I kept going, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other. I knew exactly where I was going.
The place where Luke had died.
The first year, I'd driven down to the spot near the beach, parked my car and sat there nearly the entire day, crying, pounding on the steering wheel. Since then, I'd chosen to run to the spot, knowing that I'd burn off some of the energy that the memory of the day brought with me. I wasn't entirely sure why I felt the need to revisit the spot for the last three years, except that it was the last place I'd been when I'd felt whole. When I'd had Luke, when I'd had my brother, and when everything had seemed to fit. Ever since that night, I'd felt fractured and I kept thinking that going back to the place, to that moment in time, might make me feel whole again.
It hadn't happened yet.
I sat on the retaining wall that divided the boardwalk from the sand and stared at the spot on the asphalt where I'd knelt over Luke and realized he was going to die. And just like the previous years, I repeated my actions. Took a step forward and knelt down, my eyes trained on the pavement, noticing every fracture, every crack. If someone had seen me, they probably would have thought I was just a tired runner, resting, catching my breath.
I was definitely catching my breath, but it had nothing to do with running.
After awhile, I took off my shoes and socks, set them on the wall and walked down to the edge of the water. Last year, I promised myself I'd step into the ocean, but I'd failed. I'd tried a few other times, different beaches, different times. I'd get close, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. The water still reminded me too much of Luke – the memories we'd shared and the moments we'd never have. As much as I wished for it to disappear, it remained, this invisible barrier that held me back.
I dug my toes into the sand, just far enough away from the water so that, even as the tide came in, I knew the dying waves wouldn't reach me. The beach was mostly empty. The early afternoon exercisers had retired and gone home, leaving me with my memories and a late day hazy sun.
I stood there for awhile, thinking about Luke, about Leo, wishing that things were different. But, like always, I knew it wasn't. I knew I couldn't change anything, that we couldn't go back in time. Luke was gone, Leo was in jail and I was just...there. Existing but not really living.
I took a deep breath and took one last look at the water. I'd done it. I'd come back and faced the demons, just like I had the previous two years. And it still ached and nothing felt better, nothing felt normal. But I'd faced it. I could breathe a little, knowing I wouldn't return for another year, knowing I could do my best to try to forget, to try to get back to the normal tasks of my everyday life.
I breathed in the water, my foot poised just above the sea foam. I was inches away. The mist from the wave grazed my foot. All I had to do was take a step forward.
Maybe next year.
I expelled a breath and turned around. The sand was deserted.
Almost.
One person was on the beach with me. Walking toward me.
It was the last person I expected to see.
FORTY
Gina
Keith Branagan, the guy Kellen had fought with and later apologized to, was standing there, smiling at me. His shaved head was wet and he wasn't wearing a shirt. There was a small lightning bolt tattooed on his left shoulder, a shiny board tucked under his right arm.
“I thought that was you,” he said. He propped his board in the sand and folded his arms across his massive chest. “Handler's attorney. Or whatever you are.”
I didn't say anything. What the hell was he doing in Encinitas?
He glanced past me toward the water. “He out here? Surfing or something?”
“No.”
He licked his lips and squinted at me. “What are you doing down here?”
“Just out walking,” I said. “But I was headed home.”
His mouth twisted into an ugly grin. “You know, my dad wasn't real happy with that shit you pulled at our house. He's been cussing you out ever since you left.”
I felt my pulse quicken but managed to keep my voice steady. “That right?”
He nodded slowly. “That's right. He didn't like being set up.”
I looked up and down the beach. We were the only ones there. I didn't like being alone with him.
“I'm sorry he feels that way,” I said. “But I'm gonna get going.”
I went to step past him, but he slid over, blocking my way.
“Whoa,” he said. “Don't be in such a hurry. We're just chatting.” He smiled again, but it wasn't friendly. He jerked his head toward the road. “My dad owns a place just up the beach here. That's why I'm down here surfing today. Maybe you wanna go back there and...chat.”
I took a step back, making sure there was distance between us. “Like I said, I'm heading home.”
He ignored what I said. “So why are you working with a guy like Handler?” he asked, tilting his head to the side, questioning. “He's a piece of shit.”
Instinctively, I felt for the pockets in my shorts, but I didn't have my phone. I'd left it at home. I did have my keys, though. I pulled them out and clutched them in my hand.
“Look, I really don't think it's a good idea for us to be talking,” I said. “Mr. Handler apologized. You got what you wanted.”
“How do you know that's what I wanted?” he said, then looked me up and down. “Maybe I wanted something more. You know?”
“Seriously?” I asked. “You're going to threaten me here? In public?”
“Who says I'm threatening you?” he asked, rubbing at his chin. Then he took a look around. “And looks to me like we've got some privacy. If you don't wanna go back to my place.”
I swallowed hard, trying to keep my cool. He was right. We were pretty much alone. He was bigger and stronger than I was. I clutched the keys tighter in my hand.
“I'm leaving,” I said.
I stepped past him and he grabbed my arm, spinning me back around. His fingers dug into my arms.
“You're not going anywhere, bitch,” he growled.
I'd manipulated the keys between my fingers and swung at his face. The keys gouged his cheek and he dropped my arm, his hands going to where the jagged metal had dug into his skin. He pulled his hands away and his fingers were covered in blood. There were three long bloody stripes on the side of his face.
I held the keys up in between us. “Touch me again and...”
He swung hard and knocked the keys from my hand, sending them to the sand. Before I could move to them, he stepped in front, blocking my path.
“And you'll what?” he said, his voice low, angry. “That was a fucking mistake.”
He reached for me again, but I slapped at his hands and turned to run. I took two steps, but then his leg swept across my feet and I fell to the sand. He came down to next to me, throwing his leg over me, pulling me into him. He smelled like sweat and body odor and I felt the bile rise up in my throat.
“See?” he said through gritted teeth. “Now it just looks like we're hanging out here on the beach, baby.”
I tried to wiggle against him, but his arms were like chains around me. He had my face against his chest and I tried to yell, but my voice was muffled.
“We're gonna have a little fun, baby,” he whispered, squeezing his arms tighter around me. “You'll like it, I promise.”
I tried to yell again, but he was squeezing me so tight, I couldn't make a sound. I kicked at his legs, but he just pressed his leg harder into mine, pinning them to the sand. To anyone in the distance, we probably looked like a couple hugging in the sand.
But I knew better.
And for the first time, I was afraid.
I needed to be calm and think.
I forced my body to relax and stop struggling. And like I'd hoped, he relaxed, too.
“Yeah, baby,” he whispered. “There you go. Let's just have a good time now.”
He moved his mouth near my ear, licked it with his tongue. On
e of the arms around me shifted and his hand squeezed my ass. I felt the bulge growing in his shorts, pressing into my thigh. He grunted and thrust into me, his dick wedging into the soft space between my thighs.
Jesus, no. I closed my eyes, blinking back tears. I lay as limp as a rag doll as his hand shifted to my breast. He squeezed it so hard I winced.
I shifted slightly but not enough to make him think I was trying to get away. I put my hand on his shoulder and forced myself to caress him lightly, He groaned again and tugged on my shorts. I lifted my head a little and saw his shoulder in front of me. The one with the lightning bolt.
I didn't think anymore, I just reacted. I jerked my head forward and bit down on that lightning bolt, the taste of salt and blood blossoming on my tongue. He yelled and pulled back and I brought my knee up as hard as I could between his legs.
He lifted off of me and pushed at my face, trying to detach my mouth from his shoulder. “Fucking bitch!”
I rolled away from him and tried to get to my feet, but he brought his arm across the back of my legs and I went down into the sand again. His hand wrapped around my ankle. I tried to kick free, but his grip was too strong and he was pulling me back to him. He was back on top of me before I could do anything.
“You fucking little bitch,” he said, pinning my arms to the sand and sliding over me, all of his body weight pressing me down. “Not cool.” He grinned down at me. “Now I'm gonna take my time.”
He pushed his hips into mine and I felt a fresh surge of panic. He was bigger than me. Stronger than me. And he was pissed.
He hovered over me, one hand tugging on my shorts, the other one holding both of my arms above my head. The ugly smile was plastered to his face. “Relax. You're gonna like...”
A foot crashed into his mouth and he reeled backwards, landing on his back at my feet. A body flashed over me and landed on his. I scrambled up on my hands and knees, my chest heaving.
Kellen.
Standing over him, dropping his fist repeatedly into Branagan's face. Branagan's body wiggled at first beneath him, then stopped moving.
“Kellen” I gasped. “Stop.”
He didn't, his fist pumping up and down like a piston.
I pushed myself to my feet, dizziness swirling around me. I crashed into Kellen but he didn't move, his fist still going to work.
“Stop!” I yelled at him, grabbing him around the neck. “Please! Stop!”
Kellen's entire body was shaking, his eyes wild, but he looked at me and they slowly focused. He stopped swinging. Branagan's face was an abstract painting of blood and sand, his eyes almost swollen shut.
He pushed off of Branagan's body and stood up. “Asshole.”
He reached for me and pulled me into his arms. I collapsed with relief against him. “Are you alright?”
I nodded. “Yes. No. I don't know.” I took mouthfuls of air, trying to slow my racing pulse. “I think so.”
His hands roved over me, but not in a sexual way. Like he was inspecting me, making sure I was okay. “Did that asshole hurt you?”
“No.”
His finger touched my mouth and he wiped my lips, my chin. He wiped the blood on his shirt. “Can't say the same for him.”
I almost smiled.
“The damage I did to his face?” Kellen glanced at Branagan, who was still crumpled on the ground. “Purely superficial. That number you did on his arm? He'll have that scar for life.”
I felt a surge of satisfaction hearing that. I was glad I'd hurt him. And I was glad – beyond glad – that Kellen had shown up.
“Hey,” I said, my voice sharp. “What are you doing here?”
It couldn't have been coincidence. Could it?
“Just had a feeling you might be here. Today.”
I stared at him. How did he know? What did he know? The questions were on the tip of my tongue but I didn't ask them.
Because it didn't matter.
All that mattered was that he'd shown up.
Kellen spoke. “Tell me what you want to do.”
I looked at him. “What?”
He motioned toward Branagan. “Want me to call the cops?” He held up his cell phone.
I thought for a minute. I didn't want him to walk away but I also didn't want the spotlight again. I didn't want to bring charges, didn't want to testify. I'd lived through all of that and even though the situation was different, I just wanted to put as much distance as I could between myself and what had just happened on the beach.
“Leave him. He won't do anything.”
Kellen raised an eyebrow. “You don't wanna call the cops?”
I grabbed Kellen's hand and pulled him back toward the boardwalk. “No. I just want to leave.”
FORTY ONE
Kellen
When I'd gotten to the beach, I'd parked my car and headed straight for the sand. I didn't really see anyone and I'd felt a twinge of disappointment. Maybe I'd been wrong. Maybe Gina hadn't gone back to where Luke had died. Maybe my instincts had been all wrong.
But then I recognized her shoes, sitting on the wall that separated the boardwalk from the beach.
And then I saw movement on the sand. A couple. Embracing.
But something was wrong.
I recognized Branagan immediately.
And then I saw Gina's face, her terror visible as she tried to kick free of him.
I didn't think, just reacted. I was pretty sure I'd never run that fast before.
She was still shaking as we walked to my car. I grabbed her shoes from the wall and held the door open for her. I closed it behind her and went around to the driver's side.
I closed the door, turned on the car, and the air conditioning hummed quietly.
“Do you want to tell me what happened?” I asked quietly.
Her head was back against the seat, her eyes closed. “I came down here. Today. I walked down on the sand. I turned around. And he was just...there.” She shook her head slowly. “Said his dad owns a place down here. Surfs down here. Bad coincidence.”
I nodded. “You sure he didn't hurt you?”
She shook her head. “Scared me more than anything.”
I stared through the windshield, waiting for Branagan to get up, just so I could get out of the car and knock his ass down again. If Gina hadn't pushed me off of him, I would've still been on top of him.
“I'm sorry,” I said, my voice tight.
“For showing up and kicking the shit out of him?” she asked. “I'm not. At all.”
“No. I'm sorry I didn't get here sooner,” I said.
“Couldn't have known.” She paused for a moment. “Why were you here, anyway?”
I hesitated. I didn't want to dump the truth on her, not with what she'd just gone through, but I didn't want to flat-out lie, either. “Came down to check out the waves.”
It was true. I had looked at the surf report, had noticed that the waves were breaking better south of my house.
“All the way down here?”
I shrugged. I felt her eyes on me, but I didn't know what she was thinking.
“You're lying,” she said.
“No. I'm not.” I turned the key in the ignition. “It might not be the only reason but it's one of them.”
“What are the others?”
I took a deep breath. “I know, Gina.”
FORTY TWO
Kellen
She didn't say anything.
“Did you hear me?” I asked, tearing my eyes from the road to glance at her.
She stared out the window. “I heard you.”
“I'm not Luke, Gina,” I said. “I'm not him.”
“I know,” she said quietly.
“Do you? Really?”
She shrugged.
“Gina. Talk to me.”
She leaned her head against the door window. I wasn't sure she was going to talk. I didn't know if she was still shaken up by what had happened on the beach, if she just didn't want to acknowledge Luke's death, or a little of bo
th.
“I don't want to go home,” she said.
“What?”
“I don't want to go home. Will you – can you take me to your place? Just for a little bit?”
I hooked a sharp right so we could hop on the on-ramp for the freeway. “Of course.”
We drove the half hour to San Clemente in silence. I stole glances at her as I drove but she just hugged the door, her eyes unfocused as she stared out the window.
“You hungry or anything?” I asked as we exited the freeway.
She shook her head.
We pulled up to my house and I killed the engine. She opened the car door, leaving her keys on the floor of the car. I jogged to the front door to get it unlocked and held it open for her. She hesitated for just a minute before crossing the threshold, then took a deep breath and stepped in.
She sat down on the couch.
“You want something to drink? Water? Something stronger?” All I had were a couple of bottles of beer from the night she'd last been there. For some reason, I hadn't been able to drink them.
“No.”
I took a seat next to her, close but not touching. She looked as fragile as a butterfly and I just wanted to reach out and touch her, to hold her in my arms. I folded my hands together so I wouldn't be tempted.
“I know you're not him,” she finally said.
“You don't have to talk about it.”
“I know,” she said. “But I want to. I think I need to.” She smiled a little. “And I promised. I don't make promises I can't keep.”
“Okay.”
“So I'm just gonna start at the beginning, tell you everything. So you know.” She took a deep breath, like she was steeling herself for some difficult task.
I waited.
She cleared her throat. “Luke was my boyfriend. Ever since high school. Junior year, actually. Everyone assumed we'd get married some day. He wanted to get married on the beach so we could surf after.
“He worked as a lifeguard and he loved to stay after his shift was over to help tourists learn to get up.” She shook her head. “I always told him he needed to open a surf school. He loved to teach people, loved when they got that thrill of getting up the first time. I mean, he loved it.”
I listened. He sounded like a good guy. “That's really cool.”
She nodded. “It was. He just thought everyone should get to experience the ocean like that. They should get to feel what it felt like to stand up on a wave and see the world differently.”
The XOXO New Adult Collection: 16 Full Length New Adult Stories Page 160