Watermark (The Emerald Series Book 3)

by James, Kimberly

  "College, I guess." I stared into my mug as if it contained prophetic tea leaves. Deep down I knew what felt right, what my heart was telling me. I'd been waiting for someone else to tell me what to do when really this was my decision to make, and in the end I would be disappointed in myself if I let someone else make it for me.

  "Don't make this a choice between Jamie and college. Being with Jamie doesn't keep you from going to college," she said practically, in essence taking away any excuses on my part. In her gentle and subtle way she was forcing me to own up to the real issue, and it wasn't whether I wanted to attend college. It was whether I wanted to remain married.

  "I see myself as not married." I swallowed and was surprised at the acrid taste of making even the right decision. The thought of hurting Jamie, as I knew I would, made my throat grow tight, and I had a hard time breathing. I'd promised myself I wasn’t going to cry. That I would be mature and face this head on and objectively, but the tears swelled anyway. It was like admitting Jamie was a mistake.

  “Of course you don’t honey. You’re eighteen years old. You have so much life ahead of you.”

  “But I love him.” And I did. Just not enough to stay with him.

  “I know you do.” Her warm fingers fell on my forearm, the squeeze gentle and full of understanding.

  “He won’t understand.” The words stuttered past my trembling lips.

  “He loves you, Erin. He’ll want what’s best for you.” She tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “He might not see it at first, but he will understand. Eventually.”

  I wasn’t so sure. She hadn’t seen his face last night as I'd sat on the bed begging him to stay with me. But he'd wanted more than my body. He'd wanted all of me, and that was more than I was prepared to give him.

  “He’ll never forgive me.” He’d hate me. I'd found a way to live in a world without Jamie. I didn’t know if I could live in a world where Jamie hated me.

  “He will. But that’s not what’s important here. The important thing is to do what’s best for you," she said.

  I’d never ended a marriage before. Pregnant, married, and divorced by the age of nineteen was not the fairy tale I’d hoped to live. But then, I didn't believe in those anymore.

  "What do I do now?" I asked, hardly able to credit the decision I'd just made.

  “I can set something up with a lawyer if you want,” she said gently. "But you need to talk to Jamie. You need to be honest with him."

  “Okay.” What was I saying? What was I agreeing to?

  “It’ll be all right.” Her fingers squeezed my hand. “You’ll see.”

  I wanted so badly to believe her.

  * * *

  I let Ally talk me into spending the next afternoon with her hanging out on the village square. The lawn was the perfect place to spend a Sunday afternoon. Frisbees saucered through the air among a virtual parade of dogs on leashes. Across the street, the beach access teamed with activity. Music blared through someone's car stereo as a group of guys from school, Derrick being one of them, loitered behind a truck with the tailgate down, cruising between the square and the beach. Right now, they were yelling at people as they drove by, running around the parking lot pretty much acting like high school guys.

  Ally and I lay on a blanket in the grass, faces to the sky, basking in the early November sun. White, puffy clouds drifted across the bright blue canvas.

  "There's a mushroom," I said at the same time she said, "There's a penis."

  We looked at each other and burst out laughing, and the release of tension felt so good. I couldn't remember the last time I'd really laughed. And after my talk with my mom, I needed to laugh. Feel like a teenager again.

  "Maybe you need to go out on a date or something," I said, my smile sticking.

  "Pfft." She waved her hand. "Have you seen the guys at our school?" We looked over when Derrick yelled something crude and what should have been socially unacceptable to a woman jogging on the bike path. "They're all pigs."

  "Don't let Jax ruin it for everyone else. They aren't all pigs." My mind immediately went to Michael, but something kept me from offering his name as proof.

  "At least I never slept with the asshole," she said.

  "What?" My voice shrilled in skepticism.

  "Well, we did just about everything else, but my hymen is still intact." Ally sat up, crossing her legs at the ankles. "I guess I always knew deep down he wasn't the one, you know."

  "Yeah, I do. You don't know how relieved I am you didn't give it up to that turdwipe."

  "Speaking of turdwipes," she said, after taking a sip of her strawberry smoothie. I followed her narrow-eyed gaze. Caris and Jeb were walking down the sidewalk. They each held an ice cream cone. "Don't they look super cozy together.”

  About that time Caris saw us too and she elbowed Jeb, before skirting in our direction. Silver wisps of her hair flew on the feather-light breeze. She must not have cut it in a few days, and it hung around her shoulders in a soft drape. Every time I saw her she looked more extraordinary. I tried not to be mad at her. Tried real hard not to hate her just a little. She couldn't help it she was everything I would never be, and in so many moments since Jamie's return, wished I was. A girl like Caris could handle Jamie. Now that the decision had been made, I was certain Jamie would only be happy with someone of his own kind. I kept telling myself he'd thank me one day.

  Jeb followed Caris at a less than enthusiastic pace, his eyes concentrated on his double scoop of chocolate. I heard Ally let out a long breath, and it sounded an awful lot like a dreamy sigh. I'd always suspected she secretly had a crush on Jeb, though most of the time they were like oil and water.

  "Hey," Jeb said to me, stopping just short of touching his feet to the blanket. "You doing okay?"

  "Yeah," I said. Maybe it was just me but an awkward silence followed, as if Caris and Jeb knew what I intended to do, though I'd only decided yesterday, like my decision to divorce Jamie was written all over my face. Mrs. Jacobs had said I was family, that I would have been even if Jamie hadn't come back. I wondered if they would still feel that way when the day came I was no longer Jamie's wife.

  Caris and Ally exchanged a cool greeting before Caris plopped down on the blanket beside me. The more Caris grew into herself, the thicker the angst between her and Ally grew. I doubted the three of us would be having anymore girls’ nights.

  "Hey, Al," Jeb said, kicking the bottom of her foot with his toe.

  "You have ice cream on your chin," she said.

  He grinned and crouched in front of her, tonguing the brown smear. "You want to lick it off for me?"

  "I'd rather lick the bottom of Derrick Nash's dirty shoe," she said with all the venom of a coral snake.

  "You keep telling yourself that,” Jeb said, taking another lick of his ice cream before turning to Caris. “I’ll wait for you on the beach.”

  Jeb took half-a-dozen strides then must have thought better of leaving Caris behind. Derrick and his buddies had huddled closer to the road and kept looking over at us. At them. Cutting looks ensued.

  "I better go," Caris said, hopping to her feet. "Before Jeb starts cracking heads. See you later."

  "Yeah, see you later," I said, watching her catch up with Jeb, all golden long legs. He took her by the elbow, putting himself between her and Derrick and friends. I hadn't been out in public much and had about decided nothing had changed, that the climate between us and them was what it had always been—tolerable.

  "Jeb might be a good distraction for you," I put to Ally, knowing she was watching his departure. He'd hit the boardwalk, and he was so tall I could still see the top of his head gleaming in the sun like the glow of a lighthouse.

  “Like getting involved with one of them turned out so good for you," she said flippantly.

  I froze. One of those puffy clouds floated over the sun and goosebumps rose on my arms.

  "I'm sorry. That came out wrong," she said, but I had a feeling it had come out exactly how she meant i
t—a moment of unguarded candor. I was aware Ally could be a bitch. She'd just never been a bitch to me before.

  I brushed at my legs. "You know, I'm tired of the sun. I think I'll head home."

  "I didn't mean for it to sound like that, but you can't expect… after what Jamie…" she fumbled her words, and the stain on her cheeks was telling.

  "No problem." I turned on my heel and headed for my car.

  I hadn't locked my doors and when I settled behind the wheel, I smelled the fish immediately. With all that had happened in the last few weeks I'd forgotten about the dead fish incidents. Since I was no longer attending school, I assumed they were over, but it seemed my psycho bully had found me. I leaned over and pulled the glove box open and gagged at the wall of stink that blasted me.

  "What the crap?" I slammed the glove box closed but now that the stench had escaped there was no containing it. I rolled down the windows to find Ally outside the door looking dejected.

  My eye caught on the bright yellow Frisbee behind her as it flew through the air and right into the hands of Derrick Nash.

  I grabbed the fish out of the glove box and threw the door open.

  "Where are you going?" Ally asked as she dodged the swinging door. She eyed the fish in my hand like I held a grenade and had just pulled the pin.

  "Unfinished business," I said and pushed past her.

  "Erin wait," Ally called, but I was on a mission. I had enough to deal with. I didn't need this shit right now. Of all the stupid, immature…

  "Hey Derrick!" The fish sailed through the air, slapping Derrick in the back of the head.

  “What the—" He spun to face me.

  "I get it," I fumed. "It's real funny."

  "You got something you need to get off your chest, Shaw?"

  "I want you to stop being such a prick."

  "You think I had something to do with this?" He toed the fish. "Whatever this is."

  "Are you saying you didn't?" I challenged.

  “I haven’t got a clue what you’re going on about. And really, I don’t care,” he sneered.

  I was well aware we were drawing a crowd and decided confronting him wouldn't do much good. I didn't really want an audience, didn't need any more tongues wagging about me. I turned around and retraced my steps, intent on getting back in my Tahoe. I didn't have to see the likes of Derrick ever again.

  "How's the hubby?" Derrick called after me. "He grow a tail yet?"

  I whirled back around, surveying Derrick's six-foot-two inch frame. I heard my dad’s voice in my head. Walk away. He outweighs you by a hundred pounds. I cut the voice off, wishing I were a dude. I would so kick his ass.

  "I gotta wonder why you never told anybody about the fish thing?" he asked loud enough for my classmates to hear—ex-classmates now. They were circling up like Derrick and I were about to throw down. "Not even daddy. Why is that? Is it because deep down you know how sick it was to let that freak between your legs? What really happened to your baby? Was it some kind of freak too?”

  My hand was already in a fist when I took two steps toward him. Stupid Derrick didn't see me as a threat, not a physical one. It took him totally by surprise when I punched him as hard as I could right below his sternum. His eyes nearly bulged out of his head, mostly from shock, and as soon as he hunched over, gasping for the breath I'd managed to knock out of him, I kneed him in the chin the way I'd practiced with my dad.

  "Son of a bitch."

  At least that's what I thought he tried to say. He wouldn't be saying much for the next few minutes. I wasn't sure how Derrick felt about hitting a girl, but I would be an idiot to think he wouldn't do something. I got my answer before I could finish the thought when his fist plowed into my face. My head snapped back, teeth and jaws clapping together. I tasted blood. I teetered on noodle-like legs, too stunned to do anything but try to keep from falling on the ground. I managed, clawing at Derrick with renewed outrage. A car horn blared and the screech of tires joined in the ringing between my ears. Everything went black for a few seconds, and I considered throwing up.

  “Get your hands off her, Nash."

  Was that Michael? I hadn't even realized Derrick had his hands on me. Maybe that's why I hadn't fallen to the ground yet.

  Derrick's buddies were yelling at him to back off, one or two of them making a grab for him. He wasn’t getting much support for beating up on a girl, which made me feel a bit better about my classmates, though none of them had tried to stop him. None of them had jumped to my defense at his noxious words. No doubt more than a few of them agreed with Derrick. An older man walking his dog threatened to call the police. I jerked when the hands curled around my arms and my eyes swiveled into a pair of Bambi eyes.

  “Erin.” Michael’s voice chased the blackness away. It felt as if I had a balloon in place of my head. Derrick hadn’t held anything back. I was all for equality, and I had pretty much gone apeshit on his ass but… but nothing. Derrick was a raving lunatic. My head bobbled in Derrick's direction.

  “He’ll kill you for this,” I said and a sadistic laugh escaped my throat.

  Derrick's eyes widened as if he’d just realized what he’d done. He had scratches on his face, deep crimson lines left from my fingernails, and blood dribbled between his lips. “That freak is going to kill you.”

  “Erin, stop,” Michael said, holding me back when I made to lunge at Derrick again. Then I realized he wasn’t holding me back. He was pushing me out of the way so he could go after Derrick himself.

  “No, Michael,” I yelled, but he didn’t listen. I didn’t need Michael to fight my battles, didn’t want him to. I winced when he punched Derrick. At least he was going for the gut and not the face. He didn't need to mess up his hands.

  “You’ve been harassing her all year,” Michael accused.

  “Get off me, man. You wouldn’t be so quick to defend her if you knew what she spread her legs for.”

  Michael punched him in the face this time. Derrick's head whipped back and blood sprouted from his nose. Then a convergence of hands pulled Derrick away, his eyes blazing at me.

  “Fuck you," Derrick said, red spittle running down his chin. “Crazy bitch,” he muttered as he backpedaled his way to his truck and a couple of his friends helped him into the seat. Someone stuck a shirt in his face and he held it to his nose. The engine turned over, and Derrick punched the gas as he pulled off the side of the road, tires spewing loose gravel.

  “Erin, are you okay?” Ally was beside me, letting me lean on her as she and Michael lowered me to the ground.

  Good question. I waited for the stars spinning around my head to clear and the thumping in my ears to cease.

  “How many fingers am I holding up?” Michael asked.

  “Let’s take her to the emergency room.” That was Ally. I shook my head at her.

  “No,” I said then focused on the hand in front of me. “Three.” Damn, it came out sounding like a question.

  “You’re guessing,” Michael said.

  “No, I’m not. Three. And that’s my final answer.”

  Michael dropped his hand, but his eyes stayed on my face and the muscle in his jaw ticked.

  “I’m okay, really.” Michael and Ally wore similar anxious expressions.

  “Well, you don’t look okay. Your cheek is already starting to swell,” Ally said.

  Great, that’s all I needed.

  “It really doesn’t hurt. I’ve taken it worse from a volleyball.” My attempted smile wavered before it could fully bloom. It hurt worse than I was letting on.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to go somewhere and get some ice on that?” Michael asked.

  “I'll do it at home. It’s fine.”

  It took me another fifteen minutes to persuade Michael he didn't need to drive me home. In the end, I agreed to let him follow me. He tucked me in the front seat of my Tahoe, closing me inside, the stench of dead fish still in the air. I waved through the open window, anxious to get home before my dad or Jamie got wind o
f this. Or worse, someone sent a video or a picture. Because I hadn’t been joking when I’d threatened Derrick. Jamie would kill him.

  31

  The bastard had hit me.

  I looked at my face in my visor mirror, fingering the swell of skin under my left eye. It was purpling fast and wouldn’t go away with a bit of ice. It would take days to heal. I couldn't avoid Jamie for days.

  Still fuming over what had happened, I stormed into the foyer, the voices coming from the kitchen failing to register until I’d walked in on my dad and Jamie sitting at the kitchen table deep in conversation. Jamie sat slumped against the back of his chair, his legs extended and his ankles crossed, totally at ease. His relaxed state changed the second his eyes settled on my swelling skin. The air shifted as though Jamie were some low-level atmospheric disturbance.

  “What happened to you?” His low-pitched voice sent a chill over my skin.

  The trees outside the kitchen doors swayed heavily in a new wind and the house emitted a groan. My gaze veered to my dad even though it had been Jamie who had asked. It was easier to lie to my dad.

  “Me and Ally were playing volleyball on the beach. Got beamed in the face. Guess I’m out of practice.”

  “You need to get some ice on that,” my dad offered, looking unconcerned.

  Jamie was a different matter. He was staring hard at my face and might as well have been made of stone.

  “That’s what I was about to do,” I said, but before I could get my feet to move, Jamie sprang from his chair and made for the refrigerator. He opened the freezer door and riffled through the frozen food. I leaned against the counter as he headed toward me armed with a bag of peas.

  He placed them on the counter beside me before picking me up and setting me on the granite. He pressed the peas gently to my cheek.

  “That better?” he asked with such tenderness my heart sank.

  I hated the way just having his eyes on me made the world seem like it wasn't out to get me. How he could make everything right with a look. I wanted him to put those impressive arms around me, but that wasn't right. He wasn't mine anymore. He might not know it yet, but he wasn't mine.