Page 19 of Fire Island
The lamp, in all its shimmering glory, oscillates on her axis like the queen she is. The heart of this lighthouse. The last connection I have to Cal. The one thing he had to ground his life and give him meaning over the last twenty painful years.
She swings around, shining right through me.
Sometimes, the queen must be sacrificed to save the maiden. One life for another.
One soul for another.
What about the vessels relying on her tonight? If they run aground and people are in jeopardy because of me?
No. Evie.
I can’t think like that.
Besides, not anymore. Technology and safety protocols would make it unlikely...
I drop back to the floor, scrambling toward the maintenance cupboard. I fling it open and hunt for the heaviest, longest thing I can find. The thing that will do the most damage. May as well keep it after, too, in case I need to defend myself.
I pull out bunches of rags and brushes.
Nope.
Tossing the contents of the cupboard behind me, I send my bound hands into the dim cavity, hunting for whatever is left inside.
My fingers brush over a tin surface.
Hope blooms like a forest flower after much-needed rain. I grab a small handle, sliding the box forward. A toolbox.
Yes!
Oh my god, yes.
I flip the lid open. To my delight, a host of heavy metal tools sit in the bottom. Screwdrivers, pliers, and... a wrench.
A long, heavy, solid wrench.
Perfect.
Shoving the cupboard contents back and shutting the door, I stand, shielding my eyes as the lamp swings back round, the wrench firmly gripped with both hands.
Lowering my hands, I shift on my feet.
I can do this.
I can smash the last piece of the man I love to smithereens.
To save myself.
He would be telling me to do it. If he was here, he would growl,“Do it already, mo nighean. What are you waiting for?”
That thought has me caving in on myself. God, I miss him.
And . . . I can’t do it.
I can’t.
Sinking to the floor, I cradle the tool to my chest. Tears burn and swell. I let them fall, rocking on my seat. The lamp turns overhead, never wavering.
I hide my face in my hands, letting the wrench clatter to the floor.
