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Everything is sure as hellnotfine. Nate is dead, his body desecrated, and we’re on this island with a storm approaching. But if we’re on this island alone, that’s the important thing right now. Ihaven’t brought Madison onto the island with a crazed killer. Kit and I will paddle to shore, and everything will be as fine as it possibly can be.
After breakfast, Kit and Jayla insist on cleaning up, which I suspect means they want to talk. Garrett goes on patrol, stalking through the house, checking doors and locks. Madison and I wander to the far end of the great room, where two chairs look out at the view. They don’t quite fit with the rest of the layout—and the interior designer had been horrified—but this is my favorite and most-used spot, where I curl up and write when it’s too chilly to work on the deck.
The other chair had been Kit’s. Now it’s Madison’s, and she takes it, pulling her legs in under her.
“You okay?” she asks.
I choke on a small laugh. “That’s supposed to be my line.”
“You’re the one who found… him.”
I sober and nod.
She switches position, pulling her knees to her chest as she stares out at the rocky beach and water beyond, her gaze saying she sees none of that.
“I liked him,” she whispers.
“So did I. I liked him alot.He was…” My voice catches. “He was a great guy, and I admired the hell out of him.”
“Same,” she says, her voice still soft. “But I mean… I liked him.”
I glance over. “Oh.”
Her cheeks color, and she pulls her knees in tighter. “Remember when you and Kit brought me here at the beginning of the pandemic? When Nate came for a few visits? He was cute and nice and smart and…” She swallows. “I really liked him, Laney. He was the first guy I ever thought of that way.”
She shifts again. “I think he knew, but he never did anything. Hejust kept on being nice to me, and it wasn’t weird or awkward, and that just made me like him more. Lots of guys would have…” She shrugs. “Taken advantage. Or backed off. He didn’t. I dreamed that maybe, someday, when I was a bit older…”
Her cheeks redden again, and I reach over and take her hand, and we sit there, staring out the window and thinking about a boy who’d deserved every good thing life had to offer… and got none of it.
By the time Kit and I head out, it’s dawn. We leave the others to secure the house behind us.
“I keep wanting to say I’m sorry about all this,” Kit says as we make our way over the rock. “I know it sounds trite, and I just…” He throws up his hands. “I don’t know what else to say.”
“It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not okay. Someone targeted you. Hell, I might have sent them your way. They contacted me, and I passed them to you without a second thought.”
“Uh, because you presumed they were normal people interested in a normal property purchase. This?” I wave back at the house. “This is a million miles beyond normal.”
“Is it?” He stuffs his hands in his pockets. “I should know, right? This is my world. I grew up in it. I live in the center of it now.”
Not by choice. Taking over the family business wasn’t what Kit wanted. As a kid, he’d dreamed of starting a band. When he was older, he realized he’d only make a living in music if his parents bankrolled him, and he sure as hell wouldn’t allow that. So his next “dream” was a whole lot like mine, oddly enough.
Or maybe not so oddly, but rather another thing that drew us together. I dreamed of being a writer and became an English teacher to earn a living. He dreamed of being a musician and planned to become a music teacher to earn a living. As undergrads, we even shared teaching-college information.
Neither Kit nor Jayla ever intended to go into the family business, and they had the kind of parents who were absolutely fine with that. His mom had a brother not much older than Jayla, and he’d been working for the corporation since he graduated college.
That uncle died in a car accident six years ago. Then their dad had two heart attacks in a row, the second one scary enough that both parents decided it was time to retire. Jayla was in law school, and that left Kit. Oh, no one expected him to take over the business, but his family needed him, so he said he’d decided he didn’t want to teach, joking he didn’t much like kids anyway—sucha lie—and he threw himself into the job of CEO. That means he does know this cutthroat corporate world, better than he ever wanted to.
“People do shit like this,” he says as we walk along the rocky beach. “I’ve seen them do things that should earn a one-way ticket to a locked ward for sociopathy, and instead, they’re admired for their ‘guts,’ for their ‘business savvy.’” He shakes his head. “I knew those things happen, but I didn’t think twice about passing developers on to you.”
I reach over to rub his back, the gesture automatic. Then I pull back, hands going into my pockets. “It’s not the same. If I were selling a corporation, you’d have been wary. This is a summer house.”
“I’m still sorry.”
“I know.”
“And I’ll stop moaning about it now. That’s the last thing you need.” He glances over. “Hey, did I tell you I learned some new sea shanties?”
