Nightfall

by Douglas, Penelope

  “How’d you figure this out?” he asked, pulling off his shirt to wipe down his face and the remnants of his fight with Taylor.

  “I didn’t,” she replied.

  “Rika?” he asked.

  “Misha and Damon figured it out, actually.”

  A laugh bubbled out of him, the deep, rich sound like déjà vu. He was a teenager at the Cove all over again.

  Rika. He meant Erika Fane. I’d heard she was engaged to Michael Crist, one of his best friends. Kai was married and a father, as was fucking Damon Torrance. Shocker.

  Misha Grayson was his younger cousin. He went to Thunder Bay Prep, too, but that was after my time.

  Alex knew all of them. She was a part of his life now. Friends with his friends.

  “Damon and Misha…” Will mused. “Like in the same room?”

  “There may have been blood,” she joked.

  A knot twisted and twisted in my stomach, listening to them.

  But then he grabbed her, squeezing her arms. “You want to tell me what you’re doing here? Huh? This was stupid.”

  She looked at him, worry etched on her brow, and then he released her and walked away, tossing his T-shirt onto a chair. The black ink all over his body melted into itself in the dim light.

  She approached him. “It’s been a year. You had to know we were going to figure out something was wrong,” she told him. “Your parents are telling everyone you’re doing humanitarian work in…like South Sudan or something.”

  He started laughing as he rubbed his forehead.

  She knit her brow. “Why are you laughing?”

  “Because I don’t know if I’m more hurt that it took you all so long to come after me, or aggravated that you had no faith that I’d be able to get myself out of this on my own?”

  “At least you’re not mad they sent a girl,” she shot back, shrugging her shoulders.

  He flashed her a look. “Oh, I know you get shit done.”

  He said it with almost a reverence.

  I didn’t know what I’d thought, but I didn’t think they were so chummy. I wasn’t sure why. It was like he was with one of the guys when he was with her. At ease.

  She shifted on her feet, the silence stretching between them. “So, um…if you want to bring anything, I’d pack it now. I have an exit plan, but I can’t say when it’ll go down. I need you to be ready.”

  He didn’t move, though. “How did you get here?” he asked. “Can you get back?”

  “What do you mean?”

  He wet his lips, finding the words. “I need you out of this house. Now. This minute.”

  Her brow creased with confusion. “What’s the matter with you?” she whispered, but I could hear the worry in her voice. “I’m taking you home.”

  “No, you’re leaving,” he said. “And you’re going to tell them I can solve my own problems. I don’t need help.”

  “And Emory?”

  He stopped, straightening his spine as he looked down at her. “What do you know? Did you have her brought here? Did Michael?”

  “She just asked me the same thing,” Alex blurted out. “Why would we do something so dumb? I have no idea who sent her here or why, but it was probably that brother of hers.”

  My brother didn’t have the funds for this place, and I wasn’t that important.

  Will regarded her. “You know her?” he asked.

  She nodded. “We met last spring.”

  Will’s eyebrow shot up.

  “Don’t give me that look,” she told him. “She was in Thunder Bay burying her grandmother. We ran into each other. I didn’t seek her out.”

  “How long have you been here?” he asked.

  Alex remained quiet, and a look crossed his face that said he knew the answer.

  “So you arrived on the shipment with her days ago, and you, what?” he continued. “Spotted her and decided to roll the dice and stay hidden to see this play out with her and me?”

  She folded her arms across her chest, a satisfied smirk on her face.

  “Get her out of here,” he bit out, “and both of you fuck off.”

  My breathing turned shallow. That was why she left me on my own these past days. She couldn’t get caught and risk stalling communication with their friends who were on their way, which I understood, but she wanted to see what would happen with Will and me. Maybe for her own interest or maybe for his.

  He didn’t want to leave. Why?

  Alex stepped toward him, staring hard into his eyes. “Damon’s second child is on the way,” she said. “Michael and Rika are getting married on Devil’s Night. They’re getting ready to tear down the Cove and move forward with the resort. We need to leave.”

  “Sounds like everything is going pretty well without me, actually.”

  She swatted him twice, not really hard, but I could hear her palm hitting his chest. He reared back.

  “I almost prefer you wasted,” she growled in a low voice, “because I have no idea who you are right now. When we met, what did I say to you?”

  He stood there—silent, contrite, and not spouting another word.

  “I can take anything as long as I have enough lipstick,” she recited. “I just shove it all underneath an extra coat, like you always did with your smiles. Rika, Michael…all of them, they’re my family.” She softened her voice, nearly choking on the tears. “But you… you’re my reflection. Now snap out of it. You’re coming with me or…”

  “Just trust me, okay?” he said suddenly, finally standing tall again and turning to face her. “I know what I’m doing. Just trust me this once.”

  He took her face in his hands, and I dropped my eyes, backing away, because I couldn’t watch it anymore.

  She was better for him. She was worlds better for him.

  And even though I knew it was reckless just like all the times I did things in high school, knowing Martin would find out and knowing the consequences, I ran. The toe of my sneaker banged into a pipe, a clang piercing the air, but I didn’t care if they heard. I ran and ran with every intention of getting out of here once and for all. It was time.

  I didn’t know where I was, where I was going, or how I would survive in the cold forest, but that was the thing about me—somehow I always made it through.

  Climbing the ladder back up to my room, I bolted down the tunnel and slipped through the portrait again. I grabbed the sweatshirt Aydin brought me, slipped it on, and stuck the knife in my back pocket, leaving my claw glove and darting out of the room. Heading down the stairs, I looked quickly around the foyer, the statues and candles flickering and looming as if there were a presence I couldn’t see, and I dove into the kitchen, snatching my bundle from the cupboard.

  Pulling up my hood, I ran for the back door.

  But just then, the panel on the wall popped open and slid over as Alex slipped through, blocking my way.

  Will walked in behind me, both of them breathing hard and fast like they’d been rushing to cut me off. They must’ve heard me stumble over the pipe in the tunnel.

  “Emmy, you have to be quiet,” Alex whispered, peering over my shoulder in case anyone else came. “I won’t be able to get you out if he locks me up.”

  He. Aydin.

  “You want to leave, then?” I challenged her. “Then, let’s leave now. You chose to be here. I didn’t. I want to go home.”

  I didn’t want to be here with them both. I didn’t want to be here at all. I didn’t give a shit if I died out there right now.

  You’re my reflection. The backs of my eyes burned.

  She shook her head at me. “I’m not leaving without him.”

  “Fine.”

  I rounded the island, shoved the only apothecary jar left at Will, and he jumped back as it crashed on the floor

  I bolted from the room, racing back through the house and toward the front door. If he wasn’t ready to leave, I wasn’t waiting. I made my own choices.

  I didn’t know why I was so pissed, because I knew what had happene
d between them, and he had no obligation to me, of all people, but seeing the bond up close…it was stronger than I thought.

  It never occurred to me it was strong at all. How could I have been so stupid.

  It hurt.

  Someone grabbed me, and I dropped the bag of food, staring at Alex.

  “You’ll die of exposure,” she said, barely above a murmur. “You won’t last the night.”

  “So what were you planning to do here?” I barked, jerking my chin at Will as he strolled in behind Alex. “Use me as the distraction as you made your escape with him?”

  “I was planning on escaping with him the day I got here and hide with him until help arrived,” she retorted, “but you showed up and fucked up my plans. Now I have two people to extract.”

  Aw, so sorry for the inconvenience.

  Either way, I was out of here. He didn’t want to leave, and she didn’t want to leave without him, so screw it.

  “No one is going to save you,” I told him, looking over her shoulder into his eyes. “This is no one’s fault but yours. It’s time to save yourself, Will.”

  But he just stood there like an oak, his green eyes hard on me as his brown hair, still wet from the greenhouse, hung in disarray.

  He didn’t fight for himself. He didn’t stand up for himself…

  He never did.

  “You were always pathetic,” I told him, sneering. “You know that? Always so naïve and clueless and pathetic.”

  A smack landed on my face, the sting spreading across my cheek and blood seeping into my mouth where it cut on my teeth.

  I took two breaths and slowly turned my face back, staring at Alex and her fiery eyes.

  “Emmy, I’m sorry,” she bit out. “I really am, but I’m not leaving without him, and you’re not leaving, either, because you’ll die out there. Think. You won’t know where to go, and you’ll cost me more time than you already have.”

  Like that’s even remotely my fault.

  I was leaving, dammit, whether she liked it or not. I wasn’t important to her.

  Or him.

  “What do you care anyway?” I growled, shoving her back so hard she stumbled. “You’ll have him all to yourself now. No competition.”

  And to my surprise, she just chuckled and rushed back up to me, planting her hand over my mouth to shut me up.

  I slapped her back, trying to get free but to no avail.

  “Is that what you are, Emory?” she taunted. “Competition?”

  I stand over my grandmother’s grave, the breeze kicking up as it blows through the trees.

  I wipe a tear off my cheek.

  I should be happy, right? She stuck around much longer than we thought she would. Like she knew she needed to be here for me.

  It’s been over six years—almost seven—since I’ve been home, and even now, I look for Martin, afraid to run into him and afraid of everything else that fills this town.

  Sooner or later, I’ll have to pay the piper. I just hope it isn’t today.

  I walk to my rental car, hugging myself against the chill still in the spring air, and slide into the driver’s seat, starting the engine. My flight back to California isn’t until tomorrow, so that means I have to spend the night in Meridian City, because I’m not taking a chance of being caught in Thunder Bay any longer than necessary.

  Still, though… I’ve learned how to straighten my hair, and I have my prescription sunglasses and matching, pressed clothes that fit me. No one will recognize me anymore.

  I drive out of the cemetery, not looking at Edward McClanahan’s grave, but knowing exactly when I pass it as I exit the cemetery and turn up the music, “White Flag” by Bishop Briggs playing loud. I drive down the highway, tempted to look at the mansions as I pass—the Crists and the Fanes, the Torrances and the Ashbys—but I don’t, just hoping some semblance of his life is back to what it used to be, even if I already knew he has undoubtedly changed.

  I just hope he’s gone. Traveling, living…loving, and being loved.

  Tears spring to my eyes again, but I blink them away, nausea rolling through me. I did what I had to do, right? I might’ve even saved him from a worse fate.

  But no matter how often I tell myself that, I still don’t feel it.

  I need to face him and come clean. This is eating a hole through me, and if he hasn’t come for me yet, then he doesn’t know, and he should.

  I can’t do this anymore.

  Entering the village, I risk a drive past my old house, seeing newspapers scattered about the lawn, as well as the overgrown hedges and the garbage can laying on its side.

  Does Martin still live there? There are no cars in the driveway.

  After Grand-Mère passed a week ago, I emailed him and hoped for no response. He told me to the let him know what my plans were.

  I didn’t.

  I’ll let him know once I’m gone. Only then can he come and pay his respects. He hasn’t shown up in years to see her, thank goodness, so he isn’t crying his eyes out about her death. I know that much.

  I keep driving, not knowing where I’m going, but when I see the Cove ahead, I veer into the parking lot. I heard they were getting ready to tear it down. Someone on the alumni committee sent me an invite to a Throwback Celebration a while back, but of course, I didn’t bother showing up.

  Me, here, and near Devil’s Night---yeah, not happening.

  I spot a couple of cars in the otherwise deserted lot and pull into a barely outlined space where the weeds push up through the concrete and the painted lines are chipped and faded.

  Shutting off the car, I step out and stick the keys into the pocket of my jeans, looking around as I stroll along and find my way inside.

  The sea lay beyond the Ferris wheel, and I can smell the salt in the air as I drift past the ticket booths and toward the pirate ship. The yellow and brown paint has chipped, and I can see the rusted bolts from here as it sits silent and still, an eerie death hanging over the park that chills my skin

  I almost hear the carnival music from that night in my head as I walk closer and closer, seeing where he and I sat.

  A fist squeezes my heart. I miss him. I didn’t realize back then how much this would hurt and how long it would stay with me.

  “Well, of course, you’re not on board,” some guy gripes, “because as soon as you find out what I want, you decide you want the exact opposite.”

  I jerk my head left and right, realizing I’m not alone.

  “You’re such a liar,” she says. “That’s not true at all. This location makes no sense, and I’ve had the same talk with Kai.”

  Kai?

  Finally, I spot a trio walking by the bumper boats, and I slip behind a game booth, out of sight as I peer around it.

  Michael Crist carries a rolled-up wad of papers, looking like they might be blueprints. He’s walking with two women, one with black hair and the other with brown.

  I squint through my sunglasses. The black-haired one looks a little familiar, but I don’t think I know her.

  “You can’t build a marina down there,” she spits back at Crist. “Guests won’t have access to a beach, either. It’s all rocks, remember? And when the nor’easters blow in, no one’s going to appreciate a front row seat to cyclone force winds, rain, and snow. The entire coastline is eroding, and it’s going to erode right up into your fucking golf course.”

  I bite back my smile. I’ve never heard anyone talk to him like that.

  I like her.

  “That’ll take a thousand years,” he whines and then looks to the other woman. “Alex, a little help here?”

  “Oh, no.” She taps away on her phone. “Don’t let me interrupt.”

  He shakes his head, leading the way through the park and back toward the lot, wearing a black suit and looking even more handsome than he did in high school, unfortunately.

  I haven’t followed his basketball career, but I know he still plays professionally.

  Great. With him around, that means th
e rest of the crew is close.

  Who are these women, though?

  “I need to talk to Kai,” he grumbles.

  “Yeah, run home to Daddy,” the black-haired one replies, “because I’m making too much sense for you.”

  He rolls his eyes and keeps going, the ladies following him.

  It looks like he’s planning to buy the property. And for a golf course? She also mentioned guests, which sounds like a hotel of some sort.

  A feeling of loss creeps in, and I’m not sure why. I have no right.

  It was just a great night, and as long as this place is here, it feels like maybe not everything has disappeared.

  I wait there for another minute, looking past the Ferris wheel, toward Cold Point. I’m half-tempted to take a walk out there, but I already nearly got caught. It’s time to go.

  I head out to the parking lot again, pulling out my phone to check the time, but as I approach my rental, I see someone sitting on the hood.

  It was the brown-haired woman from inside, her white tank top too short to cover her stomach. She stared at me with her sunglasses resting on the bridge of her nose and pouty, plum-colored lips.

  I halt, looking around. The other cars are gone, and I don’t see Michael or the other woman.

  “Hi.” I walk toward my car hesitantly. “I didn’t mean any harm. I was just looking around.”

  They appeared to own the property now, and I guess I was trespassing?

  But she just gives me a small smile. “You’re Emory Scott.”

  I pinch my brows together.

  “I recognize you from a photo I saw once,” she explains.

  “And you are?”

  “Alex Palmer.” She crosses her legs, leaning back on a hand. “A friend of Will Grayson’s.”

  I tense, dropping my eyes down her form and taking in the fact that no man has “friends” who look like that.

  “I saw that,” she teased.

  “What?”

  “That little…eyes-falling-down-my body-to inspect-the-competition-with-a-side-of-judgment look,” she said, rolling her neck with attitude.

  Competition? Is that what she is?

  I chuckle, digging in my pocket for my keys as I walk for the driver’s side door. “I wasn’t looking at you like that.”