by Jean Oram
“Sounds good to me.”
She curled toward him to rest her head on his chest. His hand traced slow circles on her bare shoulder as they lay side-by-side, the grass trapped beneath the blanket crinkling under their weight. Somewhere, a fat bumblebee puttered along making happy buzzing noises, but it couldn’t compete with the happy buzzing of Eva’s heart.
“Why did you leave Atlanta?” she asked after a few minutes.
Ben grew still.
“It’s okay, you don’t have to answer.” She of all people knew about painful memories.
“No, it’s okay.” He turned his head to look at her. “We’re sharing, right?”
But rather than answer the question, he sat up and plucked a nearby buckhorn weed. He ducked his head over the weed, giving it all his attention as he tore it to pieces. Obviously this was something difficult, and Eva was about to let him off the hook again when he sighed deeply.
“Tyler tells me I always want to play the hero, and maybe I do. When I was a kid, I was into all that stuff—Batman, Justice League, Navy Seals, you name it, I loved it.” He smiled wryly. “I was probably the only kid in Indigo Bay who could name every Power Ranger dating back to the beginning. So becoming a police officer felt like the natural thing to do.”
Bits of the shredded buckhorn fell into his lap.
“I spent about a year and a half on the Indigo Bay police force. And I hated it. Not exciting enough,” he said quickly, seeing the question forming on her face. “I wanted to catch bad guys, not chaperone rowdy teenagers after a football game. So I applied with the Atlanta PD and they took me. I was so excited.”
The pain was raw in his voice, and Eva couldn’t resist the urge to touch him. She put her hand gently on his arm, a silent gesture of support.
“One night, we were out on patrol, me and my partner … Griffin. We were sitting in the squad car keeping an eye on the street, talking about normal things. They’d just learned his wife was expecting their second kid. They were so happy.”
Ben’s fist tightened around the remaining bits of the buckhorn. “I saw this guy running toward us from the corner of my eye. Normally we’d jump out of the car, but this time … I ducked. I don’t know why, instinct maybe. The bullet went through my window, right where I’d been sitting, and hit Griffin instead.”
“He shot at you?” Eva gasped. “Why?”
The skin on Ben’s jaw tightened as he ground his teeth together. “He was drunk and strung out on crack. I don’t know why he picked us specifically; probably had some grudge against the police. We ran into that a lot.”
“What happened to your partner?”
“The bullet hit him in the neck. He lost a lot of blood, but the doctors managed to save his life. He’s paralyzed, though, his whole left side.” His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. “He’s got a family. A wife and two little girls.” Ben tossed the withered remains of the buckhorn to the side and wiped his hands on the blanket.
“And you blame yourself because you ducked?” Eva finally asked.
“I don’t know. I mean, I know it’s stupid; Griffin wouldn’t have wanted me to get shot either. But I guess I feel like I got away with something, like I made him pay a debt that should have been mine.” He spread his hands, and the helpless look in his eyes made her heart twist.
“You were reading about Lawrence Oates when I saw you in the library,” Eva remembered. “You called him a hero. Because of this?”
Ben sighed heavily. “Maybe a bit. I know it wasn’t my fault, but I still feel guilty. I always thought of myself as a tough guy, someone who would be willing to put my life in danger for someone else. But when it came down to it, I didn’t.”
“You ducked,” Eva argued. “Whether by coincidence or instinct, doesn’t matter. It doesn’t mean you chickened out or you let your partner down.”
He shrugged. “I keep trying to tell myself that, but so far, it’s been a hard sell.”
She reached out and traced the wrinkles along his forehead, wishing she could ease the pain and guilt etched there. His arm circled her hips and pulled her closer, and this time when his head dipped to hers, their kisses held a deeper urgency, as if creating enough good feelings could drive out the bad ones for both of them.
Chapter 9
Eva shut the back door of the chocolate shop and turned the key, sighing in relief as the deadbolt slid home. The shop usually closed at eight on weekdays, but they’d been extra busy because of the summer festival and it was after nine by the time the last customer left. After cleaning up, she’d sent Kailey, the counter help, home, and stayed to finish the bookkeeping. Miss Eulalie was attending a family wedding in Washington DC and Eva couldn’t wait for her to get back.
There was no breeze and the summer night was warm and sticky, thick with the buzzing of cicadas. Eva’s mind lingered on the nougat she’d left to cool overnight, and it wasn’t until she’d made the turn off Magnolia Street that she realized something was wrong. The back of her neck prickled with an unmistakable sensation of being watched.
She stopped and spun quickly in a circle. The street was mostly residential and foot traffic was lighter than on the larger thoroughfares. Lit windows glowed in most of the houses, but tonight, the sidewalks were empty.
The prickling sensation came again and Eva started walking faster this time as she reached into her purse for her phone. Ben was working tonight and he could probably swing by and give her a ride. Her finger hovered over the button to call him, but she didn’t press it, feeling silly for pulling him away from work if she was being paranoid.
The sun sunk below the horizon, taking the last of the light with it as she walked. Eva had always felt safe here, but now, the distance she had to cover seemed like a million miles. The street held several empty lots she had to pass and the weeds were tall; shadows seemed to lurk behind every tree. The gravel along the side of the road was deep and slippery, sending her skidding. She glanced back again and her heart dropped to her knees as the dark shape of a man rounded the corner, heading straight toward her.
Eva abandoned all pretense of playing it cool. The gravel scattered under her feet as she leaped onto the sturdier asphalt and bolted.
“Hey! Wait!” The man gave a cry.
Her ankle twinged and Eva gasped in pain, but she kept going. Her heart pounded and her throat was dry. Behind her she could hear the thud of the man’s footsteps. She fumbled at her phone.
“Seranyevah! It’s Sam!”
She skidded and whirled around. The man was taller than she was, but not by much, and his dark hair hung long and loose on either side of his narrow face. The light was dim, but she didn’t need to see to know the exact color of his eyes—brilliant blue, like hers. When they were children, they were often mistaken for twins, though he was almost two years younger. Her brother, her only true brother in a world where everyone was supposed to be a brother or sister.
“Sam!” Tears sprang to her eyes, and she ran, toward him this time, to throw herself into his arms. “What are you doing here?”
He was still panting from his sprint to reach her. “I … I saw you earlier through the window at the shop. I’ve been waiting for you to be done.”
He wore a loose button-down shirt over faded khakis and a pair of battered sandals. His chin was covered in scraggly whiskers. Her tears overflowed as equal parts joy, guilt, and terror reared up and threatened to overwhelm her.
“Sam! Did Dora send you? I’m so sorry, I meant to call her before now. I’ve been … I missed you so much.” Her words came tumbling out and she let go of him to survey the deserted road. “Are you alone?”
“I’m alone,” Sam said earnestly. “They don’t know I’m here, Seranyevah, I promise.”
“It’s Eva now,” she told him. Her hands brushed over his face, still unwilling to believe he was actually here. She’d thought of him so often, worried about him, wished she could contact him. But fear had held her back.
She grabbed his arm. “
Come on. I don’t like being out in the open.”
“I got to get my bag.” Sam jabbed his thumb over his shoulder and she saw a crumpled backpack lying on the side of the road where he must have dropped it to give chase. “Good to know you can still run as fast as you ever could.” He grinned.
They went back for his bag, then down Seaside to her apartment. A thousand questions spun through her mind, leapfrogging over one another before she even had a chance to phrase them, so she decided to wait until they were indoors. For now, it was enough to clutch his arm, breathe in his familiar scent, and know he was really here.
“Nice place,” Sam said when they got inside. “I guess we can stop worrying about you, then?” He wandered around the room, examining the furnishings.
“We?”
Sam picked up the piece of sea glass from her bookshelf and turned it over in his fingers. “Me and Naralyiea and a few others.”
He didn’t have to say it, and Eva didn’t ask. Their mother had not missed her.
“Have you heard from Mom?” she asked quietly.
Sam’s cheek hardened as he clenched his jaw. “Nope.”
Eva nodded; she’d expected that.
“Was you ever going to come back, or even let me know you were okay?” Sam’s voice caught.
Guilt sat heavily in her chest. She’d come to Indigo Bay with the plan to earn enough money to send for Sam. But lately, her time with the Family had felt like something from someone else’s life, surreal almost, like an episode of a very dark television show she never planned to re-watch. Bringing Sam here would reopen everything.
And, if she were honest, it would get in the way with what she had growing with Ben.
“I was going to send for you,” she told him, hating how guilty and helpless she sounded. “I needed to get established, earn some money …”
His gaze darted around the apartment. Small, but practically a palace compared to where they’d been, where he’d so recently been. Sam’s eyes cut back to hers and she knew they were both thinking the same thing.
He set the piece of sea glass back on the shelf with a small clunk. “You got anything to eat? I’m starving.”
“Sorry, I should have thought of that.” Relived to have something else to focus on, Eva hurried to the kitchen.
Sam inhaled two bologna sandwiches as quickly as she could make them. “They tightened security for a while after you left,” he said around a mouthful. “But now things are back to normal.”
Of course. The Family had to balance their need for control with the money the members brought in by working outside the Compound. “Is that how you got out?”
He nodded. “I was doing drywall in Clayton and asked my boss to drive me to the Mayway truck stop after work. It was easy to hitchhike from there.”
From there straight to here. Eva’s throat tightened. “And Dora England told you where to find me?”
He picked at the last remaining crust of his sandwich. “Yeah.”
She tightened the lid on the jar of mayo with shaking fingers. “She said she’d wait until I was ready.”
“No, it wasn’t like that,” Sam said quickly. “She found me in town a few weeks after you left and told me you were okay. Wouldn’t tell me where you was, but I … I kept going over to her house and finally I wore her down. But she made me promise not to tell anyone else.”
Eva breathed easier, but only a little. She’d just started feeling safe, right up until Miss Eulalie had opened the windows to the chocolate shop workroom. But now the old fear was back.
“I promise, Mrs. England won’t tell anyone else where you are,” Sam said, stuffing the rest of his sandwich into his mouth.
Eva eyed her brother’s hollow cheeks. “The bologna is gone, but I could make you some scrambled eggs,” she offered.
“That’d be great!” His eyes lit up. “I mean, if you can. I don’t want to eat all your food.”
The memory of those hungry days lingered in the air between them. “I’ve got enough food,” Eva said gently. “Would you like to shower while I cook the eggs?”
“You mean you want me to shower?” He laughed, and the tension in the room evaporated. “Thank you, that’d be great. You don’t got an extra set of clothes that would fit me, do you?”
“Sorry, you outgrew my clothes when you were twelve,” Eva teased. “But I have a washer and dryer. You can wear a blanket while we wash your clothes, and then tomorrow we can get some new ones.” Her bank account balance flashed through her mind. Even if they went to the thrift store, she didn’t have enough to clothe and feed Sam for long. If only he’d waited a few more months.
“Are … are you visiting or is this a permanent change?” she asked, trying for subtlety. “I mean, now that you’ve found me, will you go back?”
For a moment, something flashed in his eyes—confusion, regret, and the pain she recognized as homesickness. She’d felt it too, during those first months in Indigo Bay when the realization of what she’d done was still sinking in. “I can’t go back,” he finally said. “I … it’s not the same without you. So I was wondering … Eva, what if we tried to find Dad?”
Eva ducked her head into the fridge and pretended to be searching for the eggs. Her thoughts whirled. The only thing she knew about their father was that his name was Jim Malone, and after the divorce, he’d moved to Texas.
She’d had a life before the Family. Maybe if they found their dad, he could help her remember it.
But, she had a life here now, with Ben.
She pulled her head and the carton of eggs from the fridge. “I guess we could try,” she said. They didn’t need to decide anything tonight and Sam needed hope, an idea to cling to that would help him see life could be good outside the Family.
When Sam emerged from the shower with a thin fleece blanket draped around his narrow hips, she fed him all the eggs in the house, half a loaf of bread, and three bananas. By the time he’d finished eating, some of the pallor was gone from his face and his eyes carried a bit of the old spark. He sat on the sofa, thumbing through a book she’d bought on the First World War, while Eva loaded his clothes into the small, stacked washer and dryer in the bathroom.
Her mind churned. Sam obviously didn’t have any money and she doubted he had ID. Maybe he could work odd jobs for a while and once they had some money saved, they could talk more seriously about finding their father. Were there enough odd jobs in Indigo Bay for him, and would Marjorie let him live here with her?
And what about Ben? Things were going well between them, but what would happen once she added her brother to the mix? Her brother, who was learning everything anew and trying to navigate the world like she had six months ago. And he wasn’t—she swallowed at the disloyal admission—he wasn’t as strong as she was. He’d need more help than she’d had.
By the time she handed him a pillow and a spare blanket, she was more confused than ever.
“Get some sleep and we can talk more about Dad in the morning,” she suggested.
He looped a scrawny arm around her shoulders and pulled her into a quick hug. “Thanks. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Eva returned the hug, but dread fluttered in her stomach, something dark and desperate. This life was supposed to be behind her.
Chapter 10
“You can’t prove anything,” the woman said, glaring from her seat next to Ben’s desk. Her leathery brown arms were heavy with fat and she held them tightly folded across her sagging chest, obscuring the Indigo Bay logo printed across the front of her bright pink tank top.
“Perhaps not, ma’am,” Ben said. He kept his head down, focusing on the form he was filling out. “But from the looks of it, you’ve raised enough money to fill your gas tank several times over.” He pointed his pen toward the stack of cash on the fake woodgrain top of his desk.
The police department had received complaints about a woman roaming around downtown asking for money. When they responded, they found the woman to be from out
of town, with plenty of gas in her newer-model car, and—thanks to the generosity of strangers—plenty of cash.
“We have your picture for the wall, so I’m going to assume we won’t see you again?” Ben said forcefully, looking up. He scooped the pile of money from the side of the desk and held it out, meeting the woman’s hard stare. Her eyes were pale blue, piercing, and icy. Finally, she grunted and gave him a slight nod, then stuffed the money into her large, battered purse.
Ben’s chair squeaked as he slid it back and stood. The woman followed him to the door, and after one last surly glance, she pulled it open and stomped down the steps. The door whooshed shut behind her, bringing a wave of muggy summer air, and Ben caught a glimpse of the sun filtering through wispy white clouds against an azure sky. He was supposed to meet Eva for a picnic in ten minutes. Instead, he’d be stuck here for at least another hour filling out paperwork.
“Nice work, Andrews.” Paul shot him a grin from his own desk. “Third one this week.”
Ben sighed and slumped back into his own chair. “Same old scam. Why do people keep falling for it?”
“Tugs on the heartstrings. Old lady claims she’s been mugged and needs gas money to get back home? Who’s going to say no to that?”
“Well, they should.” Ben ground his teeth and turned his attention to his computer. The woman had raised more than two hundred dollars in one day by hustling people on the beach and amid the downtown shops, and the irritation stabbed like a splinter in his chest.
“Forget about it,” Paul advised. “It’s all part of the job.”
Yes, Ben knew that. And he was grateful to be here in Indigo Bay, rounding up petty thieves instead of facing down a drug cartel in Atlanta. He took a deep breath and tried to calm his exasperation. Paul was right; it was part of the job.
“I think you’re cranky about something else,” Amelia said from the reception desk. She flashed him a syrupy grin. “I’ve seen the way you keep pulling up pictures of that girl on your phone.”
