Chapter Twenty-Five

Annabelle

The dream hasn’t been bothering me for a while, although it used to almost every night. It’s amazing that the details never change.

Summer flexes its muscles, squashing my hometown in Minnesota with the kind of brutal heat I experienced at Florida State. The scorching weather also makes tempers flare. It’s almost like some kind of cosmic connection between the sky and the people. And I can feel it in the way everyone in Lincoln City looks at me. They don’t blame me for what happened, but they do think I’ve unjustly reaped the benefit of my dad’s fraud. Their resentment hits me like stones, but I keep my chin up.

They can say whatever they want, think whatever they want, but I still don’t believe it’s true. There has to be a mistake—all the things people say about my dad.

My only worry is Nonny. She’s only thirteen. She can’t cope with her classmates shunning her or the way she’s suddenly been disinvited to all the parties and sleepovers.

I’m still shaking that Susan Lexington’s mom told Nonny she had to go home because she isn’t welcome anymore. What a bitch.

“I’m sorry,” Nonny says, her voice small, as I drive back home.

“It’s not your fault.” I don’t call Mrs. Lexington names out loud. Nonny’s still too young for that kind of stuff.

“Do you think it’s true? What people say?”

“No,” I say decisively. “No way.”

“But everyone says Dad was running a Ponzi scheme.”

“That’s what nasty rich Wall Street guys do, not Dad. Only thing he did is try to help people in town make money so they could save for their retirements or their kids’ college and stuff like that.”

“But…”

“The whole economy is awful right now, and it’s been slow to recover.” I look over to see how much she’s understanding. “Even a professional investment company would’ve lost money. People just want to blame Dad for bad timing.” I take a deep breath. “Listen, Nonny. Dad’s a great guy, super smart too. But how could he trick everyone in town? That doesn’t make any sense, right? I mean, it’s not like everyone else is too dumb to figure it out if it’s really a fraud.”

She thinks that over. “I guess.”

“He even has a partner. Are they saying that Mr. Smith is too stupid to figure it out too? He went to Dartmouth, which is a really good school.”

She nods.

“I’m telling you, it’s all bull.” I let out a rough breath. “Once the truth comes out, people are going to be sorry they were mean to us. You’ll see.”

“Okay.”

Even as she says that, I know she’s unsure. She’s only thirteen. To her, being accepted and liked right now is more important than some future apology from the people around us.

I park my car in the driveway. As Nonny and I walk toward the three-story brick house with a cheery yellow roof, I can hear loud, angry voices coming from our home.

Mom and Dad didn’t used to fight, but now they argue all the time. Nonny stiffens, but I force a smile for her sake. “Come on.”

I open the door and yell out, “We’re home!”

Instantly the yelling stops. Mom comes out, her hands beautifully manicured and soft. I have her eyes and nose, but Dad’s mouth and brow.

“Why don’t you go up and change? I’m making pot roast for dinner,” she says with a labored smile.

Nonny’s shoulders sag with visible relief that the fight’s over. I’m worried about my parents. I don’t want to see them fight either, but I don’t know what to say.

Nonny and I go upstairs. “When are they going to stop?” she asks as she drops her duffel bag in her bedroom.

“Probably soon.” As soon as Dad’s name gets cleared, I’m sure. Mom can’t stand the scrutiny and social condemnation. She’s used to having a full calendar, stuffed with charity events, lunches and dinners. Beautiful and vivacious, she’s always been the center of Lincoln City’s social scene.

“I heard that they’re going to divorce,” my sister whispers.

“Nope. Never going to happen.” I crouch in front of her. “Don’t listen to what everyone says.” Despite my calm words, apprehension slithers over me like rancid oil. Mom and Dad are terrible at hiding things from me. I could always guess what they got for my birthday and Christmas.

Loud yelling comes from the yard. Startled, I jump to my feet. It’s the voice of my dad’s partner in the investment company.

“It’s all your fault, you fucking bastard!” he screams, his words slurred. He almost sounds drunk.

Dad says something back, but it’s hard to make out with the other man’s ranting.

Pop pop pop.

I jump at the deafening cracks. My heart pounds. They sound like gunshots, but—

Nonny’s hands clutch me. “Anna!”

“Shh…” I soothe her and take a quick peek at the front yard. My blood turns to ice. Dad’s on the lawn, something red pooling around him.

There’s a shriek, then the door bangs open and Mom rushes out. The gun swings toward her.

No!

I grab Nonny and cover her ears with my hands as though that can block out the horrible sound.

Pop pop pop!

My entire body shakes, and I hug Nonny tightly and get on my knees. My instincts are split—call for help, or keep Nonny safe? What if we’re next? Oh my god!

Another bang reverberates the air. My shoulders snap up around my ears. I clench my teeth to contain a scream. Nonny opens her mouth, and I shove a palm over it.

No, no, no! Please…!

I breathe roughly. The air is too thick, and it smells metallic and ugly. I can’t hear anything over the thumping of my heart.

No, no! Don’t hurt my sister! Leave us alone!

Suddenly my wrists are bound, and I can’t move. Nonny’s gone. To where, I don’t know.

“No!” I scream. “Please! Not my sister!”

But I’m too weak. No matter how hard I look, I can’t find her—it’s too dark.

They asked for it, murmurs rise around me. Got what they deserved.

A crippling pain guts me. Grief and sorrow crescendo, and I drown in a sea of anguish.

* * *

Elliot

“Wake up,” I say, keeping my voice calm but firm.

My wife struggles, her hands clenched into fists. Tears start to flow freely down her cheeks. Her chest shudders, and my hair stands at the sound she makes, one of the keenest sorrow like something infinitely precious has been ripped from her.

“Hey, wake up,” I say again. “You’re okay, beautiful. You’re safe.”

My internal clock tells me it’s after three. I fell asleep, wrapped around her, only to be jerked out of slumber when she started thrashing.

“No!”

Jesus. I turn on the bedside lamp. “Hey.” I jostle her gently. “Wake up!”

“Please! Not my sister!”

Terror contorts her face until it’s a mask of abject horror. Her hair sticks to her sweaty skin. Okay, enough. I shake her a little harder.

Her eyes open, but they look right through me. Tremors run through my wife’s body, and I grip her hard, trying to anchor her in reality.

“I got you, beautiful,” I say. “I got you.”

She blinks, and her eyes finally focus. “Elliot?”

“Yes. You’re okay.” Then I quickly add, “Nonny’s fine.”

A huge breath heaves out of her, and she goes limp. “Thank god.”

I rub my thumbs over her cheeks, streaking the tears. She blinks up at me, her eyes wide. It’s as though she didn’t even realize she was crying.

“I couldn’t save them,” she whispers, her voice broken. “I couldn’t do anything.”

“It was just a dream.”

“No. It’s more.”

The wooden flatness of her voice makes my chest ache. I’ve seen her devotion to her sister, and know the sacrifices she’s made to ensure she gives her sister the best life possible. The nightmare must’ve been harrowing to touch on that. She’s so far away, someplace I can’t quite reach. She’s actually slightly clammy to the touch.

A compulsion I don’t quite understand urges me to make it right. Make her feel safe and protected.

“Shhh…” I whisper, kissing her on the forehead. I rub my cheek against hers, offering her comfort that I can’t give with words. I’m not a poetic guy. If it can’t be done with action, I don’t do it at all.

She tilts her head, angling so our mouths touch. I go still. She’s in a vulnerable state, and I don’t want to misinterpret and take advantage.

Her hand grips the back of my neck and pulls me closer. “Please…” Her breath fans against my lips.

I let her lead, unsure of exactly what she needs—and wants—from me. I’ve never dealt with a woman after a particularly nasty nightmare, so I’m actually in uncharted territory here. It’s an odd feeling.

She strokes my mouth with her velvety tongue. I meet her halfway, then more as she drags me deeper into an endless kiss. Her mouth is a treasure—infinitely tender, sweet and seeking. When I kiss her I feel like I’m a sailor lost at sea, storm-tossed and clinging to the only bit of flotsam that can save me. Her scent, her taste and her softness are overwhelming, and yet I wouldn’t change a thing.

I lose all track of time as we kiss. Desire starts to simmer in my blood. She shifts without breaking the kiss. Her delicate hand slips between our bodies and wraps around my swollen dick.

Her pupils are dark and wide, so dilated that I can barely see the green rings around them. She spreads her legs and guides me to her slick heat.

I pull back. It would be so easy to glide into her without the barrier of a condom, but somebody’s got to be responsible. None of us wants to risk pregnancy—something that would jeopardize our plan to end this arrangement after a year.

I reach into the drawer for a packet. And once I’m fully sheathed, I slide slowly into her.

Her chest rises and falls in a sharp inhale and exhale. Her legs wrap around my waist, her heels digging into the upper swell of my ass. I cradle her face with both of my hands while dragging my cock back and forth along her swollen pussy.

The pace I set is slow and easy. I want her warm, the terror gone from her mind. I want her crying out my name when she comes.

Pleasure clouds her eyes. Her nails dig into my back. Her breaths come out in pants that match my rhythm. The urge to race her to orgasm is definitely there, but I pull it back.

“My god…” she whimpers.

“Not god, beautiful. Just me inside you,” I whisper. “You’re safe.”

Something I can’t quite figure out crosses her face. Red flush tints her cheeks, and this time a very different kind of sweat coats her heated skin. “Please…”

For a split second I think she’s about to say my name, but then a climax spirals over her. She squeezes her eyes shut and clenches her teeth. Her back arches, every muscle in her body going rigid.

The tight grip of her pussy around my dick finally tips it for me, sending me crashing over into orgasm. My breath gusts over her, but the usual satisfaction of good sex doesn’t wash through me.

The odd sensation that’s been bugging me since earlier tonight returns with a vengeance. And I finally realize…

She swallowed my name when she came.