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Chapter Ten
-Dante-
IFOUND NOEMI ON THEbeach, toes tickled by the incoming tide while she reclined on a blanket, and the sun painted a horizon of blues, reds and pinks for her viewing pleasure. The juxtaposition was clear but nearly absurd. I spent two hours immersed completely in my world - looking for answers, talking to associates and trying to piece together a macabre puzzle. Seeing her on the beach afterward brought forth the same sense of calm that coming home after a job did. Light. Familiar. Welcoming.
I hadn’t expected that, given that she had discovered my secret, but I recognized it.
If nothing else in this world was real, she was. If I didn’t know who I could trust, I knew I could trust her. I didn’t know how I knew that. Was it because she didn’t scream when she found out I made a living by taking other people’s lives? Because she didn’t insist that I put her on the yacht and immediately take her home?
Noemi wouldn’t go back to Connecticut and tell my story to the world. To my core, I knew I could trust her, but I also knew I would still make the point known. I couldn’t risk anything. She had to understand the position we were in. Nothing could be left up to chance. Not that it would matter if she blabbed to the world. Even if they believed her, all she had was a conversation. No proof. No evidence.
If my crimes could be traced back to me, I’d be a dead man already.
If she ever spoke of it, I’d know it for what it was. Her betrayal.
I could never forgive her for that. I was prepared to live without her if I could continue to admire her from a distance. If she betrayed me, those feelings would change. The poison would spread through me, and I would no longer care whether she lived or died. Distance would be the only thing keeping her safe.
But there was more. I waited for her to bring it up. We hadn’t gotten that far in the conversation before she fainted. That scared the hell out of me. I had yelled for Michael as soon as I caught her. Panicking, I wanted to call for a doctor to be sure she would be all right, but Michael pointed out that we were miles away from civilization. Phillipe, his estate manager, doubled as a medic when needed and took care of her by elevating her legs and checking her vitals. He said she’d be fine. I challenged him. Clearly, she wasn’t fine, or she wouldn’t have fainted, but Michael helped convince me that she needed to eat and drink something. I wanted to kick myself, knowing that she probably wouldn’t have fainted at all if she hadn’t overheard my conversation with Michael.
I wasn’t convinced of anything until she woke up after just a minute or two. If she hadn’t, I don’t know what we would have done. I sat by her bedside, willing her to open her eyes and prove to me that she was fine. I should have stayed with her after we ate, but I needed that time alone. I needed to think about how the next few days would play out.
In the end, I went against everything I believed in and took the coward’s way out, but I also hung my hopes on a frantically whispered prayer to the Virgin Mary that Noemi had forgotten half of what she’d heard and was so shocked by my revelation that the details of my conversation with Michael had been lost.
She turned her head when I lowered myself to sit beside her on the blanket. Ankles crossed, I clasped my hands around my knees and kept my eyes trained on the horizon.
I wasn’t used to beating around the bush. I was tired of being confronted by my shortcomings with every conversation I had with her. The longer I stared at the waves, the more I pulled at the edges of a mask that refused to budge. The other man was in charge now. He wanted to ease her fears. He wanted to apologize for having ruined what was supposed to have been a once in a lifetime experience. He wanted more than I was willing to give and more than I ever deserved to receive.
Noemi bent her head so that her face was in front of mine, blocking the ocean view. “Hi,” she whispered quietly, a shy smile on her face.
“Hello.”
When our eyes met, I surrendered to what the other man wanted. None of this was her fault and it was my responsibility, not hers, to figure out how to make it all work. The burden of my sins caused the shadow in her eyes. It was unacceptable in every way that she had made it from the shadows to the edge of my darkness, but what happened after that rested entirely on my shoulders.
I grabbed her hand and pulled her up. “Walk with me.”
I started to let go of her hand, but she grasped mine tighter. An unfamiliar panic set in, quickly squashed by the man who got his strength from giving her what she needed.
Noemi looked up at me with an expression that begged me not to disappoint her again. I squeezed her hand and gave a tug. One slow step at a time, we walked along the shore, reluctance heavy between us. She didn’t want to let go of me and I didn’t want to talk, but both were inevitable. She needed answers, but I didn’t owe her anything... except her life.
The soft sand gave way to our steps as the waves created their music beside us. Just like the Grand Tropican, I’d been to Michael’s island before, and just like the flowers surrounding bungalow six, I’d never noticed the pristine rhythm of the ocean or the gentle massage of the sand beneath my bare feet.
I cleared my throat.
“Ask,” I invited her, the huskiness of my voice betraying me. “I can’t promise to answer everything, or that you won’t hate me when this is over, but you can ask.”
She grasped my hand tighter. “I could never hate you. I may never fully understand you. But I don’t think I could ever hate you.”
I marveled at her naivete as much as I envied it. I knew she had experienced pain in her life, yet she handled my sins with grace. A grace I hadn’t earned. Soon, she’d know how much I didn’t deserve her charity.
A shell caught my eye. I took her hand with me as I bent to retrieve the coiled treasure whose spirals wrapped around itself in infinite layers one on top of the other. With my free hand, I dusted the sand off the ivory and purple nautilus then flipped it through my fingers, over and over again. The movement soothed me as I waited for her first question. She wouldn’t pass up the chance. I didn’t have to tell her that she’d never get the opportunity to question me again.
If I had the nerve to look at her, I think I would have seen her pensive brow and wise eyes. Naive, yes, but Noemi had an inherent wisdom. She had a way of extracting my truths without a word.
“How long have you been in this line of work?”
Easy enough. “I took my first contract when I was sixteen.”
“That’s so young,” she gasped. Concern made her tighten her grip on my hand. “How? Why?” She stumbled through her questions. “That’s awful, Dante.”
