Rogue Wave: Cake Series Book Five

by J. Bengtsson

  The two of us sat quietly looking out over the ocean. It was only later that I felt his gaze upon me. Slowly I turned my head, and our eyes connected. Reflecting off the water’s glow, his were a fusion of blues and greens and grays – like the swirling colors of my stone. Behind all that pain was the exuberant boy I’d met in class, the one who’d swept me off my shaky feet and deposited me back on solid ground a changed person.

  He reached up, gently touching my cheek. “Damn, you’re a sight for sore eyes.”

  I froze, craving his touch but understanding I could never have it again. Reaching up, I removed his hand. I wasn’t his any longer. He’d seen to that weeks ago when he’d gone off to fight the battle alone.

  “It didn’t have to be that way,” I replied. “You knew where to find me. I would have stood by your side.”

  His gaze dropped, and a frown tightened his features. “If you’re disappointed in me, Sam, get in line.”

  It went beyond disappointment. I loved him, and he’d basically thrown me away for a pharmaceutical lover. I could spend this time tearing him apart for what he’d done, but that would leave Keith worse off than when I came. I’d had plenty of time to come to terms with the disappointment and could set it aside to keep this boy afloat. “I was worried about you. Where have you been? What about school?”

  “What about it?” he grumbled.

  “Did you give up on graduating? Because I don’t think it’s too late. I’m sure, given the situation with your brother, the school would work with you.”

  “It’s more than a situation.” Keith raised a brow. “Or maybe you haven’t been following the news.”

  “Oh, I’ve been following it. It’s a little hard not to. But I’m not talking about Jake right now. I’m worried about you.”

  “Why?”

  “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “Because you hate me, Sam. I can see it in your eyes.”

  “I don’t hate you. Maybe I don’t particularly like you right now, but I could never hate you.” And it was true. No matter where life took us, I’d always have a special place in my heart for my first love.

  We went back to staring at the shoreline. Cupping sand in my palm, I let it funnel out over my bare feet.

  “For what it’s worth,” he said, “I’m sorry.”

  “I know.”

  “Do you?” Keith let a breath out, deflating like a balloon. “I wish… I wish I could take it all back. I wish I was stronger.”

  I covered his hand with my own, knowing in my heart he hadn’t intended to hurt me. He was just lost and alone and in need of healing. “Look, I’ve been where you are. I get it. But now it’s time to pull yourself together and fight against the forces trying to drag you down. This is your life, Keith – the only one you’re ever going to live. Are you who you want to be?”

  Keith considered my words for the longest time before shaking his weary head. “Not even close.”

  “Then make the change. Reach in there and find your strength. And then once you’ve got it, pass a little on to Jake. He needs his big brother.”

  Keith dropped his head and slumped his shoulders. “He doesn’t need me. He needs a miracle.”

  “He already got his miracle.”

  “Did he? I’m not so sure of that.”

  “He’s alive.”

  “Barely. And what’s left of him…” Keith shook his head.

  “He’s alive,” I stopped him. “And that’s more than I can say for Sullivan. As long as Jake’s still breathing, as long as you’re still breathing, you have the power inside you to turn this around. But Keith, listen to me – you’ve got to stop messing with Fate. It’s not going to give you unlimited chances.”

  “I know,” he replied, raking his fingers through his patchy stubble.. “Maybe I just needed to hear it from you. You’re good for me, Sam. So good.”

  I ignored his words because they did us no good now. Redirecting the conversation, I asked, “What are you doing out here, Keith? What were you collecting?”

  Reaching inside his pocket, Keith pulled out some seashells, dumping the fragmented pieces into the sand between us. “They’re for Jake. I’m going to see him for the first time this afternoon. He loves the ocean, and I wanted to bring him something....”

  Keith stopped abruptly, tears brimming. “But I can’t find any whole ones, Sam. Everything’s broken.”

  “Hey,” I said, gently touching his face. It was meant to be comforting, but the minute our eyes met, Keith gripped the back of my neck and drew me in, his lips crashing into mine. There was nothing sweet or loving in the way he kissed me. It was laced with anger and lust and need. Yet, despite the fact I wanted to hate him for leaving me, I responded in kind, pushing my lips forcefully against his. With his tongue sparring against mine, my body, which had lain dormant for weeks, suddenly roared back to life. The thrill of being wanted again clouded my judgment, and as Keith brushed a hand over my breast, I quaked with desire.

  The hypnotic connection was broken as he dipped me back into the sand. It was then I came to my senses. This could not happen. We could never be. Reluctantly, I eased my lips off his and sat up, pushing him away with my hands.

  “No. I can’t.”

  “Why?”

  “There are just things…” I stopped in mid sentence. There was no point in telling him about my move, about what my mother had done. He needed to focus on what he could change – himself. I was already gone. “I just… I can’t. I’m sorry.”

  “I get it,” he said, his fingers walking softly across my cheeks. “I know I ruined us.”

  During these past difficult weeks, I’d imagined how easy it had been for Keith to make the decision to leave me, but now, looking into his defeated eyes, I finally understood. Keith hadn’t ruined us; life had.

  “I don’t blame you. Maybe we just weren’t meant to be together,” I replied. “Everyone has a first love, Keith. That’s why they call it ‘first.’ We’ll both move on – and be better for it.”

  He slanted his gaze. “You really believe that?”

  I bit down on my lip to prevent the tremble. Of course I didn’t believe that, but lying to myself – and him – was the only way I could set Keith on a path forward as I started over in a new city, safe and alone.

  Forcing a smile on my face, I climbed to my feet and offered him my hand. “I do. Now, let’s go.”

  “Where?”

  “To get Jake his ocean.”

  19

  Keith: Making Contact

  Sam had emptied her paper lunch bag, and we’d stuffed it full of shells and rocks. The plastic bags we’d used for water and sand. If Jake couldn’t come to the beach, I could bring it to him. Not that I hung out there much myself anymore. In fact, it was the first time I’d set foot back on the coast since his kidnapping. Something had changed in me, and I no longer felt the pull toward the ocean. Maybe when Jake went back, I would too. Maybe.

  I thought back to my time with Sam. She’d been different – remote – and I got that she was angry. Why wouldn’t she be? I’d set her aside – wiped her from my thoughts like she hadn’t existed. If I’d only answered her calls. Seeing her again brought everything back, all the feelings I hadn’t allowed myself the luxury to feel. I loved her. Not past tense, like she’d suggested on the beach. I loved her present tense. But, due to current circumstances, it would be a long time before I’d be in a position to win her back. If I was lucky, she might wait.

  Mitch, Emma, and I waited by the door for Kyle to finish his visit with Jake. By unanimous vote, he was the first in because, well, he’d suffered the most in Jake’s absence. And as I waited my turn, I clutched Sam’s beach bag like a lifeline.

  Mitch leaned against a wall, looking tanned, rested, and healthy, unlike the rest of us ghostly beings who appeared to have just hobbled out of a nuclear war. At twenty-one years old, my half-brother was a collegiate athlete with the body to prove it. He was everybody’s favorite guy. Handsome. Athletic. And nice
– like Mormon nice. He’d always been an ideal I couldn’t live up to, so instead of making him the hero of my story, I’d cast him as the villain, hating him accordingly.

  When Jake went missing, Mitch had been in South America, building infrastructure for debilitated villages on an exchange program through his college. Word of the tragedy had been slow to reach him, and when he’d finally worked his way out of the developing country and found his way home, he was a month late.

  No matter, though, because as soon as he arrived home, Mitch took over. Suddenly the piles of trash were gone, the holes in the walls patched up, and the dishes washed. Not only that, but superman gave poor Emma a break with the kids and managed to get Dad cleaned up and on the road to recovery. And then, boom, four days later Jake made the miraculous escape heard round the world, and Mitch came out looking like the good luck charm we’d needed all along. There had been no suffering for him, no late nights with the FBI ripping his home apart looking for clues, and no Steves telling him to stop hoping because his brother was dead. No, Mitch had shown up late for the game yet had still gone on to hit a grand slam.

  The door to Jake’s hospital room swung open and Kyle stumbled out, darting his head around as if he were a cornered raccoon looking for escape. I gripped his arm and he jerked back, almost as if I’d jarred him from some nightmare in his head.

  “What happened?” I asked.

  His voice broke as he forced out the words. “He’s not there.”

  Confused, I asked. “What do you mean? That’s not his room?”

  Mitch grunted as if dealing with my stupidity was such an inconvenience. Pushing me aside, he grabbed Kyle and drew him into an embrace. “That’s not what he means, Keith. Use your brain.”

  Then horror stamped out my confusion, and the full weight of Kyle’s words hit me. Jake. Wasn’t. There. In all my fantasy scenarios of him surviving the kidnapping, never had I thought up this one: that he would return to us… but not really.

  Despite Mitch’s diss, my slipup was somewhat justified. My siblings and I had not been privy to the specifics of Jake’s condition. The details were kept far away from our bleeding ears. But it didn’t take a genius to put the big pieces of the puzzle together once the bodies of Ray Davis’s former victims began coming out of the cold, hard ground. Jake had not only escaped a prolific serial killer, but he’d taken that fucker down. A full-on knife battle at his final stand, and somehow my little brother had emerged the victor – sort of. I found it hard to declare him the ‘winner’ when the thirteen-year-old boy now lying broken and shattered just beyond that door had lost absolutely everything.

  The door opened wider as my parents followed Kyle out of the room, looking grim as their eyes scanned the lot of us. Shit, they were going to scrap the whole thing. Mitch, Kyle, Emma, and I had waited eight days to see Jake, and I wasn’t going down without a fight. I needed to see him, if only to ease my fear of what was behind that door. I knew Jake wouldn’t be the same smiling, sarcastic kid he’d been before, but I needed to know he could get there again – eventually.

  Mom gently slid her hand through what remained of Kyle’s freshly shorn head of hair. “You kids can still visit, but just understand, Jake’s on a lot of pain medication. He might be confused and have trouble remembering who you are.”

  Was that what had happened? Had he failed to remember Kyle – his partner in crime? Those two were like the same side of a coin. This was bad. It wasn’t what was scarred onto Jake’s body that worried me most, it was the matter of what couldn’t be seen – the psychological violence that would stay with him a lifetime.

  Slipping her arm around Kyle, Mom whispered something in his ear before leading him away.

  Once they were out of earshot, Emma asked, “What happened in there?”

  Dad’s gaze lifted, and I took in the dark bags sagging under his eyes. He looked so tired; Mom too. Both had aged years in the last month and a half, and by the looks of it, they’d be continuing down this haggard path for a long time to come. I should have been there to carry some of the burden.

  “Jake just sort of looked right through Kyle like he didn’t even see him. It was heartbreaking. Your mother says to give him time, but…”

  While Mitch offered Dad the emotional support he needed, Emma glanced at me, the fear in her eyes matching my own. If Jake couldn’t remember Kyle, what hope did the rest of us have? My sister absently stroked the neck of the guitar she’d insisted on bringing for Jake. In her mind’s eye, music would be his healing grace, but after what we’d just learned, maybe she’d wasted her time lugging it all the way here.

  “No. He’s going to be okay,” Dad reasoned, pulling himself back together. “Once they wean him off the pain meds, he’ll be okay.”

  Over the past week, I’d been weaning myself off pain meds too, but I’d never forgotten who Kyle was.

  “He just needs time to adjust and heal. Keep your visit short and your expectations low. That way you won’t be disappointed. Mitch, why don’t you go next?”

  Mitch? What the fuck? Why was he always first in line? It didn’t matter that the amount of time he’d spent in our family consisted of summers and holidays, and that was only until he turned sixteen and decided we were no longer worth the visit. The last summer he’d spent with us was when Jake was only eight. And yet, still, Mitch got the coveted pimp spot.

  Typically I just stewed in silence, but not today… not when I was feeling the sting of injustice. “Why does he get to go first? If Jake didn’t know who Kyle was, what makes you think he’d recognize Mitch? He’s not even Jake’s real brother.”

  My words hit their mark. Mitch winced. Dad winced. Even Emma cringed before hastily looking away. My eyes bounced off every stunned face, and maybe I would have even celebrated the verbal victory had Mitch not swiftly pushed me up against the wall.

  “Don’t you ever talk to me like that again,” he seethed, his grip tightening as he leaned in so close I could feel his breath on my heated skin. “He’s my brother too.”

  In his dreams. Mitch was just the shiny trophy on the shelf – the one you went to for advice on how to be a winner. But I was the real deal – Jake’s oldest brother, the one who’d been there for him when he needed defending against bullies or for advice on his first kiss. I was his hero – not Mitch. Not ever.

  “Do you have any idea how that makes me feel when you downgrade me like that, Keith? Huh? Was it my fault Dad didn’t marry my mom and give me full-blooded siblings? No! You’re no more entitled to your brothers and sisters than I am, so shut your fucking mouth.”

  Mitch rarely lost his cool, but when he did, it was always spectacular – and always my fault. His piece spoken, he released me from the wall. Dad shook his weary head, staring at me with the disappointed look I knew so well. Fuck him. Fuck them all! I didn’t need this shit.

  “You know what? Go ahead, Mitch. I’ll take a backseat… like always.”

  Pushing past my father, I made sure to drop my shoulder and barrel into my fake brother for good measure. As I stalked off, I turned and made eye contact with Emma. The pleading in her eyes did not escape me… nor did it alter my path.

  The further away I got from the hospital, the worse I felt. I made it several blocks on foot before I realized what I was doing – I wasn’t sticking it to Mitch, I was turning my back on Jake. This was not the person I wanted to be. And certainly not the person I needed to be to win Sam back.

  When it came right down to it, Mitch was just an excuse – an easy target. Was it his fault that he shit gold bars? Some people were just destined to be on the starting lineup. It was written in their DNA. And by stomping off the way I did, all I’d done was prove I was a second-string player.

  What was I doing walking away when Jake needed me? What kind of a douche did that? Me, apparently. Well, shit! If I was going to change myself for the better, I had to go back and apologize to Mitch. It was the only way out of the hole I’d dug for myself.

  Sighing, I pivo
ted on the ball of one foot and trudged back to the hospital.

  Mom was sitting in the small waiting area outside Jake’s door.

  “I knew you’d be back,” she said.

  “Yeah? That’s one of us. Did you hear?”

  “Oh, I heard.”

  “Where is he? I need to apologize.”

  “He left with Kyle, Emma, and Dad.” Her weary eyes rolled over me. “Lucky you.”

  I shifted from foot to foot, shame heating my cheeks. “I shouldn’t have said those things to him.”

  “No, you shouldn’t have. Mitch is not your enemy, Keith. He never has been.”

  “I know. He didn’t do anything wrong. I can barely control my pettiness around him.”

  “Trust me, you inherited that particular trait from me.” She smiled, patting the seat beside her. I sank into it and laid my head to her shoulder. “I don’t know how much I told you about the issues Aunt Mel and I had growing up. She was the perfect older sister. Everyone loved her. Sometimes I felt like an afterthought. I spent my life trying to live up to her, and it just damaged our relationship. It wasn’t until I decided to be okay with who I was that we were able to put everything in the past. Because your situation was similar to mine, I tried extra hard to make you feel special, but obviously I failed.”

  “You didn’t fail me, Mom. I made my own choices. You know I’ve never been easy to control.”

  “No.” She chuckled. “You definitely have not. When you were a toddler, you used to flip over the coffee table because you thought you were the Hulk. At playgrounds, if I turned my back for a second, you’d strip down naked and pee on trees.”

  “Well, in my defense, that just sounds like crappy parenting. Way to go, Mom.”

  We laughed, and she leaned over to kiss my forehead as if I were still a small child. “I’ve missed you.”