Pervade Montego Bay

by Fewings, Vanessa

  Louis joined us at our table. He invited a waiter over, who cracked open a bottle of champagne for us. We raised our glasses and toasted his performance. Guests approached our table to congratulate him on a great concert. He was patient and graciously chatted with all of them.

  Now, it was Em’s turn to shine.

  Leaving her with Louis at the table, I headed over to stand behind the bar so I could focus. Pulling out my phone, I quickly got to work.

  There came that familiar rush I always felt when I used my gift to hack into a person’s device and dive deep into their life. The intel came up fast—Trevor was a staff writer with the Washington Post. Somehow, he’d uncovered a small thread in Louis’ life and was pulling on it, hoping to unravel a bigger secret.

  According to the exchange of texts in Trevor’s phone, he’d bribed one of the musicians to let him in. How do you get a reporter off your tail? You make him feel like he’s getting closer to the story he’s chasing.

  I hacked into the phone belonging to the musician Trevor had bribed. Trevor had paid his way in with cash. I’d deal with the musician later—or James would. That unfortunate employee had signed a non-disclosure agreement.

  Pretending to text from the same drummer’s phone, I informed Trevor there was an exclusive number of guests who were invited to join Louis on his private yacht this evening. Just a select few in an intimate jaunt around Montego Bay. These lucky VIPs were going to get to mingle exclusively with their enigmatic host.

  Arranging the yacht excursion took a little longer.

  Standing barefoot on the sandy beach, I watched Trevor stroll down to the dock. He boarded the yacht, along with thirty or so other guests. Trevor would no doubt be eager to get closer to the man he was hoping to feature in his investigate piece.

  I stood there until the yacht sailed away.

  Even from here, I could see Trevor pushing through the crowd of party guests looking for Louis.

  After I dusted the sand off my feet, I pulled on my socks and shoes and ambled back to the party. Louis was shaking his head with amusement when I reached our table. He’d remained in the house until Trevor was on his way out to sea.

  I widened my arms, showing I’d gotten rid of our problem. “Boom.”

  “Boom indeed,” said Louis.

  Within a few minutes, Emily took to the stage with her violin. The crowd hushed and guests gathered closer to the stage.

  James pulled out a chair and sat beside me. “She’s playing?”

  “Champagne?” Louis offered him.

  James accepted the glass from him. “Thank you.” He turned his attention to the stage, where Emily was poised to begin. His look of concern deepened as he scanned the crowd for Trevor.

  “He’s on the yacht,” I said without looking at him.

  James let out a sigh of relief and patted my back.

  I’d do anything to make Emily happy. I’d lost her once. During that time, I might as well have had my oxygen supply cut off.

  The fine hairs on my forearms prickled as her bow caressed the strings of her violin, eliciting an unearthly magic, her instrument an effortless extension of herself. Notes escaped like an incantation set free as she mesmerized the audience. She began with the piece she’d played just before we’d first met in London—Niccolò Paganini’s Caprice No. 24, and I knew she was playing it for me.

  Louis shook his head in awe. “Have you ever heard anything like it?”

  “Honestly, no.” James’ tone was filled with pride.

  I saw the way he looked at Emily with adoration, his face haunted with misery as though only now realizing what he was losing.

  He’d hurt her to protect her from himself. James was being crushed by the weight of his own convictions. He rose from his seat, perhaps too overwhelmed to listen any longer to those beautiful endless notes. With a touch of his forearm, I asked him to stay.

  Emily would want him to.

  James gave me a nod of understanding and sat down again, grabbing his glass of champagne. He finished it and Louis poured him another. James quickly finished that one off, too.

  “I know,” I whispered.

  James refused to look at me—he was too choked up to answer.

  Xavier

  Louis handed me the shot glass of espresso with a look that told me it would hit the mark. He really did make the best coffee. It tasted bittersweet, and the buzz made me blink. I savored the rush despite it being 1:00 A.M.

  James leaned against the kitchen counter with an inquisitive expression. The last of the party guests had left and we were starting to wind down. He looked over at Louis who was drinking champagne from a bottle.

  “It went well tonight,” said James. “Are you happy?”

  Louis took another swig. “We have a lot of great toys to drop off. Will you help me deliver them?”

  “Of course,” said James. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

  James shifted his stance, as though ready to have that chat.

  Louis became worried. “Problem?”

  “I’m tightening your security,” he said.

  Louis’ smile faded.

  “Just for a while.”

  “As long as I don’t see them.” Louis tipped the bottle and finished it off.

  James turned to me. “Get Emily.”

  “She’s staying here tonight,” said Louis.

  James gave him a curious look.

  “She’ll be safe here,” I said. “You and I are taking a short trip, James.”

  He glanced at his watch. “Where?”

  The sound of helicopter blades cutting through the air had him pinning a glare on me.

  “I’ll brief you on the way,” I told him.

  Within five minutes, I’d kissed Emily goodnight in one of the guest bedrooms and had escorted James out to the helicopter, which sat at the edge of the garden.

  I secured the backpack I’d brought in the seat beside mine as the helicopter flew us away from Louis’ estate.

  James pointed to my rucksack. “What’s in there?”

  “Stuff we’ll need,” I answered, being deliberately vague.

  “What the fuck is going on?”

  “We’re going to change a life.”

  “Brief me.”

  “I’ll brief you on the ground.” I tapped my earpiece hinting I wanted to keep this covert.

  With the dark blue ocean on our left we flew low over the coast. I was glad for the thrum of caffeine buzzing through my veins.

  James’ jaw was tense as he tried to figure out where we were going. He looked exhausted, which I’d use to my advantage later.

  “Do you trust me, James?”

  “Usually.”

  His gut was probably telling him something was off. There was no way I could share the fact that his instincts were right. I needed him compliant.

  Within twenty minutes, our helicopter set down at the deserted entry point to Dunn’s River Falls. During the day this area was full of tourists and locals eager to make their way up the pathway to the spectacular waterfall. At 2:00 A.M., we were the only ones hiking up the trail. I fished a flashlight out of my sack and then flung the backpack behind me, pulling my arms through it.

  James pointed to his tuxedo. “We’re not exactly dressed for this.”

  “It’s only a twenty-minute walk over there.” As he well knew.

  “Are we meeting someone?”

  The helicopter lifted off and we shielded our faces from the spray of debris. It banked left over the tall palm trees.

  James kept the chopper in his sights until it disappeared. “I’m not taking another step until you tell me what’s going on.”

  I hurried over to the trailhead while ignoring his grumbling, which was understandable considering we were in the middle of nowhere and we should have passed out in bed an hour ago.

  The familiar sound of frogs singing filled the warm night air. My flashlight lit the pathway, clear from the usual endless visitors who’d crowd it during the day.

/>   I trudged forward with a sense of grief. I didn’t want to do this…didn’t want to put James through any more pain.

  “Xavier!” The fact he wasn’t breathless was proof of his fitness.

  Up ahead there was a vast rock formation with a foaming river tumbling over its side. A full moon illuminated the picturesque setting. I breathed in the cooler fresh air, easily lulled by the rush of the waterfall that cascaded into the silvery pool of water several yards ahead.

  Watching my footing, I made my way to the edge of the water and then set my rucksack on the ground, shoving my flashlight inside.

  “Wow.” I took in the breathtaking view of the lagoon shimmering in front of me, being careful not to fall off the ten-foot bank into the water below. “You used to come here as a boy?”

  James was scanning the surrounding area, waiting for our contact to emerge from the lush foliage.

  “James?” I got his attention.

  He joined me at the edge. “Yes.”

  “Happy memories, I imagine.”

  He shrugged. “At least I was wearing more appropriate shoes.”

  “You came here with Victoria?”

  “My mum met my dad here.”

  “You brought Victoria here, too?” I pushed for an answer.

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Have you been back since?”

  “Since when?”

  “James,” I said, my tone chastising his avoidance.

  He let out a sigh. “No.”

  “That’s a shame.”

  “I’ve been busy.”

  “Still, this place is a part of you.”

  He turned to face me. “If you’re going to propose marriage again—”

  “I proposed back at Louis’.”

  “Then what is this?”

  “I broke a promise.”

  “What promise?”

  “You and I made a promise that we would never use our technology against each other.”

  “I’ve kept that promise.”

  “I know.”

  “Xavier, what’s this about?”

  “I accessed the footage recorded around the time of Victoria’s death.” I paused. “Ivor was responsible. Farmer gave the order for him to plant the device beneath Victoria’s car.”

  “This is old news, Xavier.”

  “True.”

  “So what did you discover?”

  “You were aboard the HMS Majesty the day of your wife’s death.”

  “Which is documented on the ship’s log.”

  “You were placed on compassionate leave immediately.” I turned to face him. “The HMS Majesty surfaced, and you were transported by helicopter to Germany. From there you caught a military flight back to London.”

  He gave a nod, his brow furrowed as he followed my words.

  “You arrived at The Royal London Burn Unit just after 9:00 P.M. I imagine you were exhausted. After all, you’d been running war drills for forty-eight hours prior to that and hadn’t slept in days.”

  “Not unusual.”

  “The doctor stopped you before you went in to see Victoria in the ICU…to prepare you.”

  “What the fuck is this?”

  “I think I know why you can’t move forward, James.”

  He stepped back. “Fuck you for bringing me here and making me replay the worst day of my life.”

  “You need to face the truth.”

  “How, exactly?”

  Closing the gap between us, I shoved him hard. James lost his balance and fell backward into the lagoon, splashing as he went under, fully immersed.

  James rose quickly to the surface and pushed himself up, standing chest high in the pool of water. “What was that for?” His face contorted in shock. “Have you any idea how cold this is!”

  “I can only imagine.”

  He swept his streaming wet hair back from his face. “You’ve lost your mind.”

  “I tracked your movement through the hospital,” I called down to him. “Utilizing the archived footage caught on the hospital security cameras. You spent two days sitting beside Victoria in the ICU. She was on a ventilator, barely clinging to life, and so severely burned you didn’t recognize her.”

  James still stood where he’d fallen, seemingly riveted to my words, his expression one of anguish.

  “They say the unconscious can hear conversations around them. I imagine you talked to her. Comforted her.”

  “Why are you doing this?” he asked quietly.

  “Because I know.”

  He shook his head. “Know what?”

  “What happened in your mind.”

  “You can’t rewire a person, Xavier, like one of your AIs.”

  “An hour before her recorded death, you left Victoria’s side to go to the chapel. I watched you on the security footage.”

  He looked away, as though resigned to the fact this story would find its way out into the world—this truth he’d never shared with anyone.

  “And you prayed for her…for Victoria,” I said softly.

  Though there were no cameras in the chapel, I imagined him kneeling with his hands clenched in prayer, perhaps resting on the front pew as he pleaded with God.

  He shook his head in despair.

  “Say it, James.”

  “Say what?”

  “Tell me what’s haunted you all these years.”

  “I’m not doing this.”

  “If not now, when?”

  He shook his head as though fearing to go there.

  “It’s me,” I said, my voice low.

  “I prayed for Victoria to die.” James raised his hands in frustration. “And God answered my prayer. What kind of husband does that?”

  “James, I examined the records. Nothing could be done.”

  He ran a shaky hand through his hair. “I wasn’t strong enough for her.”

  “I disagree.”

  “I should have prayed for her to live.”

  “You prayed for her to be free of pain.”

  “I let her go. I gave up and didn’t fight for her.”

  “The doctors asked for your permission to remove the ventilator, James. I imagine you prayed for God to make the decision for you. That’s what anyone would have done under the circumstances.”

  His anguished gaze rose to meet mine.

  “You did nothing wrong,” I told him.

  “You should be asking yourself if I’ve ever done anything right.”

  “You have a wound so deep no one can reach it, James. Not even you. Help me to help you heal that fissure in your broken heart.”

  Chewing his lip, he held back on showing emotion, his Adam’s apple rolling as he struggled to swallow his surging grief.

  “Forgive yourself,” I said. “That’s the only way you’ll heal and move on.”

  He stared off toward the rocks as though seeking answers that were just out of reach. “Why here?”

  This place ran through his blood—though I didn’t think he was ready to hear that sentimentality.

  He splashed over and climbed onto the bank. I leaned down and offered him my hand, pulling him up.

  James pointed to the rucksack. “That better be fresh clothes in there.”

  I knelt and opened the bag, pulling out a towel, jeans, a T-shirt, and shoes for him.

  “Was this meant to be some kind of baptism?” he snapped.

  “A purification.”

  “I can’t believe you’d have the audacity to do this to me.”

  “I would do anything to reach you.”

  James stripped out of his wet clothes and used the towel. “How long have you been planning this debacle?”

  “Guilt is eating you alive. I will not abandon you when you need me the most.”

  “I fucking deserve it.” He waved his hand through the air. “Now you know what kind of monster I am. If anything happens to you, I’ll be praying for your swift death, too. How does it feel?”

  “The reason wasn’t because she’d be disfigu
red if she survived, James. You would have been there for her no matter what.”

  “And you know that for sure?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “How do you know?” He tugged his T-shirt down.

  “Because you blew up your life, Ballad. You resigned your commission with the Royal Navy and joined MI6. You left your beloved profession for her. Then you went on a killing rampage to get revenge for what they did to Victoria. You proved you would do anything to get justice for her—including risking your own life. Obviously, you would have done anything to keep her alive.”

  He stared at me, furious. “You are an abomination, Xavier. Your brilliant mind is a fucking curse.”

  I exhaled slowly, keeping my reaction cool. “It’s not the first time someone’s mentioned that,” I admitted.

  He was walking away, returning to the path that led back to where the helicopter had landed.

  You failed him.

  I glanced back at the clear lagoon, my feet refusing to move. Water had a way of healing…but sometimes, it was merely a place to drown.

  Xavier

  An empty bottle of Appleton Estate Rum rested on the kitchen counter.

  I stared at it for the longest time, second guessing myself for monumentally fucking up last night. I was the reason that bottle had been consumed.

  With Emily still over at Louis’ place, I’d woken this morning with nothing to distract me. No cheeky grin from my girl, no crazy life musings from her that always set my day off right.

  I had to face the haunting fact that I’d only succeeded in hurting James when I’d flown him to Dunn’s River Falls and made him relive the most agonizing time in his life.

  A misfire…

  With all that rum inside him, the fallout from last night was going to mean he’d kick off this morning with one hell of a hangover. As I was responsible, I set about making it right, flicking on the coffeemaker so I could brew him a hot drink and pouring some orange juice. Even though he’d probably not want it, I made him breakfast.

  Carrying the tray holding my peace offering, I ascended the stairs to his room, running through all the things I’d say to explain my reasoning. I might even have appeared selfish, though that wasn’t truly the case.