Episode 131
EPISODE 131
BOMB DROP
River
Twenty Years Earlier…
I received the signal back that the other four are on the move. My job is to man the house and make sure Old Man Larson stays out like a light.
My mind is everywhere all at once. I need to stay focused, but the fact that Seb and Jake showed up late weighs on me. Jake’s whole situation weighs on me.
Marnie is fucking pregnant.
Jake trusted only me, so far as I know, with this information. Brett doesn’t know. He was interrogating me last night about it, but it’s not my secret to tell.
Damn, Jake.
You got yourself into it this time. Ever hear of a fucking condom?
Just the one time, Riv. We got hot and horny and we forgot the condom.
Jesus fuck.
An image spears into my head then, and damned if I know where it’s coming from. Two years ago, I saved Jake from drowning. Brett tried, but I’m a stronger swimmer than he is.
We were swimming in the narrow river behind the dilapidated barn on my parents’ ranch. It was a balmy summer’s day, the kind that makes your skin sizzle under the sun—a perfect day for a refreshing swim. The surface of the water was deceptively calm. Underneath, the current was as unpredictable as a wild stallion. Jake was a late bloomer. At thirteen his voice hadn’t yet dropped and he was pretty skinny. After downing two beers, he decided to cross the river. Brett tried to dissuade him, but those two damned beers seemed to ignite something in Jake. He was bound and determined to do it.
Within a few minutes, he was struggling.
Brett tried to swim out and assist Jake, but the forceful current thwarted him. I dived in without a second thought. I was—still am—the strongest swimmer of the bunch, and every stroke I took was calculated and swift as I navigated my way through the undercurrents, aiming for a gasping and thrashing Jake.
The memory of hauling him back to the shore is so vivid—that sense of relief that washed over me as we collapsed onto the riverbank, gasping for air. My stomach churned with adrenaline, a mixture of fear and triumph. Jake was a dead weight, reviving slowly as I thumped his back to dislodge the water from his lungs. His skin was cold and clammy against mine, his face bluish-white, eyes wide and shell-shocked.
“What the hell were you thinking?” I shouted at him, my voice rough around the edges from fear. “You could’ve drowned!”
But Jake just coughed up more water and gave me a weak grin. “Didn’t think you cared that much, Riv,” he wheezed out between coughs.
Brett stood a few feet back, his expression unreadable. Brett’s expression was—and is—often unreadable.
Now Jake is in a different kind of mess. I hate keeping secrets from Brett, but I made a promise to Jake.
And I keep my promises.
Present Day…
“Fuck off, Brett.” I shrug free of my friend. “Talk, Misty. Tell us. Tell us every fucking thing, or I swear to God?—”
“Riv,” Brett interrupts. “ Please .”
I look into Brett’s blue eyes, the moonlight casting an ethereal glow over his features. He’s still carrying that torch for Jake, and in his warped mind, he’s transferred it to Misty. I’ve got news for him. Jake was far from perfect, and his alleged half-sister is a freaking psycho. I’m about to open my mouth when?—
“Screw all of you!” Misty shouts. “You’ll never understand. None of you will ever understand.” She runs into the waves and launches herself into the ocean, her body disappearing under the water.
I shake my head. Seriously? This is true drama-queen material.
The sudden silence after Misty’s departure is deafening as we all wait patiently for her to surface.
We wait.
And we wait.
Until Emily steps toward the water, her hand raised to her mouth, her eyes wide with shock. “Misty!” she screams. “Get out of there!”
But Misty doesn’t resurface.
Brett, without missing a beat, dives in after her. The waves crash around him as he battles against them.
Fuck me. I know all too well how this is going to end. Brett’s a good swimmer.
But I’m better.
And this isn’t the river on my property at home.
It’s the goddamned ocean.
Without another word, I peel off my shirt and kick off my shoes. The sand is colder than I expect beneath my bare feet.
“River!” Emily screams as I lunge forward.
In the darkness, the water hits me like a brutal slap of reality. The waves are rough and unforgiving tonight.
Ahead, Brett is struggling. He’s strong, but he’s not built for the ocean, and he’s getting tossed around by the powerful waves.
“Where is she?” Brett’s voice is desperate against the roar of the surf.
I don’t have an answer. But adrenaline surges through me with renewed vigor and I strike out farther, scanning beneath the ominous dark water for any sign of Misty.
My heart pounds in my ears as I dive deeper, every second a battle against the crushing waves and the oppressive darkness. Water fills my nose, my mouth, stinging my eyes and choking the air from my lungs.
Brett’s muffled shouts echo behind me, but I’m not thinking about him now. He may not be the swimmer I am, but he can take care of himself.
All I can focus on is Rachel.
Except it’s not Rachel. It’s Misty.
A flash of white skin under the moonlight reveals what looks like an arm, an elbow. I surge toward it, reaching out to grasp onto something.
I pull her up.
And she smiles.
She fucking smiles as the waves recede and the water calms down.
“Race you back,” she says. In an instant she’s underwater again.
Brett swims up next to me. “She okay?”
“She’s fine,” I grit out. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Got the wind knocked out of me, but I’m good.”
The three of us make it back to shore at the same time. Alex and Seb are comforting a sobbing Emily, and she breaks free and runs at us.
Straight into my arms.
I hold onto her for dear life for a moment. I want to crush her to me, kiss her plump lips, but I’m busy catching my breath.
A moment later, though, she turns on Misty. “What the bloody hell was that about? You scared the shit out of me!”
I wipe the water out of my eyes. “She’s right,” I say, still panting. “We thought you were drowning.”
Brett is tending to Misty. “I’m just glad you’re okay,” he says to her.
“Of course I am. I’m an excellent swimmer.” Misty squeezes water out of her hair. Her thin blouse is wet and leaves nothing to the imagination. Not that I care. I’ve already seen it all.
“Give yourself a goddamned medal,” I say. “Now tell us what you know.”
“I need a minute.”
“You’re out of minutes, Misty,” Seb says. “Tell us now.”
“I did ask Evie to get rid of Rachel and June, but June’s still here, and”— she coughs a few times—“I swear to God I had nothing to do with Rachel’s near drowning or any threats to her and Ginger.” Misty looks down at her feet.
Right. And I’m just that gullible. Just when I’m about to yell at her again, she looks up.
“I only know that I was adopted, that my birth mother’s name is Lisa Patterson, and that Lisa had another child, a son who would be the same age as all of you. I couldn’t find out anything else no matter how hard I tried.” She gulps then and rubs her arms. “As for Evangeline’s baby? I do know who the father is. And I know how dangerous he is. Because he’s my father, too.”
CONTINUE THE ADVENTURES IN CLAIMING YOU…