Chapter 14
FOURTEEN
“O
kay.” Tripp waited, concealing his raging anxiety.
“I’m sorry I didn’t make more of an effort to reach out and keep in touch after you were wounded. That was really shitty and selfish of me.”
Of all the things she could have said, he hadn’t expected that. “Don’t be. You were going through a lot.”
“Yeah, but that’s no excuse, because so were you. The truth is, I avoided you because the alternative hurt too much after losing Peyton. I’m not proud of that.”
It felt like one of the boulders they’d climbed had just lodged itself in his throat. He swallowed hard to clear the sudden constriction. “I get it.” Fuck, he really didn’t want to talk about this with her. It stirred up too many things.
Too many ghosts. Things he wanted to stay buried.
“Anyway, you’re doing better now?”
He could feel her studying him behind the sunglasses.
Wondered if Rafe had told her about his time in treatment.
“I am, yeah.” Mostly. Better than he had been, anyway.
Which maybe wasn’t saying a whole lot considering what a total fucking mess he’d been for most of that first year after coming home from Syria. “You?”
“Yes. I’ll always miss him, but it’s easier now. Bearable, at least most days. I guess it’s true that only time can take care of that.”
God, he hoped so. “How are your parents?”
“Okay. Mom’s still...struggling.”
He nodded, guilt coiling inside him. An invisible python ready to suffocate him if he didn’t fight it off. “Sorry to hear that.”
Willow shrugged. “It’s not your fault.”
Wasn’t it?
“She’s stuck,” she continued, “and no one can do anything more to help her. It’s up to her now, she has to decide to move forward herself.”
He heard the frustration in her voice. Winced inside. “Hard for a mother to move forward after losing her child.”
“I know. I try to be understanding, but it’s just so toxic. That’s one of the reasons I moved out here. To get some distance from it. Maybe that’s selfish too,” she said with a wry smile.
“No. You deserve to be happy.”
Her smile softened. “Thanks. So do you, by the way.”
Acutely uncomfortable, he looked away and pretended to scan the edge of the bank, locking down the torrent of guilt and the rush of memories before the floodgates could open and suck him down into the depths he’d clawed his way out of last year.
“Looks like the edge crumbled here pretty recently,” he said, stepping close to a spot just past where Rafe and Bronwyn were searching below.
Breathe. Breathe. You did what you had to. If you had to go back and do it all over again, you would do the same thing.
Maybe, but it still cut him to the bone. And it was a thousand times harder to confront the truth with Willow standing just ten feet away. “If there was a grave here, it’s possible the contents fell onto the rocks or into the water.”
She came closer, made a sound of agreement as Rufus sniffed at something interesting in a thick tuft of grass rippling in the breeze.
“There are still some little mounds and depressions up here. I’m not sure if they’re graves.
Maybe Bronwyn should have a look later, she might be able to tell us.
” She pulled out her phone and took some pictures of the area as Rufus walked up and nudged her leg with his nose, looking up at her.
“He sure is attached to you.”
She smiled down at the dog and scratched the top of his head. “I’m pretty attached to him too. He’s been through so much, and he’s a real sweetheart inside. Are you my pal, handsome boy? Yes, you are.”
Rufus wagged his tail gently, ears cocked and his gaze full of adoration.
Tripp understood completely.
“Let’s take a look down that way,” Willow said, gesturing in the opposite direction.
He stayed beside her, pushing the darker thoughts away and forcing himself to focus on the here and now. He’d never expected Willow to come back into his life. Every moment he got with her was a gift. He would cherish this time even if it meant doing something that made him uncomfortable.
Like now.
They searched the area for another ten minutes without spotting anything of interest. “Should we head back down?” she asked.
He nodded and walked back to the spot where they’d climbed up the rocks.
“I’ll go first.” He started down, stopped below her when she began her descent, watching her closely to make sure she didn’t slip.
Partway down she let Rufus’s leash go, and he scrambled down easily the rest of the way to the beach.
“Anything up there?” Bronwyn called up.
“No,” Willow answered, picking her way down.
When Tripp reached the bottom, he reached up a hand for her and felt a physical jolt in his gut when their skin made contact. He couldn’t resist curling a steadying hand around the indent of her waist to help her down the final few feet to ground level.
Even that innocent contact triggered a chemical reaction, his attraction to her as intense as ever.
Then she turned to face him, and a rush of desire flared in his gut. She was so close, their faces just inches apart, the wind swirling her sweet scent around him.
He was transported back in time to her final night on the island four years ago. To the hug that had teetered on the cusp of so much more. The unbearable desire humming between them as they’d stared deep into each other’s eyes on this same beach.
How he’d found the strength not to give into that tide of need and kiss her, he’d never know.
Except she’d been drunk. He’d been half-drunk himself, but even then some instinct had warned him it would change the trajectory of both their lives.
That if they’d crossed the line that night, she might have wound up staying and not followed her dreams to New York.
He hadn’t wanted to stand in her way. So he’d let her go. And lived with that decision ever since.
Did she still think about it too? Ever wonder what might have been if they’d acted on it?
“Thanks.” She edged to the side and brushed off her knees. Paused, her attention on something behind him.
Tripp turned around in time to see Rufus pawing at something in the rocks to their left.
Oh no.
“What’s he got?” Rafe asked from down the beach as Willow moved toward him.
“You see anything?” Bronwyn called out.
Foreboding filled him. An ominous sense of impending disaster.
“I think... Yep. Rufus, let me in there.” Willow gently pushed the dog away and crouched down to reach into a crevice in the rocks while he stayed glued to her side, ears up, tail wagging furiously.
She pulled something out with her right hand. Turned and held it out for the rest of them to see. “That sure looks like bone to me.”
The earlier foreboding transformed into dread.
He and Rafe moved closer as Bronwyn took it from her. “Yep. That’s the distal third of the tibia we were looking for.” She turned to Rafe. “Did you bring the—”
Rafe shrugged his backpack off, unzipped the largest pocket and withdrew a long bone in a Ziploc. “Here.”
Bronwyn took out the bone and expertly fitted the two pieces together in less than two seconds. “There. Perfect fit.” She held it out, showing where the fractured ends lined up like the pieces of a jigsaw. “Probably broke when it hit the rocks.” She handed them back to Rafe. “Now what?”
He sealed them both back into the bag. “We keep looking.”
Tripp withheld a groan but didn’t argue. He didn’t dare.
All of this felt like a bad omen. As if all the dark secrets of his past were about to be exposed, just like this bone.
He’d already seen more dead bodies and bones than anyone should. He wanted it all to stay buried, including this.
Because digging it back up would only cause more pain and suffering.
From his perch high atop a cliff above them, Earl stared down at the small group wandering along the beach down in Shipwreck Cove.
So. Willow really was back. He’d heard she’d moved into her grandma’s place recently, but hadn’t seen her until now.
It had been four years since he’d last seen her. Not since Carson’s funeral. He regretted not going to Peyton’s, to give his respect to the family and be there to support Willow. Just one of many he carried with him.
She and the others were searching the beach for something. Her and a dog, the new sheriff, a young woman Earl had never seen before...and Tripp Rawlings.
His mouth thinned at the sight of him. Did Willow know the truth? No. There was no way she would, or she wouldn’t be down there with him right now.
The dog had found something in the rocks. The others gathered around to look as Willow pulled it out.
Given that the sheriff was involved, Earl had a pretty good idea of what it was.
He lowered his binos, mentally compiling everything to include in his log once he got back to the RV. But he’d seen enough.
He and Tripp might have their own issues, but they were also bound together by certain events in their pasts. This wouldn’t end well, and Tripp had to know as well as he did.
Trouble was brewing on the island. And not just because Willow’s group had found what they’d been looking for.
He watched them for another minute before turning around and walking back to where he’d left his car parked out of sight. A familiar heaviness settled in his chest. An ominous weight that warned bad things were about to happen.
The fuse had been lit. The clock was ticking, and it was only a matter of time before the bomb went off.
The question was when, and who would be caught in the blast radius.