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I hardly dare ask the question, but I have to know.
“Yeah, Lady M, I’d like that,” he says softly. “I know you don’t want to be with me any more, and I respect that, I do… But I liked the idea of still being close to you, even if I didn’t actually see you. It’s why I pushed so hard for this movie to still be filmed here, even though we’d broken up by then. Shit, that sounds creepy when I say it out loud. Like I’m some kind of psycho stalker.”
He puts his hands over his face, peeping out at me from between his fingers.
“It’s not creepy,” I tell him, wanting to reach out to him, but not quite daring to. “It’s nice, actually.”
It’s quite a bit more than just ‘nice’, really, but my mind is whirring so much that my mouth can’t quite seem to keep up with it.
“Yeah? Well, I’m glad you think so. But I didn’t buy it in the end.”
His face darkens.
“Why not?”
“Because I can’t keep doing this, Lexie.” He looks me right in the eye, his expression anguished. “I thought I could, but I can’t do it. I can’t keep pretending I’m not still in love with you when you’re all I think about. I’m not that good an actor.”
Before I can reply, he pushes open the gate in the fence separating us from the beach, and is gone, striding down the wet sand towards the water.
“Jett, wait!” I scream, rushing to follow him. “You can’t just say that then walk away!”
I stumble onto the beach after him, somehow managing to remain upright in spite of my dodgy ankle and spinning head. The last thing I need right now is to have yet another accident, but I’ll happily twist my ankle again — or, hell, I’ll evenbreakthe thing if I have to — if that’s what it’s going to take here.
“You can’t walk away from me,” I sob, catching up with him as he pauses, halfway to where the waves are crashing against the shore. “You just can’t.”
Jett turns to face me, his hair damp from the drizzly rain.
“No, Lexie,” he says, pushing it back out of his eyes. “No, I can’t. I can’t walk away from you. God knows, I’ve tried hard enough.”
It’s still raining lightly, but I somehow don’t think that’s why my cheeks are wet. With a sigh that seems to come right from his soul, Jett steps towards me, cupping my face tenderly in his hands as he brushes the tears away.
“But… the letter,” I manage to say, my voice shaking. “I left you a letter. I told you to call me if you wanted to sort things out, but you never did. Why didn’t you call me, Jett?”
The last words come out in a sob, and he looks down at me, frowning.
“What letter? There was no letter. There was nothing; just an empty house. Dad and I turned the place upside down, looking for one.”
“Wait,” I say, realization dawning. “Did you say your dad was there? When you got back from the Gala that night?”
“Yeah. He came back with me in the car; said he wanted to talk to you after … well, after what happened. He was worried he’d said something to upset you. I think he wanted to apologize.”
“He wanted toapologize? Tome? Your dad wanted to apologize tome?”
Damn, he’s good. You have to hand it to him, really.
“Well, yeah. He was worried it might have been something he said that made you run off like that. I told him it wasn’t — I know it was my fault — but he insisted on coming back with me. Why do you ask, though? What’s my dad got to do with anything?”
Jett looks puzzled. I can’t believe he isn’t getting it.
“Jett, your dad tried to bribe me,” I say slowly. “He threatened to go to the press — or the police, even — about Mum, and tell them how she paid someone to try to sabotage Jack Buchanan’s distillery. Jack never pressed charges, but your dad said the police might charge her anyway if someone told them about it. I bet he took the letter I left for you, too. And the money. I left the money you gave me. I’m guessing you didn’t find that either?”
“No. No, I didn’t.”
Jett’s hands fall to his sides as he steps away from me, his eyes flashing dangerously as he takes this in. Even the waves behind us seem to hold their breath for a moment as I pick my way tentatively across the sand after him.
“So I guess that’s why you called him a… what was it again? A ‘bawbag’?”
He’s standing closer to the water now, his hands thrust into his pockets as he stares out at the dark horizon.
