by JA Huss
I press my lips together and smile. Not looking at him. Just facing forward. Eyes on the waves rolling in over the sand between two cabañas. “I get it.”
“I have a family,” he continues. “We’re not close and we’re not typical, but they’re still there and I still want them. And now my brother Jesse has a girl he loves, and my brother Joey has… well, a whole fucking pack of people he loves, and everything I’ve ever done was for them. That’s the only reason I do any of this.”
Well… that was an unexpected confession. When I don’t say anything back he stops and takes both my hands in his. Like he needs me to respond to that.
“You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” I say.
“I know I don’t have to, but I want to.”
“Why? I mean… we’re probably never going to see each other again after tomorrow.”
He stares at me for a moment. “Where will you go?”
I pull my hands out of his and continue walking towards our cabaña. I can tell by the silence behind me that he’s not following, but I keep walking anyway.
A few seconds later he catches up. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing. I just… don’t know where I’ll be after I show you the island. But if we’re gonna talk about the future right now, then we should discuss that. The plan, you know. Like… do you have one?”
We’ve now reached the door so I pass my wristband over the lock and the little mechanism lights up green. Johnny grabs the handle and pushes the door open before I can, so I just say, “Thanks,” and walk through.
He follows me in and walks to the small kitchenette. Opens the fridge, takes out two bottles of water, and then walks over to hand me one.
Then he stares at me for too many seconds. Like he’s thinking about something. Finally he pops the caps on his water, takes a sip, and recaps it. “I do have a plan. But you know this place better than I do. What do you think we should do?”
Obviously I need to get him to the drop-off island at noon tomorrow. But I can’t just come and say it like we’ve got an appointment.
“Well, shift change is at midnight—”
“Nah,” he says. “I don’t want to wait until midnight.”
“Why not? It’s dark, at least.” And I don’t know why I’m saying this because I need him to be there at noon, not midnight. But that was the earlier plan, right? So what’s changed? Why did he so quickly dismiss it?
“Yeah, dark is overrated as far as secret plans go. Sometimes you need to be seen.”
“Do you want to be seen?”
Again, he stares at me for a little too long. Then he grins unexpectedly and says, “Doesn’t everyone?” Like he’s flirting. Or in the middle of some kind of fantastic game.
“I’m… just going to take a wild guess here and say… nooo. Most criminal masterminds don’t want to be seen. That’s why we’ve all been conscripted into this secret organization.”
He chuckles. And he’s damn handsome when he does that.
Focus Megan. You’re in the middle of something here.
“Well, I’m just too anxious to get this show on the road to wait until midnight.”
“There’s another shift change at noon,” I offer. “We could do it then.”
“Why do we need to wait until shift change?”
“I told you earlier. There will be activity and people. We could get there early, round up all the people coming in, then we’ll have everyone all in one place at the same time. Better to question everyone than just half of them, right? That’s not a bad idea.”
God. Why does he keep staring at me like that?
He sighs. Eyes still locked on mine. “Yeah. I mean, it’s as good a plan as any. So, sure. We’ll go in like that.”
I hesitate. Because something about this conversation feels off. Aside from the fact that I’m setting him up, there’s more to it than that.
“What?” he asks.
“Nothing, it’s just… I dunno. Maybe this is all a bad idea?”
“Why? It’s a pretty simple plan. Far less dangerous than storming the place with guns, don’t you think?”
“Was that your original plan?”
He smiles. And once again, it’s disarming. “That’s why we’re in Freeport, Megan.”
“Right, but…”
“I think we should do it this way. I think this is the safest way for everyone involved.”
“Um… OK then. If you think it’s best.”
“I do.”
“Well, you’re the criminal mastermind, right?” And then, I don’t know why, but I reach over on the coffee table and pick up one of the packages he sent to the room earlier.
“Oh, yeah,” he says. “You should open that. All of them, actually.”
The little box in my hand is glossy and white. Tied up prettily with a gold satin bow. I look up at Johnny and say, “Why did you even buy all this stuff?”
He takes a moment to uncap his water, take another sip, and cap it back up. “I dunno, really. I was making up this little fake scenario for why we were here.”
“Oh?” I ask. Raising one eyebrow.
“It’s not important,” he says, waving a hand in the air. Then he walks towards me, pushes some of the packages aside, and takes a seat on the coffee table in front of me. His knees scissored on either side of mine. “Go on. I’m dying to know what’s in that box.”
I stare down at them for a moment. Wondering if he’s coming on to me. Then look up at him and say, “You don’t know what’s in these packages?”
“I just waved my hand at the glass case and told the cashier to wrap it all up and send it to the room. I vaguely recall a silver brush set and some earrings.”
I smile. Then chuckle. Then… laugh. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that.”
“So they tell me,” he says, picking up another package and turning it around in his fingers.
“You really want me to open all these boxes?”
“Someone’s got to. I did clean out the whole case.” Then he tugs on the ribbon wrapped around the box he’s holding. “Here. I’ll help you.” Then he smiles that disarming smile again. Only this time he’s not looking at me, he’s looking down at the box in his hands. “It’ll be like Christmas.”
“We didn’t really do Christmas when I was growing up. Sometimes there were parties with a Christmas theme, but it’s not like I got presents on the day, or anything.”
“Yeah,” he says, letting the ribbon fall. It doesn’t get far. Kinda drapes dramatically across his thighs. “We didn’t either. Well,” He looks up at me and meets my eyes. “We did when I was a kid. But then,” He shrugs. “I dunno. One year there was just no tree and that was the end of that.”
“Hmm,” I say. Trying to picture him as a boy realizing that there would be no presents this year. “That must’ve been disappointing.”
“I guess,” he says, lifting the lid off the box in his hand. He holds up an earring. Long, and dangly. Alternating green and clear stones arranged like teardrops falling down a cheek. Probably not real emeralds or diamonds, but they’re still very pretty. “Do you even have pierced ears?”
I tuck my hair behind my ear so he can see my lobes.
“Wanna put them on?”
“Now?”
“If not now, when?”
I shrug. “OK.” I take one of the earrings he’s offering, slip it through my lobe, then fasten the small latch on the back side. He hands me the other one and I put it on.
“How do I look?” I ask.
He nods his head and stares at me. And for a moment I’m absolutely certain he’s reading my mind. He knows everything. Why I’m here. What’s going to happen tomorrow. All of it.
“Open yours now,” he says. Gaze still locked on mine.
I pull myself back together, look down at the box in my lap, and pull the gold ribbon off. He takes the length of satin from my lap and drapes over his thigh like his ribbon was lonely and needed a friend.
I already know what’s in this box just by the size and shape of it. So I’m expecting the white velvet ring box inside. But the actual ring tucked between two velvet cushions is actually stunning. “Jesus Christ, Johnny,” I say, lifting the ring out and holding it up to the light. “This is beautiful.”
“It’s nice, yeah,” he says, eyeing the sparkling diamond surrounded by emeralds.
And I could be wrong here, but I’m pretty sure these stones are real. They’re not overly big like the ones set in the earrings. Not tiny, either. Maybe half a carat center stone and then another half a carat total in accent emeralds.
But when I look up at Johnny his brow is furrowed. “But it’s probably not gonna fit. Ring size.” He huffs. “Wasn’t really thinking that one through.”
I slip the ring on, flick my fingers at him, and laugh. “My lucky day, I guess.”
He turns his body a little, searching through the packages, then comes up with a flat one. Not a glossy white box this time. Just velvet. “Here. Maybe this completes the set?”
“It’s your turn,” I say, “You have to open the next one. That’s how they do Christmas in the movies, anyway.”
“Yeah,” he says. Chuckling a little. “That’s how we did it when I was a kid too.” He pulls the gold ribbon off—once again draping it across his thigh—then opens the hinged lid of the velvet case and displays the necklace for me with a flourish of his hand. “Ah, fuck,” he says. “It’s not green.”
No. It’s not green. It’s all diamonds. And it’s spectacular. Even though those stones can’t be real. There’s too many of them. It’s definitely a cocktail necklace meant to impress, but not require security guards to wear in public.
“Here,” he says, unfastening the clasp and leaning forward. “Allow me.”
I suck in a deep breath of air as his fingers reach under my hair and flit across my neck. And when I lift my eyes up he’s right there. His blue eyes just an inch or two from mine.
I think I stop breathing.
But then he’s got the necklace on and he leans back again. Smiling at me. “God, that’s nice, Megan. You’re maybe a little overdressed for swimming, but…” He shakes his head. “I don’t really mind it if you don’t.”
My hand lifts up to my throat to feel the weight of the stones and silver on my neck and I let out a long breath. “I’m not wearing all this swimming,” I laugh.
“Oh, fuck yeah you are. I wanna see it sparkle in the moonlight.” Then he picks up one of the gold, satin ribbons on his thigh and holds it up. “May I?” he asks.
I’m confused. “What do you mean?”
He leans forward, reaches around me, and gathers up half of my long, wild blonde hair. Then ties the ribbon around it, making a pig tail. He does it again on the other side and when he leans back again, he smiles. “There. Now I can see the necklace and the earrings.”
My heart skips a beat and I bite my lip.
“Oh,” he says, holding up the last gold ribbon. “We can’t forget this one.” He takes the ribbon and ties a figure eight knot in the center, then proceeds to tie a sliding knot to form a sort of bracelet.
I grin at him. But he’s concentrating hard on his little impromptu craft project. His knee begins to bounce as he gently tugs and pulls on the ribbon, smoothing it out and making sure the knots he’s made aren’t tight, but rather two very sophisticated and artful loops.
When he’s done he smiles at me. Picks my hand up, slips the soft ribbon over it, and tightens the sliding knot just enough so that my wrist is wrapped up like a fancy present.
“There,” he says, letting out a breath. “It’s nothing special, but…”
I look down at the bracelet. Not sure how this simple piece of ribbon can make me feel so cared for when I have several thousand dollars of cocktail jewelry on me. But it does.
I look back up at him. “It’s… um… thank you. I can honestly say I wasn’t expecting this night to go this direction. Where did you learn to do this?” I hold up my wrist, still looking at it with a sense of wonder.
“Oh, I well. Odd thing here. My mom used to do this to us when we were small.” He grins. Like he’s running that memory through his head. “I don’t remember much about her, but I remember that. So when I got older, after she was gone, I taught myself how to do it because… well. Because I missed her, I think. And it’s kinda pretty.”
“Hmm.” I’m still fascinated by the bracelet. “It’s super pretty, actually. Thank you. For everything. You’ve really surprised me tonight, you know that?”
“I’m having a good time,” he says. “I know I don’t come off that way. It’s been a weird forty-eight hours. Not what I had in mind when I came down here looking for Charlotte, that’s for sure. But I feel like this night is all I’ve got left. Because once tomorrow comes I don’t know what’s going to happen.” He stares at me for a minute. His blue eyes locked with mine. “Does that make sense?”
I nod. Unable to speak. Because my mind is filled with random flashes of Johnny rescuing me, and washing me, and making sure I’m taken care of. Buying me shoes, and dinner, and trying his best to explain himself. And I don’t think I will ever stop replaying that whole bracelet-making, ribbon-tying moment over and over again in my head for as long as I live.
It might be the most real thing I’ve ever experienced.
“So I just want to have one of those nights, ya know? Because I don’t take chances like this often. I don’t get out much. My life is work, and worry, and stress. And if things don’t go my way tomorrow, I might never get another night like this again. So can you just wear the jewelry and come swim with me? Because I really do just want to look at it sparkle in the moonlight.”
What I really want to do is sit by myself for a couple of lifetimes so I can figure what just happened here. Because something just happened. And I’m afraid if I don’t play it back and make sense of it, I’ll miss it. And the meaning will be lost forever.
“Wait,” he says. “That’s a lie.” And then he takes my hand. “I want to see it on you. The jewelry and the moonlight. On you.” He pauses. “Um… I’m getting weird, right? Sorry.”
There’s a few seconds when I just stare at him. Speechless and still. Then I slowly, carefully, pull my hand out of his and say, “Yeah. Sure. Let’s swim.”
He smiles at me. A very charming, disarming smile. “Good. Let’s change and I’ll meet you outside on the beach.”
And when he gets up I realize his knees had been pressing against mine this whole time. Because I feel the absence of his heat once he walks off.
“Right,” I whisper, watching him disappear into the hall bedroom.
I get up, walk into the master, and close the door, leaning my back against it as I let out a long breath.
None of this is turning out the way I planned.
He’s not what I thought he’d be.
He’s not insane, he’s just tired. Or sad. Or… something else. Something I wasn’t expecting, that’s for sure.
Maybe he doesn’t want to hurt people? Maybe he just wants to save his brothers?
Outside the air is warm and humid. I’m used to this climate. I’ve lived in the tropics my entire life, but it’s August and that means the days are blazing and the nights make you feel like you’re wearing a cloak made of rain clouds.
I chose the two-piece bathing suit. It’s red, has a lot of strings, and the clasp between my breasts is adorned with a large, glittering rhinestone.
Johnny’s waiting for me in the sand. Sitting between two palm trees with his knees pulled up to his chest, arms wrapped around them. Casual and beautiful as he gazes out to sea. The sliver of crescent moon makes a long, wavy carpet of light across the water that beckons me towards him.
He turns and looks over his shoulder as I approach, his eyes lingering on my face for a moment, then they slide down my body like hands and that gaze becomes more of a touch as he lingers on my legs.
“It’s warm tonight,” I say.
He n
ods, his eyes seeking out mine. Then they drop to the necklace. I finger it without thinking, then feel awkward and weird about everything. The bathing suit. The jewelry. The ribbon. The beach. Even the beautiful crescent moon makes me uncomfortable right now.
Because this feels like a… gesture.
“The water will be perfect,” Johnny says, getting to his feet. He brushes sand off his legs and then extends his hand.
I just stare at that hand for a moment.
“Come on,” he says. “You still want to swim, right?”
“Yeah,” I say, shaking myself out of the sudden confusion swirling through my body. I take his hand—though this feels even weirder now than it did earlier in the day—and let him tug me towards the water.
We splash through the surf and he’s right. The temperature is perfect. Not warm, not cold, but refreshingly cool.
Once we’re at waist height Johnny lets go of my hand and dives into a wave and for a few moments I’m alone. So funny how the ocean can make you feel that way when underneath the water there’s a whole other world living beyond your senses.
A hand grabs my leg and I scream in surprise. Johnny pops up and the salty sea falls down his chest in rivers as he stands up and swipes hair from his eyes. “You’re not wet enough, Megan.” Then he splashes me with the flat palm of his hand. Water hits my breasts and they respond immediately.
“Hey!” I squeal.
“Come on. Let’s swim out.” And then he dives under and is gone again. I wade forward slowly, searching the ocean surface for his body. Even though the moon is just a sliver, the sky is clear and the light is bright. But the world around us still seems very dark and very black.
Soft splashing makes me turn my head to the left, but before I can tell if that was Johnny or not, it’s silent again.
“God dammit,” I mutter. He’s going to scare me, I just know it.
But there’s no more splashing or appearances.
I ease forward over the waves, swimming farther out. Then I stop and tread water, turning in place. Searching for him. “Johnny?” I call. “God dammit. You better not drown on me.”
