The Girls Across the Bay

by Emerald O'Brien

  She sat down, and Buster flopped down at her feet, staring up at her.

  She stole glances at Will, avoiding eye contact by feigning interest in the hedges surrounding the yard. Her heart thudded hard in her chest, making it difficult to concentrate.

  “How was your day?” he asked.

  She sighed.

  “That bad?”

  “I’d rather not get into it. I know we need to talk,” she said, licking her lips with a dry tongue. “I’d rather just get it over with.”

  “Alright.” He set his glass on the table. “Lately, you’ve seemed kind of distant. I guess it’s been a month now.”

  Since Grace came. It’s been since then, but you won’t say it. You won’t blame her.

  Madigan folded her arms over her chest. “I’m sorry.”

  “I know,” he sighed. “I know. I didn’t even want to bring it up again, but after last night with my parents—”

  “I know. It was worse than I thought it’d be.”

  “It didn’t make things easier,” he said and sat forward in his chair.

  Here it comes. I’ve never been this close to someone breaking up with me.

  She opened her mouth, eager to break up with him before he could crush her, but his light eyes stared back at her with the glow of the lantern in his irises, and she couldn’t put out the light within him.

  He doesn’t deserve a broken heart, either.

  “Do you love me, Madigan?”

  She swallowed hard.

  Yes. I do.

  She could think it and feel it, but she couldn’t utter the words. She hadn’t been able to since she fell for him.

  It won’t do me any good to confess it now.

  “It’s just I say it, and then you don’t,” he said and held up his hand. “I know, I know. You’ve had a past most couldn’t understand, and I don’t claim to, but I know you’ve been hurt. I know your trust has been broken. I already know what I need to do, but I want to know. Don’t I deserve that?”

  She nodded. “I love you, Will,” she whispered with tears in her eyes. “You’re one of the best things to ever happen to me, and I’ve blown it. I do it every time, so I’m not surprised, but you don’t deserve it. You—out of everyone—don’t deserve this.”

  He scratched his head. His chest heaved, and he stood from his chair.

  “I was trying to say that I’m sorry, Will,” she said, clenching the armrests of her chair. “You deserve someone more stable. More present.”

  He searched the area around them, seeming to ignore her pleas.

  “Will, you know what we need to do, and so do I.”

  “Ah,” he said, lifting the lantern off the table and grabbing a small remote.

  He pressed a button, and tiny string lights glowed in the bushes, woven through the hedges surrounding them.

  “Will,” she said, looking up at him, “what is this?”

  He bent down, and her heart dropped as he rested one knee against the patio.

  “Will,” she hissed, shaking her head and grabbing at his arms. “You’re not doing this.”

  “Babe, I know you’re scared of commitment, and I was too, before I met you,” he said, grabbing her hand.

  She stood and used his hand to pull him to his feet.

  “Babe—” he started.

  “Will,” she whispered with tears in her eyes, face to face with the man she loved.

  But not enough.

  “I can’t do this,” she said, and his grin faded. “You can’t do this.”

  “I don’t understand,” he said, his brows pushed closer together. “Why?”

  “It just doesn’t feel all the way right,” she said, sighing.

  It makes even less sense saying it out loud.

  “But you love me. And I love you. You know that. Madigan, I want to marry you. I’ve wanted to since the moment we met. You brought something to life in me. Something I didn’t know was there. I told my parents right away. They knew I was going to do this, and that’s why my mom got so upset.”

  “I can’t.” Her whole body shook in the cool night air.

  I can’t be with Will and be thinking the way I do about Jack whenever he’s around.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I can’t explain it more than it—it just doesn’t feel right,” she said.

  He let go of her hand and let it drop to his side.

  “Will.”

  She clenched her cold hands into fists, already missing the heat that radiated from him.

  “You don’t want this,” he said. “You don’t want me?”

  “I thought I did.” She folded her arms over her chest and hugged herself, eager to ease her jitters.

  He shook his head and rubbed the back of his neck, looking around the yard.

  He doesn’t understand because we don’t feel the same way.

  He cares more.

  “I’m not trying to confuse you, or hurt you. It’s the last thing I want. It’s just not fair to you. You’re this freakin’ brain surgeon. This man with it all. The house. The career. The doting parents. The bright future. I don’t fit into that, Will.”

  “Stop. Stop that right now. I knew you felt that way, but I tried to make you see. I tried to make you feel like you’re worthy. It’s a victim mentality, Madigan.”

  “Maybe.” She shrugged her shoulders.

  Tears spilled down her cheeks. The painstaking reality of the end twisted in her stomach.

  “We just don’t belong together.”

  He stepped away from her. “Why can’t you just accept love?”

  She shook her head, crying.

  I want to.

  “You know none of it matters, right? None of what you said matters. I’ve worked hard for my career, but it’s taxing. I’ve bought a house, a car, but these are things. Just things. You can’t hold it against me that I have parents and that they love me.”

  She winced, and he stepped toward her.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, trying to reach out to her. “You know I didn’t mean it like that.”

  “I know.” She pressed her arms against her abdomen.

  I feel sick.

  Maybe I’ve made the wrong decision.

  “But don’t you get it?” Will raised his voice. “I’ll never have a love like yours. I’ll never find someone I want more than you.”

  He knelt on one knee, his eyes searching hers.

  “So tell me you don’t deserve this life, and I’ll prove to you that you do. Tell me you love me, but you’re just scared, and I promise I won’t let you get hurt. I’ll protect you. Tell me anything, Madigan, anything, and I’ll be here for you, but if you don’t want me to—just say it.”

  Her heart felt like it was ripping apart in her chest with each word he spoke. Each kind gesture she felt she didn’t deserve. But in the end—it wasn’t about whether or not she deserved him.

  I’m sacrificing what could be for a feeling I’m chasing.

  A great love for a love that is unrequited.

  She opened her mouth to speak—to tell him she didn’t want him—but she couldn’t force herself to say it. Putting the onus on herself had been easier.

  It’s my fault after all.

  “Be straight with me,” he said, grabbing for her hand, and she let him take it, “because I need to know. I can’t force you to do anything. I need to know that you still want to be with me, and then I can—I can be what you need.”

  You can’t.

  I have to let him go.

  “I’m what you want right now, but I’ll never be what you need, Will.” She took a deep breath and shook her head as tears stung her eyes, letting go of his hand. “And I wanted you to be the one so bad, but you’re not.” She blinked down at his crestfallen face through her tears.

  He broke eye contact with her and stood. He turned away, stalking up the path and wiping at his face. Buster stood, staring at him as he rounded the hedge, disappearing behind it.

  She burst int
o tears and bent down, hugging Buster tightly. “What have I done?” she cried, feeling hollow all at once.

  A rumble came from the front of the house—Will’s car starting.

  He’s leaving.

  She gathered her energy to stand and wipe the tears from her eyes as she started up the path and the engine grumbled further away.

  Buster followed behind her as she stepped back inside and ran upstairs, pulling out her suitcase she’d had since she was eleven, and packing her favourite clothes into it. Buster watched with a concerned look on his face.

  “I’m okay.”

  The words were as hollow as she felt, but it was what Grace would tell her.

  She grabbed a few of her things from the bedroom and bathroom before zipping up her suitcase and carrying it downstairs again.

  I should write him a note. Tell him where I’ve gone.

  But we’re not together anymore, and I don’t have to let anyone know where I’ve gone, or why.

  She pulled her jacket on and grabbed her keys.

  That should be a relief.

  Before opening the door, her stomach twisted, and she ran to the bathroom, falling to her knees in front of the toilet.

  After being sick twice, she washed out her mouth and splashed cold water over her face. Buster stared up at her as she opened the door.

  I can’t take you on my bike.

  She reached into her pocket and pulled out her last lifeline, hitting Grace’s number.

  She’s all I’ve got left, and you, Buster. I wouldn’t leave you.

  The phone rang and rang until her voicemail picked up. Madigan hung up and stared down at the contacts in her phone.

  Her mom and dad were out of the country.

  She kept Drew’s number—although his phone was long gone—she couldn’t bring herself to delete it.

  Cindy from work wasn’t close enough to her, and Mary, her old co-worker from Roy’s, would spread the gossip around town.

  She tried Grace again to no avail.

  One number left besides Will’s.

  She hit the button and tried to clear her throat as her phone rang.

  Chapter Twenty Four

  With each minute that passed on their drive to Whitestone Lodge, the sky turned a darker shade of blue, until they arrived beneath a dark autumn sky.

  “Whoever sent those pictures knows we’re coming to see John,” Grace said.

  Mac parked beside the officer on duty, a man she didn’t recognize.

  “He lied to us, and it’s enough for an arrest,” Mac said. “I told Banning to get me the warrant.”

  “Whoever left that box wants the attention on John. If we bring him in, he’ll lawyer up. We won’t get to talk to him.”

  Mac shook his head. “I should have trusted my instincts the last time we were here.”

  “Okay, he lied, but we don’t know the story until we talk to him.”

  “Sounds like you’re sticking up for him,” Mac said before stepping out of the car.

  He had a quick word with the officer before catching up with her on the way to John’s room.

  “Hey,” she said, touching his arm. “I’m just as upset as you about those pictures. More, maybe. Somebody’s threatening us—playing with us, even—but I won’t let any personal feelings cloud my judgment. It’s important we stay focused on the facts, like you said, Mac.”

  His chest heaved before he knocked on the door. John opened it, and they walked in, closing it behind them. Mac had his cell phone clutched in his fist.

  Waiting for the arrest warrant to come through.

  “I’m done playing games,” Mac said. “You were at Wild Card yesterday. Why?”

  John stared up at him and started to shake his head.

  “I’m done with the bullshit,” Mac hollered and took a step toward John.

  John tilted his head back, puffing out his chest.

  “Hey,” Grace said. “Just the truth, John. That’s all we’ll hear at this point, or you’re on your own.”

  John bowed his head and shook it.

  Any more lies, and it’s over for you.

  “Mickey Clarke,” John muttered. “The sonofabitch has taken everything that matters to me.”

  “You met with him.” Mac stared him down.

  “He told me to come. Told me if I didn’t, I’d go down for Lily’s murder.”

  Mickey knew he’d be there. Maybe he set him up. Took the picture.

  “Did he say he killed Lily?” Mac asked.

  John shook his head. “Didn’t deny it either.”

  “Then why?”

  “He wanted me to stay quiet,” John said, sitting down at the round table. “Not to say anything to you guys.”

  “What aren’t you supposed to tell us?” Grace asked and glanced up at Mac. “About the drugs?”

  John’s eyes opened wide again, like he couldn’t believe Evette had sold him out.

  “Yeah.” He rested his forearms on the table, and she couldn’t help but stare at his tattoos. “He owns the club, and he’s in charge of the dealings that go on in there.”

  “You both worked for him. You and Lily?” Mac asked. “Before or after Lily did?”

  “Before,” he said. “It’s how we met. I was in there. I saw her. That was it. We were together ever since.”

  “And you kept working for him,” Grace said, “even after your girlfriend took out a no contact order against him?”

  He shook his head. “I’d been trying to get out since then. I didn’t know what was going on between Mickey and Lily. She never told me because she—she didn’t know what I did, but she knew Mickey and I were connected, and she didn’t want to make trouble for me. She was afraid Mickey would make it look like they were having something on the side, you know? Like she initiated it.”

  “Did he?”

  He nodded, snickering. “I told her she was being silly. That I believed her, and I did, but now I know. Now he’s threatened me and Evette and threatened to turn it around on me like he did with her. I know why she didn’t tell me until he hurt her. She was scared.”

  “Evette?” Grace asked.

  “He said he’d kill her if I said anything to you guys.”

  “Do you deal straight with Mickey?” Mac asked.

  John shook his head. “I deal with his lackey, Blaze.”

  “Blaze?” Mac asked. “Real name?”

  “I don’t know,” John said.

  “So, tell us what really happened that day,” Grace said. “If you lie or leave anything out—we can’t help you.”

  He exhaled and leaned in over the table. “Lily and I had been fighting for a week before. I told her what I was into and that I’d tried to get out, but I couldn’t. I kept getting calls from Blaze. She thought I’d relapsed. That I was still using, but I wasn’t. I’ve been sober for a long time. She threatened to leave me this time. She said she wouldn’t marry a dealer. I promised her I was getting out no matter what. I brought her flowers that night to show her how much I loved her.”

  I knew it.

  Just like your dad.

  “I told her what I was going to do, and she seemed nervous, but happy. I saw hope in her eyes.” He swallowed hard.

  “So you went to Wild Card the night Lily died,” Mac said.

  John nodded. “I met with Blaze and told him I was done for good. He told me I’d regret it, but I told them to go fuck themselves.”

  “And you didn’t think they might come after Lily?” Grace asked.

  “I went to meet Luke, like I told you, and asked him to keep his ear to the ground for me. He hangs with Blaze sometimes, and he goes to Wild Card a lot.”

  “A customer of yours too, no doubt.” Mac leaned against the back of Grace’s chair. “What happened?”

  “I came back to Tall Pines and got home around eleven, just like I said. I found Lily, just lying there with the flowers.”

  “And you thought it was Mickey?” Mac asked.

  John shook his head. “I
wasn’t gone that long. Three hours—tops. I don’t understand how he could’ve been at the club, to my place and back, but he was the only one with anything against her, the no contact order, and me.”

  “Oh, and you?” Mac said, taking a step closer to him. “You told them to go fuck themselves, and you didn’t expect retaliation? Didn’t think they might take something close to you away?”

  The pictures of us. Of me and Madigan.

  It’s a threat.

  A threat if we don’t prosecute John.

  “No,” John said. “Not at the time, no. I was just happy. I was free, and I was going to tell her we were free…”

  “John,” Grace said, “why didn’t you tell us when I asked about what Evette said? What if we could have caught him by now?”

  “Then you would have already.” John rested his head in his hands. “And I did tell you. I told you it was him.”

  Mac pounded his fist on the table, and John jerked back. “You wanted to save your own ass,” Mac shouted.

  He thinks John should have protected Lily.

  He should have.

  John pressed his lips together and shook his head. “Wouldn’t have made a difference.”

  “How can you think that?” Mac asked. “Are you honestly that stupid?”

  He’s letting his own feelings interfere.

  “You’ll never get him,” John said, shaking his head. “Mickey Clarke is untouchable.”

  “You’re a coward,” Mac said before striding to the door.

  “I didn’t know this would happen,” he said. “I was screwed if I stayed working for him and screwed if I left. You have to believe me. You have to keep Evette safe. They’ll be after her if they think I talked. If he thinks you’re on to him in anyway. I lost Lily. I can’t lose my mom too.”

  Grace stared down at him.

  “Please,” John said.

  Grace nodded and followed Mac outside.

  “I’m staying here all night if I have to,” Mac muttered as he stalked to the patrol car. “I’m waiting for the warrant to come in and arresting him myself for obstruction of justice.”

  It’s not going to help.

  “Mac,” she said, but he didn’t turn around. “Mickey must have sent those pictures to incriminate him. He wants him locked away.”

  “I’ll have Officer Vila drop you off at home,” he said before studying his phone.