Beach cottage my ass. I leaned against my bedroom door as it clicked closed behind me. Six bedrooms, eight bathrooms, two living areas, a study, an enormous kitchen, not to mention the outdoor kitchen and showers, the pool, cabana, and the steps that led directly to the beach. I could barely even begin to fathom that this was someone’s summer home, a place that was empty more often than not. What a waste.
As a positive, it would be almost impossible to get cornered in this place. Multiple exits on the first floor, all the windows easily accessible, and four of the bedrooms on the second floor all had balconies. Now that I had the whole place mapped out I felt a smidge more comfortable, then again . . . I wandered over to the French doors and peered out. Down below me Gavin and his friends were taking advantage of the pool and early summer sun.
Other than work, and my failed attempt at college, I’d never needed to socialize with so many people at the same time. Really have conversations with them. And how was that even possible when the amount of things I could divulge about my past could fit in the palm of my hand? Normally I’d just lie, throw out random stories to fend off a stranger’s curiosity, but with Gavin’s friends . . .
I rubbed a hand across my forehead and reached for my duffel. I’d managed to find a cheap black bikini on clearance—another withdrawal from my meager savings. I slipped it on and cautiously approached the bathroom mirror. My hand skimmed across my collarbone where it sharply jutted up from underneath my skin, down over my side to my hip. There was some muscle there, but I was more skin and bones than anything else.
I cringed when my fingertips coasted over my scar. There wasn’t any hiding that monstrosity in a bikini. It wasn’t that I cared what it looked like—hell, I was just ecstatic I’d survived and my dad was handy with a needle—but more that anyone who saw it couldn’t help but ask. And really there was no casual way to drop into conversation that you’d been shot and nearly bled out.
My fingers closed over the penny hanging against my chest. Chlorine might end up damaging the cord it was strung on, but that was replaceable. The rest absolutely wasn’t. I’d never taken it off before, and I wasn’t going to start then.
After folding my clothes and placing them in my bag, I snagged a towel from the bathroom and headed outside. A screech and a splash was the first thing that greeted me outside. The blonde—the actress—swiped water out of her face and dove toward Gavin, shoving his head underwater. From the other end of the pool the guy who belonged with her wiped water from his face while laughing at their antics.
“You can take him, Jules!” One of the other guys shouted, the one with the vibrant tattoos creeping up his right arm.
Sooner rather than later I’d need to learn their names.
More laughter ensued when the tattooed guy stalked toward one of the two girls on the sidelines—the brunette from the bar—Rachel. She scooted back on her lounger, her cover-up bunching around her. “Get away from me, Ian.” She pointed her finger at him.
He just grinned.
“Ian I swear to—” She squealed as he scooped her up and jumped right in the damn pool with her.
In all the commotion, no one noticed my arrival. They didn’t notice me leaving either. I could fake it with the best of them, but there was something so genuine, so heartwarming about that scene that I just couldn’t interrupt it with the perpetual black cloud that always hovered above my head.
With a wistful smile I dropped my towel at the top of the steps and scurried down them. Beach grass waved in the gentle breeze and for a good minute I just stood there—toes in the sand, the salty air teasing my nose, the sun warming my skin. I could still hear their laughter behind me, but now it was mostly drowned out by the crash of the waves against the shore. They called to me, whispering an invitation that had my feet moving forward.
I shaded my eyes from the sun and quickly glanced both ways down the beach. Some fifty feet away a family played in the shallows, a little girl delicately building a sandcastle. They didn’t even glance in my direction as I made my way through the soft, hot sand. I stopped where the waves could gently lap at my toes, the cold water slipping between them and stealing the sand from beneath my feet.
Again, a memory tugged at my mind, urging me to pay attention. I couldn’t imagine what it could be. In all the years Dad and I had crisscrossed the country, we’d never once shacked up in a beachside town. I’d asked about it once and he’d only commented vaguely that being too close to either coast limited how many directions you could run in. Then it’d seemed like a weak excuse, now it still did.
I sank to my knees, tracing my fingertips through the wet sand. I doodled a tiny heart, taking care with its shape. It was then, as I was looking down at the water washing it away, that the present eroded with it and the past came into focus.
The memory was hazy at best. There was a tiny pink bathing suit, with ruffles over my hips, tiny, stubby toes wet and covered with sand. A voice, mine, yelling, “Mommy!” as I raced away from an incoming wave. Strong arms scooped me up, spinning me round and round till I felt dizzy. When she set me down we drew pictures in the sand, stick figures and smiling suns . . . and hearts. A kiss pressed against my temples, fingertips sweeping away salt sticky hair, and a voice so sweet and soft, “We did it, Doodle Bug.”
It went almost as quickly as it came, but when it left I was shaking, cold where I’d once been hot. My eyes burned and a crushing weight settled on my chest. Mom. It was a word I never thought because with it came the only memory I had of her.
The one memory I’d give anything to forget.
I hugged my arms tighter around myself. Had it been real? That trip to the beach? I wracked my brain but no other details emerged. It seemed surreal, like a memory I’d borrowed from someone else’s mind. But there was that nickname. And what had she meant? What had we done?
“Dani.” A shadow joined mine, too big to be Gavin’s.
I resisted the urge to flinch at his sudden appearance, stepping back so I could look up at him. And I really did need to look up. It was the ass from the bar, though I couldn’t for the life of me remember his name. “I don’t think we’ve officially met.”
His gaze swept me from head to toe, his eyes narrowing as they came back up to meet mine. “I wasn’t sure you were sticking around long enough for that to be necessary.”
My fingers bit into my skin as they tightened around my hips. “I’m not looking for your life story, just a name.”
“Ben.”
“Well, Ben, is there something you need?”
“What I need is to know what the hell you think you’re doing.” He turned to face me and shook his head. “What game are you playing here?”
Anger curdled in my stomach, making me flush hot. “I don’t know what—”
He stepped toward me. “That’s right, you don’t know. But I do. I know what you did to him last time, I was there. I also know you have no plans to stick around this time either. What I don’t know is what you’re getting from this.” His nostrils flared and his voice lowered. “Frankly I couldn’t care less about you. When you leave I can use the wreck you left behind to create a fucking stellar album.” He pointed a finger at me, careful not to actually touch me. “But I want to make sure that you know exactly what you’re doing. When that guy falls apart, when you break him again, it will be your fault.” His lip curled up. “Is it worth it?” He gave me another up-down, his gaze riddled with disgust.
My chin wanted to tremble, but I forced it up, my gaze as strong as ever. I wouldn’t defend myself. I wouldn’t make excuses. But hell if I was just going to sit here and take it. He’d already taken four steps before I hurled my retort at his back, “You want to talk about playing games? How about the one you’re playing with Rachel?” I smirked at him. “Is that worth it?”
His expression didn’t even waver; he stared through me like I was as inconsequential as another random grain of sand. He gestured with his chin up toward the sky. “Storm’s rolling in.” A smile snaked across his lips. “Wouldn’t want you to get caught out here in it.”