked him. “Didn’t think you’d be up this late.”
“Y do U think I call myself Night-Owl?”
Noah sent his friend a laughing face to tell him he thought his joke was funny.
“How’s your vacation?”
“Sucks. My friend Jason pissed me off. He’s 8, so sometimes he acts VD.” Very dumb.
“Bet you whipped his butt.”
“Yup. But now I’m grounded. Stuck in my room all f**king day.”
His stomach clamped with anger at the thought of how his uncle had ordered him upstairs, taken away his Game Boy. It made him happy to know he was breaking Uncle Zach’s dumb rules. It also helped to talk to Night-Owl.
“The only thing parents R good 4 is punishing their kids.”
“Not yours. They let U play all U want, stay up till midnight.”
There was a long pause. Then Night-Owl answered. “My parents R dead.”
Noah’s heart folded with a painful thump. The need to confide in someone—anyone—was a painful blister in his gut. “Mine 2.”
“What happened?”
“Some AH broke in and shot them.” His chest grew so tight he had trouble breathing. The images came again, hot and suffocating. “I still remember his face.” It was the first time he’d admitted this to anyone, but it needed to be said, and Night-Owl was the easiest person to say it to.
“You saw the killer?”
“Yeah.”
“What d’you do?”
A sob spread around his heart, but he struggled to keep it inside. He was afraid if he started crying he’d never be able to stop. The weight of his guilt crushed him. He touched his index finger to the keyboard and typed one word. One word that threatened to make the tears come. “Nothing.”
PART THREE
Revelations
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than you
can understand.
William Butler Yeats, “The Stolen Child”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Noah was gone. Rebecca had searched the house twice, then scoured the beach, to no avail. Her pulse thundering, she raced back into the beach house and woke Zach, who lay sprawled on the bed, a peaceful expression on his face. She hated having to worry him, but she had no choice.
Where could Noah have run off to?
Zach groaned and parted his lids. “Where’s the fire?”
“It’s Noah. I can’t find him.”
The haze of slumber instantly cleared. Zach shot up in bed, his expression murderous. “He took off?”
“I don’t know. He wasn’t in his room when I got up. I searched the whole house and the beach.”
“Did you check with Pat and Tess?”
Rebecca nodded. “Tess hasn’t seen him. Pat wasn’t around. He went fishing. He left at the crack of dawn.”
He rubbed his eyes, clambered out of bed and yanked on his shorts. “How about Kristen? Did Noah tell her where he went?”
She shook her head and followed him out of the room. “She says she didn’t hear him get up.”
When they got downstairs, Kristen was sitting on the couch, her arms crossed over her chest, her bottom lip set in a pout. Will was fussing, tugging at his ear as he chewed up a notepad he’d gotten from a nearby end table.
“Kristen,” Zach said, “do you have any idea where your brother may have gone?”
Her bottom lip trembled. Moisture pearled at the corners of her lashes. “I didn’t see him. I don’t know.” A teardrop trailed down her rosy cheek.
Zach sighed long and hard. “When I get my hands on that kid…”
“Don’t be mad at Noah.” Kristen hopped onto her feet. “You’ll make him sad. I don’t like it when Noah’s sad.”
Rebecca approached her niece and placed a comforting arm around her shoulders. “We’re not mad, sweetie. We just want to find him.” Dread tingled in her gut. What if they were too late? What if he’d gone swimming by himself? What if…
Zach seemed to reach the same conclusion. Suddenly, he bolted out the back door and sprinted toward the water. The waves were rough today, loud and choppy. Foam pooled at the shore, only to be violently sucked in again.
Despite a healthy tan, his face looked ashen. She caught up in time to hear him say, “It’s gone,” and followed his gaze to where the canoe had been tethered.
All that remained was an empty wooden post. She hadn’t noticed that before. “He didn’t!”
Zach ran antsy fingers through his hair. “Then how do you explain the missing canoe?”
“Maybe he went to the Seashore.” They both turned to find Kristen standing behind them, her arms clasped behind her back, her knees jerking restlessly.
“The seashore?” Zach watched his niece steadily.
The girl pointed east, where the National Seashore acted as a barrier between Chatham Harbor and the Atlantic Ocean. A bramble of trees sat nestled among golden dunes beneath an overcast sky. “Daddy used to take us there all the time in the canoe. Noah likes the dunes at the cove.”
Clomping across the beach, Tess approached them, with her daughter’s hand clasped protectively in hers and Jason following a safe distance behind. “Did you find him?”
Rebecca and Zach shook their heads simultaneously. “But we have an idea where he might’ve gone.” Zach stared pensively at the breathtaking stretch of land at the other side of the harbor. “Doesn’t look too far. I could probably swim there.”
Rebecca’s heart spun and crashed. “You’ll drown.”
He skewered her with a blistering glare. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“You don’t swim.”
“Just because I don’t swim doesn’t mean I can’t.” He ventured a few feet into the water. Rebecca gripped his arm.
Pain and urgency flashed in his cobalt-blue eyes. “I have to find him, Becca. I have to find my sister’s son.” His voice cracked, and something inside her broke.
“Take the dinghy,” Tess interrupted. “The motor’s broken, but you can still row.”
“Thank you,” Rebecca told her. “You’re a lifesaver.” She turned to Zach. “I want to come with you.”
“I don’t need a lifeguard.”
“I’m worried about Noah, too. I’ll go stir-crazy waiting for you to come back.”
Obstinacy slid into compassion. “What about Kristen and Will?”
“I’ll watch them,” Tess offered.
Rebecca could’ve kissed the woman. She squeezed her hand in a gesture of appreciation. “Thank you,” she said again. “Thank you so much.”