CHAPTER 30
Dusk is falling by the time we reach our destination.
Gravel crunches under the tires as Jake turns into the lot, parking in one of the spots at the far edge of the circle of light cast by the registration office.
As I stir, he puts his hand on my arm, shaking it gently, catching me before I slip back into sleep.
“Cassie, wake up.”
“Huh?”
“I think we’re here.”
I startle, straightening up in my seat, now fully awake as his words register. I stare at the small building, then to the property beyond. “What? This place?”
He gives me a wry smile. “I don’t know if this is Julian’s idea of a joke, or if he’s a genius.”
“Well, it just might be the last place anyone would think to look for us.” Squinting through the window, I stare at the rows of campers visible beyond the gate. “Do you think we’ll be staying in one of those?”
“I don’t know. I’ll go find out.”
I let loose a massive yawn as the car door closes behind him, feeling guilty that I fell asleep, leaving Jake the task of navigating alone. I feel even worse that I never got the answers I needed from him, despite suspecting that I already knew what they’d be.
But even if my suspicions are true, that doesn’t mean that Jake’s plan won’t work. It’s entirely possible that emptying his mother’s bank account will be enough to cut off her reach outside the walls of her cell. Even if it’s not, that’s going to have to be a problem for another day.
All I want right now is to clean up and rest and enjoy some time with the man I love. Maybe I can even trick myself into believing this is just a vacation, like normal couples have. Don’t we deserve that much? The light clicks on as the door opens. Jake’s back already.
“That was quick. So what’s the verdict?” I ask, hoping my dreams of a long, hot shower in a space bigger than a toolbox aren’t going to be dashed.
Jake doesn’t answer, just grins as he slips behind the wheel.
“What?”
He shakes his head, still smiling as he starts the engine and puts the car in gear.
“Seriously. What?”
“You’ll see soon enough.”
I look curiously out the window as he punches in the code to the gate. It swings open and we drive through, moving at a slow crawl as we make our way down a narrow one-way lane lined with RVs and travel trailers.
The campground is clean and well-tended. The aroma of grilled meat mixed with the brine of the ocean drifts inside the car. And as I spot a series of vacation bungalows off to the side, I feel a rush of relief.
But Jake doesn’t even look toward the small buildings as he drives down the gravel road past them. I glance at him, forcing down a million questions. Tell myself to have patience, though my hands tighten on my knees as we continue forward. Then, as we round a curve, the ocean comes into view.
I’m knocked almost breathless. Though I grew up only a handful of hours away, I’ve never been to the Keys before. I left Gator Glade before I was old enough for Butch to approve of me taking road trips that long without him.
Though I’d resented it as a teenager, as strange as it might seem, I feel grateful now, because the best way to describe what I’m seeing is stunning. Everything my gaze settles on is memorable. And I’m glad that I’m experiencing it for the first time, making these memories, with Jake.
The long shadows of dusk can’t conceal the beauty of the gemstone-colored sea. Palm trees are darkened silhouettes. A group of pelicans fly in an arrow formation across a sky painted cotton candy colors by the sunset. It looks like something from a dream—a good one, for once.
Jake stops the car and kills the engine. Covers my hand, wrapped around his arm, and squeezes. I hadn’t even realized I’d grabbed onto him.
“Do you like it?”
“I love it.”
“Remind me to thank Julian when we get back.”
“It’s amazing. I could look at this view forever. If you can’t find me tomorrow morning, this is where I’ll be.”
“You don’t have to wait until tomorrow.”
“Mmm. Priorities. If I don’t take a shower soon, the CDC is going to come quarantine me.”
“You might be able to see it from the bathroom. I don’t know where the windows are, but we’ll find out soon enough.”
“Wait, we’re staying here?”
I tear my attention from the sea and turn it to the building we’re parked beside.
“Yes.”
“Isn’t that a clubhouse or something?”
“It’s their honeymoon suite.”
“Are you kidding?”
“Not at all.”
“Oh, you owe Julian a very big thank you.”
I hop out of the car, but as I gain my feet, I discover the surge of energy I felt from excitement doesn’t extend to my body. I catch myself on the door as I stumble, my legs threatening to give out.
“Whoa. Hey.”
Jake hurries around to my side and scoops me up in his arms.
Eyeing the steps that lead inside, I say, “I can walk. I just need a moment.”
“Honeymoon suite, remember?”
A lump lodges in my throat as he carries me toward the front, which I can now see is a solid wall of opaque glass.
This place is unbelievable. Gorgeous. Magical.
Romantic. And here I am feeling like a pile of matted fur that baked in the sun for days before being scraped off the side of the road and not looking much better.
As if he can read my mind, Jake says, “You need a hot shower and a good night’s sleep. We have a long day tomorrow.”
“But—”
“Tomorrow,” he says, handing me the keys so I can unlock the door. My relief and disappointment collide as he carries me over the threshold and I see the inside, where the view is no less breathtaking.
As soon as he sets me down, I find myself drawn to the glass wall, still entranced by the view.
Jake follows, wrapping his arms around me.
Leaning back against him, I release a happy sigh.
We watch in silence as the sun sinks below the horizon and the night sky darkens. Then I look up at him and smile.
“Go start the water. I’ll bring the toiletries in first so you’ll have what you need.”
I grab his arm as he releases me to keep him from leaving.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
“Yeah. I just wanted to say thank you. For everything. I’m really glad that we’re here together.”
“Me too.”
My eyes stay on him while he returns to the car as I try to fix this memory—this man, this place, this feeling—in my mind forever. Then I force myself to turn away.
I’m going to do my best to enjoy our time here. To not do the me thing and get trapped inside my head amid the dark thoughts. But I can’t let my guard down, either, not even for a second.
Because there’s danger out there in the darkness, lying in wait. I can feel it. No matter how much I want to pretend, I can’t. It’s a lesson I’ve learned too many times the hard way—bad things happen, even in the places you’d least expect them to.