by Adrian Stark
I’d only just found her, and I could feel her slipping through my fingertips. It scared me. Even if Jordan managed to find her, what she’s been through was sure to have a lasting effect on her. A familiar rage coiled through my gut. Michael Sullivan is lucky Jordan didn’t let me go with him. I’d kill him for what he’s done.
Josie’s cabin was starting to lose her smell, the lavender replaced by the scent of my cologne, but it still brought me comfort. Chrissie must have come in at some point because when I looked up, she was calling my name softly from the doorway.
“What?”
“I said, can’t sleep?” She pushed the door open a little more, her silky pajamas almost glowing in the moonlight. I sighed, pushing back the covers and sitting up.
“Too anxious.”
“Me too.” She sat beside me, and we both looked down at the floor.
“I keep thinking about what Charlie said,” I murmured after a moment. “About how she never told her anything?” I clenched my fist in my lap. “How long has this guy made her life hell? And, god, I almost sent her back. In London, I almost sent her home with no money and no way of protecting herself against him.” The whole ordeal was beginning to take its toll on me. I’d tried desperately to keep my mind off of it, to think of other things and now it was too late. “I should have told her about her father.”
“What would you have said? ‘By the way Josephine, my asshole of a father knowingly let your dad get cancer and did nothing about it. Don’t worry, though. I’m working to fix it!’ It’s not your fault it happened Andrew.”
“But I’ve known about this for a month, Chrissie. And what have I done about it? Nothing.”
“Well, then, why don’t you start now?”
“What?”
Chrissie stood up, a determined smile on her face.
“You need something to do. To get your mind off of things until we hear back from Mr. Dyre.” I followed her across the deck to my cabin and watched as she started rifling through the drawers. “You have everything on your laptop right?” I nodded. “Okay. I’ll help you. We can have a strong case going in no time.” I thanked the stars yet again for my sister.
I pulled out my desk chair and opened up the files from the board meeting. Chrissie disappeared for a few minutes and returned with her laptop and a sheaf of papers as thick as her arm. She spread the whole stack out on the bedspread, and we got to work.
A total of five other people had suffered under the same circumstances as Josephine’s father. However, two of them had recovered after extensive chemotherapy. The more we read, the tighter the pit of guilt in my stomach got. So many lives had been ruined by my father and, in not doing anything about it, by me.
There was no way I couldn’t tell Josie. This was too much, too big to hide from her. But even so, part of me wanted to bury the case file and pretend I knew nothing about it. The idea that I might lose her once she knows, it was too painful to contemplate. I loved her, more than I ever knew I could love anyone, and that’s why I had to tell her.
By the time we’d collected as much information on each case as we could, the sun was starting to rise. I left Chrissie to finish up and stepped into the bathroom to wash my face.
I hadn’t slept well for four days, and the strain showed. I looked haggard, dark circles under dead eyes and a five o’clock shadow that I hadn’t bothered. We should have heard from them by now. My hands were shaking as I splashed my face; a thousand different images raced through my head, each more gruesome than the last.
“Andrew!” I turned, water flying from my fingers. Chrissie had her phone clutched in her hand, face drawn and tense. “They’re here. He’s got her.”
Josie looked so small standing next to Jordan, arms wrapped around herself. She was wearing his coat. Jordan was shivering slightly in the breeze but made no move to take it back from her. Chrissie was the first down the gangplank, sweeping Josie into her arms.
“Thank god you’re okay!” She said into her hair. Josie was frozen in her arms. She looked like a deer in headlights, eyes wide and anxious. What had that fucker done to her?
I didn’t know what to do; everything felt so wrong. I walked hesitantly closer, stopping beside Jordan. Josie looked up, and our eyes met. I watched her expression shift, turning from anxious to furious.
“You bastard,” she seethed. Chrissie pulled back, surprised at her outburst.
“Josie? I-” Before I could say another word, Josie raised her hand and slapped me hard across the face.
Chapter Ten: Chapter 10 Title
The walk back to The Silver Cloud was silent, Jordan seemingly content to keep one arm wrapped protectively around my shoulders. My whole body ached, every movement sending shockwaves of pain ricocheting in every direction. I was exhausted but, as the docks got closer and closer, exhaustion gave way to anger.
“Jordan?” The man made a questioning noise, and I swallowed before continuing. “If you’re not a police officer, then how did you find me?”
“Andrew and Christine Wright hired me a few days ago. I work faster than the police.”
“And..how much do you know about them?”
“What do you mean?”
“Michael said they might be connected to something bad.”
“You mean what happened to your father?” I looked at him, surprised he knew about it. “I read about what happened while I was looking for you. You want to know if the Wrights were responsible for your dad’s death?” I nodded, and he looked up at the sky as if debating his next words. “ProviderLives is owned by the Wrights,” he said at last. “More than six people developed the disease around the same time, and many more still got sick. So, I would say they were almost certainly to blame, accidentally or not.” It felt like I’d been shot. All this time and Andrew hadn’t said a thing. He must have known—Christine too.
We didn’t speak again until we reached the gangplank of The Silver Cloud.
Christine came running towards me, pulling me into a hug before I could say a single word. I froze in her arms, fighting back a panic attack. I met Andrew’s eyes over her shoulder. He looked terrible, eyes sunken and sad. Good. Resentment bubbled through me like fire.
“Bastard.” Christine pulled back, and I stalked towards Andrew—my father’s face burned into my mind, weak and dying. He’d done this. He’d killed my father. I’d slept with him. I’d let him kiss me, fuck me. I’d loved him.
“Josie? I-” just hearing his voice almost broke me. He sounded so relieved, and I wanted to throw myself into his arms, burrow into his neck. I slapped him, feeling the stinging in my palm as it made contact with his cheek.
“How could you?” The words were wet, choked through tears. I couldn’t remember being this angry in my entire life. “How could you not tell me?” He looked puzzled for a split second before understanding crossed his face, and he looked guiltily at the floor.
“Josie, I was going to tell you I just-I didn’t know how and now I-”
“Josie!” I looked over Andrew’s shoulder and felt a fresh wave of tears roll down my cheeks as Charlie ran towards me.
“Charlie?” She crashed into me, sending spikes of pain down my fingertips, but I didn’t give a damn, squeezing her back just as tightly, eyes closed.
“I’m so glad you’re okay.” She was crying. I could feel her tears on the side of my face, hear the shaking in her voice as she hugged me like I was about to disappear. I opened my eyes and found Andrew looking back at me, a broken expression on his face. I flinched, turning my head to nuzzle into Charlie’s neck.
“Please, get me out of here.” I tried to convey how I was feeling to her like the world was collapsing around me. She must have seen something in my expression because she took my hand without a word and ushered me past Andrew and up the stairs, not stopping until we reached my cabin.
Charlie deposited me onto the bed, peeling off my clothes and tucking me under the covers before lying down next to me, her arm resting over my waist on top
of the covers.
“Please tell me what's happening,” she pleaded.
I told her everything, eyes never leaving the ceiling above me as I spoke. At some point, I could hear her crying, hand reaching to grab mine and squeeze it. Sleep was tugging at me, every bone in my body aching to rest, but I struggled on, telling her about what Michael had said and what Jordan had confirmed. When I finished, I was crying again, sobs wracking my body uncontrollably.
“I can’t stay here, Charlie.” I wept. “I don’t know what to think but I can’t bear to be around him. I need to go home.”
Charlie stroked my hair, tucking the wayward strands behind my ears.
“I promise you,” she said seriously, “we’ll leave first thing tomorrow.”
Chapter Eleven: Chapter 11 Title
Chapter Twelve: Chapter 12 Title
Chapter Thirteen: Chapter 13 Title
Chapter Fourteen: Chapter 14 Title
Epilogue
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