JAMESON
“How do we get back in there?” I questioned Thomas, catching my nerves as they raged with the adrenaline screaming through my veins.
“Jameson, we need to get back to Elizabeth and Sophia. We need to figure this out together.”
I looked at him as though he’d grown a second head. Together was hardly the term Thomas used to describe any decision made regarding me, or any of this, and now he wanted to decide things with Sophia. My brain must have been on some other planet because it wasn’t correctly processing what my ears were hearing.
“What? Since when do you even care?”
“I’ve always cared about you, Jameson. I always will care about you. You’re not—” His speech of loyalty was cut short by Simon’s approach while we stood on the sand.
“Mr. Bellini.” I cleared my throat.
Thomas looked to our side, stealthily hiding any sign of wracked nerves that I knew were firing off within his mind while Simon stepped out of his house and walked toward us—an enormous smile on his face.
“You…” He pointed at me with a smile. “…what’ve you done with my girls?”
My eyes danced to Thomas, who broke out into a throaty laugh before responding for me.
“Jules came by this morning and scooped up all of our girls.” Thomas shook Simon’s hand when the vagabond was within arm’s reach.
I could have leaned forward and strangled him—and I didn’t even have all the evidence yet. I just knew Soph’s privacy was neglected, ruining what innocence she thought was left in her life. Shit. My mind and heart were battling over Soph, both wanting to erase her trauma and both wishing to clear a path for her to be happy. I can make her happy. I will make her happy. I have to.
I knew my smile was slightly uncomfortable, but maybe Simon would only assume I was shaken from the storm. When his hand locked with mine, I imagined snapping his wrist. Get it together, man.
“How’s your house?” Thomas inquired, nodding toward Simon’s house.
We knew exactly how it was. The walls were standing, containing a room of dishonesty and secrets.
“Eh.” Simon glanced back quickly. “It’s got damage on this end. Some windows are lost. Sand in a lot of the rooms. My bedroom and study look vandalized. That’s a hurricane though. Do you two want to come in? The kitchen’s functioning.”
“Ours is barely,” Thomas replied. “Palm tree in the living room.”
“We should probably find Elizabeth,” I announced, stuffing my hands into the pocket of my sweats.
It was quickly getting far too warm to be wearing those on the beach. The midday sun was baking my skin. My hair was crispy and fried from the sun and saltwater. I had only been outside for the walk to Simon’s house, but having been in the water with Soph and not showering since left me feeling like I had already spent the day at the beach. Salty, sweaty…I need a shower. Soph must be feeling terrible. I’ll fix this. I’ll figure this out. She needs to be spoiled. She needs safety to relax. I need to talk to Elizabeth.
“I was going to head out to check on some of my properties,” Simon said, probably covering for himself. “Other areas got it worse than us, believe it or not. Things look out of sorts everywhere. It’s truly awful.”
“Indeed,” Thomas replied, his arms crossing against his chest.
Closing my eyes, my mind went to Soph. Listening to the waves, their melody deceptively calm after the storm, I tried to relax, but all I thought of was the fact her aunt’s boyfriend put a damn tracking device in her cellphone.
“If you don’t mind, I’ll accompany you two back to your place. We can begin the search party for the ladies.”
Search party. You prick.
Thomas nodded, stiffly agreeing to Simon’s company while eyeing me cautiously. We started to move; I was reluctantly following their meandering footsteps.
The amount of rubbish washed up along the beach was daunting. My ankles nearly snapped in half trying to climb over random chunks of crap creating hazards along the sand. I tried to calm myself or, more accurately, not punch Simon’s smile from his face, by tightening my hands into fists within the protected confines of my pockets. Soph, Soph, Soph. Think of her.
“Any word about graduation?” Simon questioned, calling over his shoulder as I lagged behind them. I noticed Thomas glance quickly at me, a brief nod before turning away.
“Nope.” I barely moved my lips in response, knowing anything else might be too venomous at that point. Simon’s head shook, his lips pressed into a thin line while he sighed.
“It’s a pity. I know Jules was really looking forward to the ceremony for Sophia.”
“I don’t think she would’ve gone,” I blurted. “She doesn’t like people.”
“She is sort of reserved,” Simon replied.
Reserved? No. You prick. She isn’t reserved; she is peaceful and hurting. She is beautifully introverted and consumed by trauma that you are now exploiting. Reserved. What the hell?
“She’s a sweet girl,” Thomas interjected. “She’s a good influence on Jameson. She and Olivia Hart both are. Speaking of, I called to check in on the Harts this morning. All is well.”
I watched Simon’s reaction at the mention of Olivia, but he was calm. Too calm. Disturbingly passive. We were so close to our house, but the entire landscape had changed. Familiar landmarks were missing, gardens were destroyed, or boats from the marina now replaced patios. I kept my head down, carefully stepping around five pink plastic flamingos.
“I don’t think Jules will want to stay here,” Simon mumbled, his expression scanning the marina. “And Sophia hasn’t chosen a school yet. Maybe this is the fresh start both of them need. I could go without hurricanes.”
His laughter was like mold floating in dirty dishwater. Was this his passive aggressive way of threatening me? Threatening Thomas and me?
“I thought she wanted to go to Florida International with Olivia,” Thomas said.
I could feel his eyes on me, anticipating any thought or action conceived within me. I lifted my hands to the top of my head, intertwining my fingers and pulling my palms against my scalp so I wouldn’t beat that smirk from Simon’s face.
“No,” Simon sighed. “That girl is so indecisive. She’s lacking the drive it takes to apply. She’s been working with that psychologist at your school. What’s his name?”
“Fitz,” I replied, my words spewing from gritted teeth.
We walked through the sandy side yard between our house and the neighbor’s, approaching our driveway. My heart was frantically pounding, about to explode once I noticed Elizabeth’s car in the driveway. Turning the corner, I saw Jules and Elizabeth in conversation, but no Soph.
“Fitz.” Simon nodded. “He’s been pressing her to apply all over. Mobile, International, Eastern Florida State, Tampa, and the girl won’t decide. I just see this as a sign, you know? Maybe the three of us should just go somewhere and start over.”
My nostrils couldn’t flare any wider. Elizabeth noticed our arrival, already on her way to Thomas. She clung to him, possessively attaching herself to Old Moneybags himself. Simon patted a hand against Thomas’s back and left, hurrying toward Jules. Their embrace sickened me, knowing what I knew about Simon now.
“Jameson,” Elizabeth whispered, stepping from Thomas’s side. “I’m really worried about Sophia.”
I turned to her, still pressing my palms against my beach-crusted hair. “What do you mean?”
“It’s obvious the poor thing is traumatized,” Thomas snarled under his breath.
I hoped, for once, he was actually supporting Soph and not being a dick. Elizabeth slowly shook her head, her eyes closing for a moment before focusing on mine.
“Where is she?” I asked, my hands dropping back to my sides.
“She’s in the car,” Elizabeth mumbled. “She wants to leave, Jameson.”
Leave? I gazed beyond Elizabeth, past Jules and Simon to where Soph sat in the backseat, her legs hanging from the opening while she watched me with her beautifully hopeless eyes. She wants to leave? I had to talk to her, hold her, something…I started walking toward Soph, my heart beating a mile a second with panic, but I froze. She climbed from the car, her eyes pulled away from me, and approached Jules and Simon.