Chapter 35 #2
“I’m sorry for this,” he murmurs against my skin.
I squeeze his hand, lacing our fingers together before kissing his knuckles.
“Hey. This isn’t on you. It’s my fault for taking you there in the first place. The whole night was a total disaster.”
He pushes himself up. It takes everything he’s got. His lips leave their mark behind my ear, right where he knows it short-circuits my brain.
“Not all of it,” he whispers.
“Not all of it,” I echo, the smile lingering as I ease him across my lap.
“Get some rest, love. Sleep will help.”
My fingers find the buzz cut along the side of his head, massaging his scalp to calm him.
He lets out a couple of tired groans, the tension leaving his body. I think he knows it’s safe to let go now that I’ve got him.
“Sapphire...”
“I’m right here, love. Not going anywhere.”
Bloody hell. I didn’t think I was able to care like this anymore. But it feels good. So fucking good.
I keep stroking him, even after his eyes fall shut and his breathing evens out.
The sea is restless tonight. Waves shove at the shore like a snowball rolling in reverse, spilling forward before the ocean pulls them back again. Over and over.
I latch onto that rhythm, and before I realize what I’m doing, I start singing Ocean of Night. First song I ever wrote. The one that shoved us straight to the top.
A bitter laugh.
Back then, I’d thought I had it all figured out, that I knew who I was. What life was supposed to look like.
I didn’t have a fucking clue.
I try to trace it back. When did it all start?
Maybe that November day when Jay had dragged Calvin and Eli home with his brilliant idea of starting a band. They needed someone to play the guitar, and I already knew my way around the violin after that summer travelling with Uncle Ian and his clan.
No one cared I was still in primary school, and I thought that was the coolest thing in the world.
I was cool, hanging around with my older brother and his mates.
Life was simple. We had no money, our first instruments prehistoric hand-me-downs from the church. I didn’t care. I was happy.
Touching that broken guitar had set everything in motion. One thing tumbling into the next, unstoppable, until it led me here. To a deserted Caribbean beach, holding someone I care about more than I ever thought my broken heart would ever allow.
For the first time since the day Cal and Eli had stumbled into our kitchen, something warm settles in my chest.
Things aren’t good, not even close.
But I get it now.
Maybe this was always where I was meant to end up.
I’ve never felt the butterfly effect more clearly.
My eyes go back to Yosh. He’s twitching in my arms, mumbling something about red sand and onyx, scared, clearly having a nightmare.
“Hey, it's okay. I know this sucks, but I’m here. You’re going to be okay in the morning.”
I hold him closer, hoping our skin contact might calm him down. I do a breathing exercise he taught me in the hope he follows. And I think it works. He’s calming down.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I whisper. “I’ve got you. I’ll stay.”
I say it again, the same promise I made last time he spiralled into one of those nightmares.
Back then, hearing that I wasn't leaving pulled him out of it.
I still don’t know how it works. Only that it does, and me being able to do that hits me so hard it almost hurts.
I stay like that for a while, holding him as I sing half of my repertoire into the night.
I’m close to drifting off when something moves in the corner of my eye.
The waves roll in higher and higher, a shadow appearing where nothing should.
I know who it is before the moonlight hits her.
Emily.
She steps out of the sea, water streaming from slick hair, soaking the white dress plastered to her skin.
Her gaze is jet black, empty. That same dead stare as always.
But this time, she’s holding a gun.
Fuck me. Just when you think the night can’t get worse.
She soars over the water, and when her bare feet hit the sand, she raises the barrel. First at me. Then dipping toward Yosh who is now calm in my arms.
I pull him closer, curving my body over his to shield him from that vile thing standing in front of us.
I should be terrified, any sane person would be. But I’m not. Not anymore.
Something burns inside me, and it isn’t my usual rage. It’s cold as frost. A winter that doesn’t belong on this island.
My head tilts. A half-smile pulls at my mouth.
It clicks into place. This isn’t her. It never fucking was. It’s a mirror. My fear. My pain. Thrown back at me wearing Emily’s face.
“You don’t control me anymore.” I mean every goddamn word.
That breaks whatever hold it has over me, because suddenly she’s screaming like a banshee, loud enough it feels like my skull is splitting from the inside out.
Emily dissolves into a vortex of sand and sea spray, spinning faster and faster until she’s almost gone.
In her last seconds, she pulls the trigger.
Time stretches. I swear I see the bullet coming at me in slow motion, then it vanishes into dust, barely an inch from Yosh.
And just like that, there’s nothing but the ocean in front of us. Calm now, not the snarling mess it was before. I can even see the moon’s reflection on the water.
A piece of the silence crumbles away, years of tightness leaving my body.
For the first time in what feels like forever, my lungs fill completely.
I look down at Yosh, free of nightmares. My palm settles on his sternum, feeling the slow rise and fall of his chest.
I guess we both fought off our demons tonight.
“It’s over. She’s gone,” I whisper, fingers tracing the contours of his face. “I think for good this time.”
I lower him onto the sand, hoping he doesn’t wake. He groans softly, face scrunching before he sinks back under.
I pull off my shirt and tuck it under his head for a pillow; a elbow’s fine for me.
I’m exhausted. My eyes close on autopilot, and with the last bit of consciousness I’ve got, I send a quick prayer to whoever’s in charge up there, hoping tomorrow will be better.
One last laugh escapes me, thinking about the Gremlin in the bloody ditch.
Fucking hell. Christmas is going to be so expensive this year.