Page 80 of These Rough Waters

“My parents died, and I had a trust fund set up but after the funeral I’d found out that one of the terms of this relationship was that it would be signed over to Trevor. So, when they died so did any funds I had. I didn’t go to college and had no skills, not that Trevor would have allowed me to work. I was raised and trained to become an obedient wife.”

I pick at the skin on the edges of my nails as I continue, hating having to tell this story. The story slices through me with every word I say.

“When I was nineteen, I fell pregnant with Harper. For the last eight years I’ve just been trying to survive. I was scared to leave, scared of what he would do to me and to her, but then he almost killed me, and I realized that if he had succeeded Harper would have been next. And if he didn’t kill her too, she would have ended up just like me. I didn’t want that to happen.”

“So now he’s looking for you?” It’s Rett who asks the question since Torin is deathly still, eyes a little manic.

“Trevor was dangerous in more ways than one, I think his father is too, though I never got any proof.”

“Dangerous how?”

“A part of a criminal organization or society or something,” I say, “I don’t know, I never found proof but both Trevor and his father had a lot of men working for him. There were corporate staff and then there wereothers.”

Silence falls around the table until I suddenly hear Torin’s gravelly tone, edged in sharp violence and yet spoken in such a calm tone it reminded me of the sea right before a storm is going to hit. When it looks still and calm, serene almost, forcing you to believe it was safe until the clouds roll in and the wind picks up, turning that tranquil water into something deadly and violent.

And all he says is, “I’m going to kill him.”

Thirty-eight

Her hand trembles on top of the table, vibrating the cooling liquid inside the mug she hasn’t touched since she started to tell her story.

“He always promised that he’d find me and kill me if I ever left him.” She whispers, “I knew it was true, but I didn’t expect them to find me so soon. I, um…” she pauses, glancing to me but not in fear after what I had just declared. But in regret almost, like she was guilty of something.

“You what?” Rett presses and I glare at him. He just shrugs.

“I stole a lot of money from him. He keeps cash in the house, and I knew he’d trace me if I used ID or my bank.”

“That’s why you used my boat,” I realize. If she’d gone on the ferry, they would have requested ID for both her and Harper.

She nods. “I didn’t have a choice. I had no idea which island you were going to, I just had to hope it was one of them.”

“Fuck,” my temper snaps. This girl has been going through it for nine fucking years.NINE YEARS!Every single person failed her. I abruptly stand, feeling far too volatile to stay in one position. The chair thuds on the marble flooring as it falls back, and I begin to pace the length of my kitchen.

“I don’t know how they found me,” She says, staring down at the table, “I haven’t used any of my old accounts and I’ve made sure I’m not on any systems or online. Maybe we’re wrong and the break in last night was just that, a break in. They happen all the time.”

“Not in Ravenpeak Bay, Maya,” Rett says, “The men weren’t from the island, and I can’t see anyone going out of their way to come to a tiny island in the hopes of making a quick buck. It doesn’t make sense.”

“Maybe they were looking for the woman who lived there before me?” She’s clutching at straws here, denying what she knew as fact, but it doesn’t stop me from stiffening at her insinuation, “They weren’t looking for her.” I say, glancing at Rett.

“I know she died,” she keeps going, “But maybe they don’t know that. Maybe they think she still lives there!”

“Maya, they weren’t looking for her,” I say again.

“How can you know that?”

“Despite the fact that she knew no one from the mainland?” I sigh, knowing it was time, “I was married to her.”

It’s Maya’s turn to go still. “You’re married!?”

“No, I’m widowed.”

She swallows, eyes wide on my face, “Grace died five years ago, along with our three-year-old son.”

“I’m living in your wife’s cabin!” Maya gasps.

“Maya,” I warn, seeing the panic rising in her face.

“I’m so sorry,” She abruptly stands, “I didn’t know. I never would have – if I had known!” She rambles, “I’ll move. I didn’t know!”

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