Except that Rafe wasn’t listening. He leaned in and barked something at her, something I was still too far away to hear. She snapped back and shoved him away. He loomed up again, but then it was my hands that shoved him away. The look on Rafe’s face flashed from anger to surprise to annoyance and back to a low-boiling fury. I didn’t care.
“You want to go, Rafe? Let’s go. I’ve had a fucked-up couple of days, and I’m so in the mood for a good fight it’s unreal.”
His eyes glared through me and then flicked to Ginny. I didn’t take my eyes off him.
Ginny growled. “I said go, Rafe.”
“You heard her,” I said as he glanced back at me.
“You’re gonna to wish you’d listened to me. He’s dangerous.” To me, it sounded more like a threat than a warning. I took a step forward.
He snarled. “Whatever, man. You’d never even touch me.”
Well, who was I to pass up an invitation like that? My fist drove hard into his stomach. We’d been too close together for him to see it coming, and I followed it closely with punch to the jaw. It was a cheap shot, and I knew it. I also didn’t care. I was tired of him hanging around, tired of him bothering Ginny. And after my day, and my discovery, I needed to hit someone.
“Evan, stop!”
I let her pull me away, but only because of the honest fear I could see in her eyes.
Rafe stood up with a grunt and a laugh.
“Not bad, orphan boy. I’ll give you that. But you ever try touching me again—”
“Rafe, that’s enough. Get out.”
I really wanted to just bury my fist in his face again and again. Knock the light out of those laughing eyes of his. But he turned around and walked off, without even a backwards glance.
Ginny didn’t say anything else. She just grabbed my hand and practically dragged me up to her room. I waited until her door shut before I started in. “Damn, he’s a fucking ass.”
“He’s just trying to help.”
“Bullshit, Ginny. I don’t like the way he looks at you.”
Her mouth twitched in a ghost of a smile. “You’re probably right. Lord today, I can’t believe you hit him.”
“I can’t believe you stopped me.” Truth was, I’d wanted to do more than hit him. I wanted to rip his head off, and I wasn’t sure why. But I knew it had everything to do with Ginny.
“You got a good hit in, sugar, but he’d have ripped you to shreds. I don’t think Rafe’s ever lost a fight, not even against Ben. You oughta be grateful I stopped it.”
I grunted. I wasn’t so sure, but it was done. I ran my hands through my hair and exhaled loudly. “Look, Ginny, I need to talk to you.”
She sat on her bed and bit her lip.
“Sugar, please. It’s been a long day, and I’m exhausted.”
“This is important.”
“Evan—”
“Fuck it to hell, Ginny.” I spun and reached for the hidden door in her wall. It slid open with a barely audible click. I didn’t look this time, just watched her face.
Shock. Horror. Numbness.
I could see her struggling for words and didn’t blame her. Behind the secret door, picture after picture covered the wall of the passage. Pictures of Ginny with me. Pictures of Ginny alone. Pictures of her in town, in Eyre House, on the property. Picture after picture after picture. Pictures of us kissing, of us at the beach. Of us sleeping and, well, not sleeping.
But every single one had Ginny in it.
She sat down hard on her bed, her face white. I waited while her eyes tracked across them all, and then finally down, to where a collection of dirty toy soldiers sat next to a small bundle of faded fabric. Fabric that had an equally faded red-brown stain, and was roughly the size of a small boy’s shirt and a small girl’s dress.
“No. Lord Almighty, no. No.” The words were a hoarse whisper.
“Ginny—”
“No! Just shut it, please!” Her voice cracked into a dry sob, and her hand covered her mouth. But her eyes never moved. “Please.”
I worked the latch and shut the passage before walking over to wrap my arms around her. She felt stiff and cold under my hands.
“I’m sorry, Ginny, but you’re not safe.”
“No. It’s not possible.”
“Ginny—”
“No! No, just get away!” She was sobbing, great gasping breaths and streaming tears, her hands pushing at me.
“Dammit, Ginny!”
“It’s not! It can’t be!”
I hadn’t wanted to show her. I knew what it might do to her, seeing her brother’s toys. I was sure they’d been his, the blue-and-grey paint faded from being under the tight-packed dirt. The clothes had been a particularly sick touch. They had to have been hers and Jaime’s from the day he died. Covered in his dying lifeblood.
But she needed to know. She did. It was the work of a seriously psychotic mind, and whoever it was—whether it was Ben or Rafe or someone else—he’d been way too close to her. To both of us.
And I was really beginning to wish it was Rafe. Except it couldn’t be. He’d been the first victim.
I didn’t even want to think about the possibility that somebody’d watched our interrupted efforts the night before. Or that it might’ve even pushed her stalker to create the interruption.
So I held her while she pushed me away, rocked her and told her how sorry I was, until she cried herself out.
Her mask was gone now. Destroyed. Shattered on the floor. What was left was not my Ginny. Just a broken shell that wouldn’t speak, wouldn’t move.
“I’m so sorry, Ginny.”
Nothing but silence.
“Don’t shut me out, Ginny. Please. Let me help.”
Still nothing. Words wouldn’t help me now. I cursed under my breath and pulled her tight against me. All I could do was wait until she was ready.
It was her touch that woke me. The storm had blown out, and moonlight streamed in the window. I hadn’t meant to fall asleep. I shouldn’t have been able to, not as worked up as we’d both been. But I had, and Ginny’s fingers against my face brought me back.
She didn’t say anything, just stared at me, moonlight reflecting in her eyes, until I was focused.
“How are you?” It was a stupid question, but it was all I could think to say.
She closed her eyes and turned away. “I’m sorry.”
I tightened my arms around her again. “So am I.”
She took a ragged breath.
“I know I’ve mentioned Jaime before. Funny how it’s not exactly a secret, not when the whole island knows. But nobody ever talks about it to my face. Just behind my back.”
I grunted. “I’m sorry.”
“I know.”
“Those were his…?” I didn’t want to finish the question.
“Yeah.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly before continuing. “I know you don’t trust Ben. I know you think this might be him. But it’s not, I swear.”
I waited for the explanation I knew was coming.
“My parents split after Jaime’s…after that. Daddy just walked out, happy to move in with that Ingram bitch. Melvina. Mama’s sister came up to be with her, and brought Ben. He’s the one who got me through it. He’s always been there for me, even when he joined up. Letters, visits when he was home. Always making sure I was okay. He’s been my only constant, the older brother I needed when I felt like I’d lost myself.”
I felt like an ass. Small wonder she’d go to any lengths to help him.
“Ben came back from Afghanistan without telling anyone except for Kelly. He picked up Pilot from her and came here.”
I shook my head. It still didn’t sound right, no matter what he’d done for her in the past. “Why? Why not tell everyone he was back?”
“He said it wasn’t safe. That I wasn’t safe.”
He sounded paranoid. Or right. I didn’t know anymore.
“He wanted to keep an eye on me without anyone knowin’ he was doin
g it.”
“Ginny…”
“I know, Evan. I know. But then stuff started happening, and I wondered if he was right.”
“Like the fire in my room.”
“He wouldn’t have done that. He wouldn’t risk the house.”
“But he stabbed Rafe.”
“I don’t… There’s got to be more to it than that. Ben wouldn’t do that. Rafe came out of nowhere wanting to talk to him, and Ben wasn’t at all happy. They went off—I didn’t see what happened.”
I took a deep breath and prayed I wasn’t about to put my foot in it.
“Have you considered that maybe he has PTSD?”
“That’s what Rafe said.”
I hated the defeat in her voice. “You don’t believe it?”
She shook her head slowly. “No. Rafe is… I don’t know.”
I felt the same way really. The guy bothered me on a visceral level I couldn’t pin down. “I understand believing Ben against Rafe. I do. But Ginny...”
“I have to believe him, Evan.” I almost didn’t hear her, she said it so quietly.
“You have to have more than that, Ginny. I don’t like Rafe, and I don’t like the way he looks at you, or how he’s always showing up at weird times and won’t leave you alone, but he’s the one who got stabbed.”
“Ben said he didn’t do it. I trust him.”
I sighed. I didn’t want to argue with her, but I couldn’t see a way around it. PTSD just made too much sense. I didn’t want to say it, but I thought it. Who else would know enough about her to find Jaime’s toys, his clothes? Her clothes?
But she believed him, and she had reason to. So against my better judgment, I just pulled her tighter and held her while she cried again. And when she was cried out, I helped her into her pajamas and tucked her in next to me.
“Ginny! The police are here, they’re saying Ben is…”
I shot upright, staring at Ms. Catherine, who stood in the doorway staring at Ginny and me. In the same bed. Her knuckles went white on the door handle.
“Ms. Catherine, I—”
Her eyes closed as her hand shot up, cutting me off. I think my heart jumped out of my chest and out the window. “Evan, please collect your things and go back to your room. I’d like to talk to my daughter.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I slid out of bed, embarrassed that I had nothing but boxer briefs on, and grabbed my clothes. I didn’t dare look at Ginny. Ms. Catherine stepped out of the doorway, still carefully ignoring me. There was a lot of not-looking going on, and I was just as glad.
The door slammed shut behind me. That didn’t stop me from hearing Ms. Catherine’s voice carrying through.
“Virginia Jane. An Eyre lady would never be caught in such a compromising position. And with that boy, who has tried so hard to protect you, and you’ve just strung him along…”
I couldn’t listen anymore. I’d just been caught in bed with my employer’s daughter. By my employer.
Who’d very clearly told me to keep to my own bed.
Fuck.
She was going to fire me.
And I deserved it.
I didn’t even think as I threw on clothes or packed my few things. She’d want me out immediately. I couldn’t blame her.
What a stupid fuck. I’d broken the only rule that mattered.
Don’t get caught.
I shoved a few changes of clothes in my backpack, and the rest in my duffel, and wondered where I’d go. Not back to Charleston. No question on that.
The letter from Savannah crinkled in my jacket as I tossed it on the bed.
Savannah.
They’d asked me to come visit.
I yanked the letter out and scanned it. Yes, there was a phone number. Perfect. I’d call them on the road. And if they turned me away, maybe I’d just keep driving.
Shoving the envelope back in my pocket, I grabbed my duffel. I figured I may as well take it down to the garage. Save me some time when Ms. Catherine came to fire me.
It wasn’t until I got outside that I remembered what she’d burst into Ginny’s room saying.
They’d found Ben.
The cops were walking him in handcuffs to the cars when I saw him. I froze, unable to move. It was probably for the best, but Ginny would be devastated.
Ben saw me just before they shoved him into the back of a patrol car. His docile cooperation evaporated as our eyes locked. He bucked backwards trying to throw off his escort, and screaming.
“She’s not safe! Evan—”
They piled on him before I could hear more. His words were drowned out by the shouts of half a dozen men. They shoved him into the car and slammed the door while he continued to yell.
I was still standing there when they drove off. I felt sick. As much as I was sure Ben was crazy with PTSD, this just didn’t feel right. But the police had their suspect, so maybe—right or not—Ginny was safe.
“Evan.”
I closed my eyes and turned. Ms. Catherine’s eyes flickered to my duffel while I tried to figure out what to say. I’m sorry just didn’t seem to cut it.
“Ma’am.”
“Now, sugar, just where do you think you’re going?”
“I thought it best, ma’am. Considering the circumstances.”
“Tell me, honey, do you always run when things go all to hell in a hand basket?”
I choked. “Ma’am?”
“Look, honey, I can’t say I’m happy about finding you in my daughter’s bed. Especially when I asked you as a personal kindness to me to stay out of it. But I suppose when my daughter was throwing herself at you, it was too much to ask. I do remember being a teenager.
“What I’m more unhappy about is learning that both of you were aware that Ben was hiding on the property, and neither of you saw fit to inform me of the fact. No one likes being blindsided by the police, sweetie.”
“I’m sorry, ma’am.”
“They’ve taken him then?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Well, damn. I’ll have to call my lawyer.” She pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. “Maybe it is best if you leave.”
And there it was. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Lord today, Evan. Didn’t you hear a word out of my mouth? I’m not firing you. I’m madder than a half-drowned cat in a sack, but on the list of things I’ve got to be angry about, you’re not even on the top five right now.” She stared at me for a moment and changed tack. “I got a call from Emmaline Rivers yesterday. We went to school together. I understand she’s been in touch with you through Social Services.”
I pulled the letter out of my pocket and looked at the name on the return address. Rivers.
“Seems that way, ma’am. She invited me to visit. Her letter didn’t say much, but Social Services said something about a familial claim…” I was babbling, and I knew it.
“Take some time off. Go visit. Give us time to sort out everythin’ here. I’ll let the police know where to contact you if they have a need. But, Evan?” She looked at me hard. “I expect you back in two weeks, young man.”
I nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Evan.”
“Yes, Ms. Catherine.”
“Now, go tell Ginny. Sneaking out isn’t becoming.”
She didn’t wait for my reply before she turned on her heel and left. I tossed my duffel back over my shoulder and walked back upstairs to exchange it for my backpack.
Ginny was in her room, hugging her pillow. Her eyes flicked to my bag as I walked in. “You’re leaving?”
I nodded, dropping my backpack outside the door. “Your mother thought it was best.”
She dug her chin into the top of her pillow. “They took Ben, didn’t they?”
“Yeah. They did. Maybe that’s for the best, too.”
She threw her pillow at the wall and shot up off the bed towards me, her expression suddenly fierce. “Of course it’s for the best. Leaving me always is. Jaime. My daddy. Ben. Figu
res you’d be no different.”
My head reeled from the surprise. “Ginny, I’m just—”
She shoved me away. “Get the fuck out, Evan. I don’t need you.”
“What the hell?” My hands came up defensively. “I’m just—”
“I don’t want your excuses! All your promises, and you’re just like the rest! I don’t need your help, and I don’t need you. So just leave! Leave, like everyone else!”
Still too stunned to figure out what was going on, I didn’t realize she’d pushed me out the door until it closed in my face. I ran a hand through my hair and stared at the door.
“Shit. Ginny! I’m coming back.”
“Go to hell!”
I thumped on the doorframe and seethed.
“Dammit, Ginny!” My fist hit the door. “You’re the one who kept pushing me away! You, not me! You wanted a summer fling—you got one. But you don’t get the right to blame me for leaving!”
I hit the door again, but she didn’t answer. I could hear her crying on the other side. I waited for another moment before turning around and walking back to my room. Part of me wanted to break in and explain. The other part just wanted to get the hell out of this looney bin.
Even though everything I cared about was crying against that door down the hall.
I did a quick scan of my room, making sure I had everything I needed. My duffel, I tossed in the closet. Ms. Catherine expected me back, and leaving it would make sure I didn’t chicken out. And maybe Ginny would see it and realize I wasn’t leaving her.
I hoped.
With nothing else to do, I walked downstairs and out to my bike, cranked the engine, and drove away wondering what the hell had just happened.
I merged the Indian onto I-95 and cranked the throttle wide open. The speed felt good, even if I was fighting full-on summer beach traffic. Once I passed the Beaufort exit, it wasn’t quite open road, but it was close enough.
Emmaline Rivers had seemed happy enough when I stopped at a gas station outside Hilton Head and took the opportunity to call the number she’d put in the letter. Even moreso to hear I was free to come right away.
I tried not to think about how I’d left Ginny.
It wasn’t like I was leaving for good. I hadn’t even taken all of my stuff. But a voice in the back of my head still whispered that I was running away. Ms. Catherine didn’t fire me. She’d probably have understood if I’d insisted on staying for Ginny. But I didn’t. After the first fifty miles, I stopped trying to rationalize, and just admitted it. She’d pushed me away, just like Tom had warned me she would, and it had hurt.
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