Chapter Seventeen
—NOA
I haven’t heard from my uncle since his initial call.
We have no idea who was found on Rum Runner Island, but earlier today, there were murmurs of a police cruiser parked out in front of the resort.
Does that mean it was someone from the Collective on that island?
If so… this story is going to blow up. As of now, there isn’t a single mention of a body or the Starline Hotel on any of the news outlets.
And we still have no idea who shot at us.
The sun has set and the bonfire is crackling to life in the sand. Music plays from Shawn’s small speaker near the coolers while silhouettes of other Chasers and locals from Cape Hope roam around me.
But I’m feeling lost and apart from it all.
I can’t believe detectives came to the Surf Shack today looking for my brother. Could it really be a coincidence? Could Ellis have come home and not told me or my father? Why would he do that? More importantly, where is he?
I glance at Shawn, her baseball hat low as she uses her beer can as a prop to tell an animated story to Nina, a fellow Chaser who works at the front desk of the Augustus Resort.
When I told Shawn and Tech about the detectives, they said not to take them at their word.
That I would know if Ellis was in town. They told me to be happy that the news today was good—meaning my brother wasn’t the one dead in the marsh.
We’re a superstitious town, and you never want to miss being grateful, otherwise the universe will make you regret it.
The lights of an approaching boat shine along the water.
I can tell immediately it’s not one of ours.
I feel myself smile slightly, and stand up from where I was sitting next to the fire.
That is definitely Jamie’s boat—still pulling a bit to the left.
It appears he got my message. Now I just have to see if he kept quiet about today.
Plus I want to make sure he’s all right.
As he guides his boat toward the dock, Tech jogs over to meet him.
Jamie tosses him a coil of rope, and when he does, I can see the huge bandage around his left arm.
I’m struck with guilt, although I certainly didn’t force him on our adventure to the Starline Hotel.
Still, I feel responsible. It was our dangerous and reckless plan. He was just collateral damage.
As Tech ties the rope to the wooden pile, I walk by Shawn and tap her shoulder. She tells Nina she’ll talk to her later, and then she joins me on the dock.
As Jamie hops off the side of his boat, Shawn lets out a low whistle.
“How many?” she asks, checking over his bandage.
“Twelve stitches,” he says, sounding almost proud.
“We’re a terrible influence,” Shawn murmurs to me, and I snort a laugh.
The four of us exchange a look, knowing we have to talk, and we move off to a private side of the fire, but still close enough to not look suspicious. I’ve already discussed things with Shawn and Tech, but none of us have any idea what Jamie is thinking at this point.
“Did they figure out who it was?” Jamie asks in a hushed voice. “The body in the marsh?”
“It wasn’t Ellis,” I confirm, and he nods that he’s grateful to hear. “But they haven’t released the identity yet.”
“There hasn’t been anything on the news,” he replies. “So I’m assuming they’re waiting to notify the family before making any announcements about the Starline. What did the sheriff say about all this? Does he know who shot at us? Because they probably killed whoever’s on the island.”
I hum out a sound. When Jamie looks at me quizzically, I shrug with frustration. “We told the sheriff everything,” I say. “But he made us swear to keep it quiet for now. He was pretty adamant. He doesn’t want anyone to know that we were there at all.”
“What?” Jamie says loudly, and then he checks to make sure no one else heard him before leaning toward us.
“Why not?” he asks, quieter. “You found the Starline Hotel, and there were no signs of a fire, making the original story about the hotel complete bullshit. Some random dudes shot at us. Not to mention there was a dead body,” he whispers.
“There should be a major investigation.”
“I think it was one of the Collective,” Shawn blurts out, and then turns to Jamie. “Did you notice anything weird at the resort?”
He shakes his head no. “But…” he adds, “I haven’t been there tonight. Too busy getting sewn back together.” He holds up his arm as proof.
“We all need to get on the same page,” Tech says, pulling us in closer. “Now I agree that it was probably someone from the Collective out there. And after thinking about it…” He shakes his head. “The sheriff might be right.”
“About?” I ask, surprised to hear him say that.
“Remember what happened last time there was a dead socialite in the marsh?” he asks pointedly.
My heart stutters. “They’re going to blame a Chaser,” I breathe out, exchanging a worried look with Shawn.
“If it really is one of those powerful assholes,” Tech continues, “we’re going to be the prime suspects. We need to keep our mouths shut.”
Jamie laughs incredulously. “Considering I’m related to one of the ultimate-rich assholes, I’d let them know that’s not true. I was there.”
I wince, realizing how much Tech’s theory makes sense. “Yeah,” I say to Jamie, “but… it’s likely that body had been in the marsh for a while. Meaning, we could have gone out there without you, killed a guy, and then… who knows? It doesn’t have to make sense. I just has to be easy.”
“It just has to be a Chaser,” Tech corrects.
Jamie looks around at us, seeming to think it over. “Then I agree,” he says. “We keep it all quiet for now.”
We sit with the thought for a moment until one of the other Chasers spits rum into the bonfire, making it flame higher.
Someone turns up the music, and the world seems to come into focus again, alive and thriving.
It’s the strangest sense, having life move around you as if you’re not really here.
And right now, I don’t feel here. I feel untethered.
“There’s nothing more we can do tonight,” Tech says, checking the time. “We just need to lie low and see where things stand in the morning.”
He waits until we agree, and then slaps hands with Jamie. Then he and Shawn wander off while Jamie and I hang back, staring at the fire.
I turn to him, checking over his condition. He’s battered and bruised, his black eye even darker now. He has definitely had a terrible day, and that doesn’t even include the part where he almost got shot helping us get away.
Jamie glances at me, curious, before his lips flinch with a smile and he turns away again.
Despite not saying a word, he still gives me butterflies.
We head toward the fire, and together we sit on one of the logs facing the flames. The heat warms my face, and it’s a bit intoxicating, the letdown from the day’s adrenaline almost like euphoria.
“Remember Bonfire Beach?” I ask him, waving around us. “Chasers only—plus you.”
“Of course,” he says. “I didn’t even need the map.”
It’s such a small thing, but I’m happy to hear that. Like he was never really that far away.
Jamie leans back, legs stretched out toward the fire. “I’ve missed this place,” he says quietly. “All of it.” He looks sideways at me. “You.”
There is a mix of sweetness and misery as I stare back at him. The slow ache from all the times I told myself I was over him. Or rather, that he was over me. He was right about one thing: It was easier. It was easier to not talk to him than to have him here and not tell me why he left.
“Just ask,” he says suddenly, like he did on the beach. His eyes are apologetic, but also determined. Honest. As if today has changed things. As if he’s ready.
But I don’t know if I am.
“Why?” I ask so quietly, it’s barely a breath.
He tilts his head at the sound of my voice, hearing how hurt I am in just that single word. He pulls his brows together, his throat bobbing as he swallows.
“It started with my father,” he says finally. “He was waiting for me that last night to confront me about emails I’d sent revealing his affair. I was trying to get him in trouble.”
This surprises me, but then it doesn’t. His father is powerful; it’s not unheard-of that he was unfaithful. And as far as Jamie trying to make him pay for it? Well, that’s just his sense of justice.
“I’m guessing it didn’t work out the way you thought,” I say.
“No,” Jamie says, shaking his head and looking down at the sand. “No, it backfired. In return, he dismantled my life, even threatened to destroy it completely. More than that…” He scrunches up his face. “He made me believe that no one could ever love a fuckup like me.”
When he turns to me again, his eyes are glistening. I’m not sure Jamie ever stopped believing that.
I shift closer, just enough that our arms brush. Not a hug. Not yet. But I let my fingers hang near his, silent permission if he needs to take them.
“It had already been a week before I got access to a phone at school,” he continues.
“You should have been my first call, Noa. Instead… I called my father.” He lets out a breath that’s more like a laugh, but there’s nothing funny in it.
“He told me the next time I disappointed him would be the last.”
My jaw tightens. “Your father’s a psycho,” I say.
He lets out a low hum of agreement, but there’s no satisfaction in it. “Even so, I should have called you,” he says again, as if I’m being too kind to him. “I knew… I knew I was hurting you. And I did it anyway.”
I don’t say anything. Because what is there to say?
The night Jamie left, he told me he had a plan to move to Cape Hope permanently. He was going to talk to his mother and grandfather. I believed him—I wanted to. After he left the beach, I ran home and told my mother everything. I couldn’t stop smiling. I told her I was in love with him.
And she smiled too. Said she always liked him.