“On two of the women found at the grave, there were signs of a gash on their chest. We had seen this on several other victims and at least one other victim that had escaped.”
A horrible metallic taste enters my mouth and I realize I’ve clenched my jaw so tight I bit the inside of my cheek. Two images flash in my mind when he describes these wounds.
My mother and Martha Sanders.
The imagesfrom the detective linger in my mind on the way back from the meeting. I had no doubt now about the scars on my mother’s chest but she still didn’t open up about it. She refused to speak, although her pale skin and shaky hands gave her away. I drove, fighting back wave after wave of nausea.
We’re headed down the main road and up ahead I see the turn-off. I don’t ask, I just take it, guiding the car down the bumpy dirt road.
“Where are you going?” she asks, already knowing the answer.
“Taking you to Richard.”
“I don’t think I’m up to a visit.”
I pull into the driveway and park the car. “Go talk to him.”
She doesn’t get a chance to run this time because Richard must have heard our arrival and steps outside.
“Go to him, mom. Let him help you.”
She opens the door slowly and hops out of the seat. I watch as they make their way to one another, tentative, but there was no doubt about the love he held for her in his eyes. I look away, toward the cottage, as they embrace, allowing them to have their moment in peace. I spot a silhouette heading down the boardwalk and I hop out, following.
Nerves race through me, knowing this may be my chance to talk to Justin, but when I get to the sun-baked boardwalk I realize it’s Whit. I owe him a different sort of apology and chase him down to the edge of the dock, calling his name.
He turns at the pounding of my feet and a slow smile tugs at his lips. My eyes flick upwards and I wince at the deep purple bruise surrounding his eye. We meet on the dock and I carefully touch his face.
“Mason?”
“He got in a lucky hit.”
He grimaces when my fingers graze too close. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. That asshole had it coming.” He bends down and kisses me. “I see Nick talked you into coming back.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Wasn’t that the plan?”
“He’s a sweet-talker. I would’ve made things worse.”
“I doubt that.” My fingers are twisted in his T-shirt. I don’t know if I realized how much I missed him until this very moment. “How much trouble did you get, punching Mason?”
“Randy, the owner of the bar, called the cops and arrested me and Mason for fighting.” His jaw tenses. “It’s not my first bar fight.”
“Shit. Whit, that is not okay.” I think of how Maggie was holding him back. She knew he was likely to jump in. The idea of Whit going to jail for me or any sort of punishment is a weight too much. “What about school?”
“There will be a discipline hearing before I can start.” He brushes a string of hair out of my face. “I’ve been in a lot of fights, Summer, but this was the first one I believed in. No one treats my girl like that and gets away clean. No one.”
His words hit me in the chest, so pure and honest. Mason had rejected me when things got tough. My dad is barely around—he doesn’t even know what happened to me. But this guy and hisshaggy long hair, sexy smile, and killer body risked it all for me. I’ve never experienced that before.
“Thank you for defending me,” I say, linking my arms around his neck.
“Anytime, babe.” His lips meet mine again and his kiss is brighter than the sun. I feel his hands running up and down my back and exhale, absorbing everything about the moment; the sun, the water, and especially him. “I’m just glad you came back.”
“I think you guys are stuck with me now.”
“I can think of worse things.”
I fall into him, probably similar to my mother down the dock and in the house. I’ve got two of these Ocean Beach Boys back on my side…there’s just two to go.
