Chapter 41
CHAPTER 41
WILLA
M y head ached, and I was desperate for a dark, quiet room and the oblivion of sleep. Who knew how long it would take us to find Sawyer in the chaos of the Founders’ Day crowd? Then we’d have to make our way back to his truck and drive all the way home. Even thinking of the effort made me want to whimper.
Maybe I could get a text out and tell him to meet us somewhere. Lifting my head, I peered into the floorboard for my purse, but it wasn’t there. Had I left it back at the cemetery? I started to ask, then I registered where we were. Roland was driving northwest across the island, in the exact opposite direction from Sutter’s Ferry.
“Where are we going? This isn’t the way to town.”
He flashed a kind smile. “You’re still pretty shaken up. I thought it would be beneficial to go somewhere quiet for a little bit, so you have a chance to reset before you have to deal with the rest of the Founders’ Day stuff.”
“We’re gonna miss the parade.” We’d already been late.
His shoulders twitched in a dismissive shrug. “Miles will get over it.”
On the surface, his logic was sound. It was a kind and accommodating offer. It wasn’t as if I wanted to go back for the parade in my current shape. But something didn’t feel right. I wondered if it was my own paranoia in the wake of the flashback. Then he took another turn, onto a familiar road leading to the Atlantic side of the island.
“Are you taking me to Osprey Beach?” My voice came out admirably calm, considering that my heart was picking up speed again.
“Yeah, everybody on the island is down in the village, so that’ll be nice and quiet for you. Peaceful.”
There was nothing wrong with anything he’d said, but my inner alarms were clanging. Maybe it was simply that my beta blocker had worn off. There was nothing to counter my natural reaction to coming here.
You made it through that entire failed memory retrieval attempt. You can make it through this. He’s just looking out for you, same as he’s done since Granddaddy died.
But there were other places he could have taken me that were closer and still quiet, away from people. Why Osprey Beach?
As we neared the beach, he looked over, his brow furrowed. “Is your headache getting worse?”
I hadn’t said anything about having a headache. Of course, I absolutely had one, and maybe that was obvious. But he wasn’t a doctor, and somehow, he seemed way too interested in the answer to the question.
The closer we got to the beach, the faster the panic rose. I gripped my fingers together so tight, the knuckles turned bone white. I tried to hold it together. Tried to breathe through the fear. But it was too much.
“Turn around,” I whispered.
He cast another worried look from across the car. “Are you okay?”
“No, I can’t go here. Please turn around.”
He didn’t turn around, his focus more on me than the road. “Why? What’s wrong?”
“Please.” The word came out more as a wheeze now. I pressed a hand to my chest, willing it to loosen.
His face lightened with dawning realization. “I guess it’s hard for you to come here after what happened that night.”
Fresh on the heels of the flashback, my blood chilled. “What are you talking about?” I struggled to maintain any sort of cool.
“Where you drowned. It was somewhere over this way, wasn’t it?”
Something in his gaze was all wrong. His features were set in a mask of concern, but I wasn’t buying it. Every inner alarm I had was blaring not safe. I had to find a way out of this car.
He kept staring at me, as if he expected to see… something. As I stared back, he finally sighed in obvious disappointment. “It doesn’t work anymore. I should have known it would wear off eventually.”
I shook my head, not understanding. “What doesn’t work anymore?”
His hands tightened on the wheel, the leather beneath his fingers creaking from his grip. “Your conditioning.”
“My… what?” What the hell was he talking about?
Roland continued as if I hadn’t spoken. “You remember, don’t you?”
“Remember what?” But I knew. Because I had remembered—at least part of it. My brain was busy peeling away the years. Roland had been a classmate of my mother’s. He wasn’t as old as I’d originally thought he was. Twelve years ago, he could’ve been slimmer, his hair fully dark. It could have been him on the beach that night with the gun.
“I didn’t want to do this. I never wanted you to be involved. That idiot Anderson made a mistake.” He shook his head. “But I couldn’t risk you sharing what you might have seen or heard. Then you miraculously survived, courtesy of your devoted husband to be. He clearly loved you, even then. Honestly, I was glad you survived. But without any idea what you might remember, steps had to be taken. And it’s worked so well all these years because Collin is very good at what he does. Or was.”
I struggled to process all the implications of everything he was saying. “You know my psychiatrist?”
“Knew, yes. God rest his soul. We were good friends back at Georgetown. I knew he was exactly the right person to help with my… well, your little problem. That’s why I made the suggestion to your parents. He was a memory specialist, after all.”
Oh my God. This man was the reason I’d been institutionalized for two years. And my doctor had done something to manipulate my memories, conditioning me not to remember.
But Roland assumed that I’d remembered everything. Whether I had or not, he’d revealed enough himself that it made me a threat. No way was he bringing me out here, away from everyone on the island, with any intention of letting me live.
We were nearly to Osprey Beach. No one knew where I was. I had to do… something. But what?
“I was really hoping that this would be a reset. That you would finally go back to the way things were.” He looked over at me with an avuncular affection. “I have a terrible soft spot for you, being Vicky’s daughter and Henry’s granddaughter. You’re really special, Willa. I’m sorry about this.”
He shifted in his seat as the car slowed, reaching for something inside the suit jacket it was too hot to wear.
Gun .
I didn’t stop to think, didn’t question. I opened my door and hurled myself out of the car.
I hit the shoulder of the road hard and rolled. The impact drove all the breath from my already struggling lungs, but hearing the screech of tires behind me, I scrambled to my feet and began to run toward the trees, barely registering the pain in my arm from where I’d landed.
“Willa! Don’t make this harder on yourself than it has to be!”
I didn’t answer, and when next he shouted, he’d lost the kind, gentle tone he’d always used with me.
“Damn it, girl! Come back here.”
I flinched as I heard a gunshot, and bark sprayed from a tree not two feet from where I passed. Fresh terror dumped adrenaline into my system, and I ran faster, hurling myself into the trees, dodging and weaving through underbrush. I’d have cover here. I knew this place better than anyone else on the island. The sun was already setting. If I could just stay ahead of him, lose him once it got fully dark, I could get somewhere safe.
But where? There was nothing at this end of the island but Sutter House, and it was miles from here. My only hope was to lose him in the thick of the trees and pray that Sawyer came looking for me before it was too late.