Chapter 22
Anastasia
The hottest day of the summer is a perfect excuse to spend the day lounging on the beach next to my best friend. With the sun high above us, soft towels and warm sand beneath us, I’m here in my happy place.
Waves roll and crash into the shore, and in the distance, children laugh and play.
“Man, isn’t this the life?” Violet asks.
I turn my head to the right to look over at her and smile. “It really is. Hey, those glasses are really cute.” Large white frames, way too big for Violet’s face, sit perched on her straight nose.
“Thanks.” She grins at me. “So, did you see how Rich was looking at you yesterday when we were at the arcade?” She pulls her glasses down and wiggles her eyebrows. “Talk about cute.”
I laugh, but my cheeks heat. “Come on, he was not looking at me.”
“Oh, he so was. I think he wants another kiss.” She blows a kiss at me, and I roll my eyes.
“That was almost six months ago,” I reply.
“So because you’re seventeen, now you don’t want to kiss Rich Travers anymore?”
Truth is, Rich is cute and popular. But it just doesn’t go beyond that. “He’s nice and all, but there’s just no—you know—spark.”
Violet laughs. “Anastasia, not everything that happens in movies and books happens in real life. Sometimes there’s no spark but a nice connection.”
“I think I’ll wait for the spark.” Closing my eyes, I settle back against my towel, a smile on my face while I imagine the guy whom I will marry.
It’s silly, I know. I have my whole life ahead of me, but I seriously cannot wait for the day I meet the man I’m going to spend the rest of my life with. Will he be tall? Handsome? Will he be a doctor? Or a police officer like Dad?
Thoughts of my dad used to dampen my mood, but lately they remind me of what a wonderful man he was. Seeing Pastor Reeves weekly has helped a lot, too. Knowing that one day I will see my dad again in paradise brings me a lot more peace than I’ve had in the years since his death.
“Oh!” Violet turns toward me and pulls her glasses down. “I heard about a party at Lisa’s tonight. You wanna go?”
“What time?”
“It starts at eight, but she said it’ll go all night. I think Rich is going. Josh, too.” She lies back and pretends to swoon.
“Sorry, I can’t. Curfew is eight.”
“Oh, come on! Mine is nine, but I’m going.”
“I can’t.”
“Sometimes I wish you’d break the rules just once,” Violet fakes a pout. “But I get it. And I love you anyway. I’ll tell you all about it. Maybe I can even get Rich to fess up about how he feels about you.”
“I’m good, thanks. Like I said, there’s no—”
“Spark. I’ve got it.” She grins. “If you change your mind, I can pick you up at the end of your street at nine.”
A sinking feeling settles in my gut. I’ve never been one for breaking the rules, but Violet loves to bend them as she can. Since Weston and her mom both work at the ranch, they’re in bed nice and early so they can get up and take care of ranch chores. Will they know that she’s sneaking out?
“Hey, why don’t you skip the party and just come over? We can do mani-pedis, and I’ll put that color in your hair you love.”
“As fun as that sounds, this is supposed to be the party of the year. The decade, maybe. I can’t miss it.”
“Are you sure?” That twisting in my gut gets worse. I know it’s likely only because she’s talking about sneaking out, so I do my best to shove it aside and focus only on the warmth of the sun above me and the heat of the sand beneath me.
“It’s going to be life-changing,” Violet tells me. “You’ll see.”
As I prep lunch, my mood is still a bit on the low side. Last night was amazing. Sawyer and I danced for hours, ate pizza, and then lay on the deck and spent the rest of the evening looking up at the stars. It was the absolute perfect night.
But then that dream hit me. A memory that I’ve had to live with for a long time because I stayed silent when I should have spoken up. What would have happened if I’d just told Weston she was sneaking out? Or if I’d told my mom so she could call their mom?
Would my friend still be alive?
Violet would have forgiven me; that was just who she was. And at least, she would have been alive to hate me if she didn’t.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Lord, please help me. I know she is with you now. I know she is at peace. In Jesus’ name I pray. Amen.
Straightening, I finish closing up the sandwiches, then top the plates with chips. I’m just getting ready to grab two bottles of sweet tea when the satellite phone rings. I reach over to lift it, checking the readout before I answer.
Mom Home.
I smile. Just who I needed to talk to. “Hey, Momma, how’s it going? How was church yesterday?”
A beat of silence. “I wouldn’t know. It’s been a long time since I stepped into a church.”
The voice from my nightmares slides over me, and my pulse kicks into overdrive as I struggle to make sense through the panic.
The readout said Mom Home.
Fear slices through, cutting me straight down to the bone. “Where is my mom?”
“Are you truly so concerned? Seems to me that, if you were worried about her safety, you shouldn’t have left.” He’s quiet for a moment, giving me time to get my brain back online.
Sawyer. I need Sawyer.
Phone in hand, I rush for the door.
“You know, at first this hide-and-seek game was fun. But I’m getting bored.”
“So sorry that I’m not there to entertain you.” I try so hard to keep my voice strong and steady, but it wavers just a bit. Did he hurt her? Is she there right now?
“You will be. You know what they say about idle hands,” he replies coolly.
I step out onto the deck, and the wind wraps around me. Clinging to the phone with one hand, I start up the steps toward where Sawyer is currently driving the boat. I don’t realize until I reach the top that the sound of the motor might just give us away.
At the very least, he’ll know we’re on the water.
“You shouldn’t have left, Anastasia. We have unfinished business, you and me. And if I can’t wrap things up with you, I might have to make an exception and take someone else instead.”
I reach the top of the steps. Sawyer turns around and grins at me, but that smile dies the moment he sees my face. Quickly, I hold my finger up to tell him to be quiet. He slows down and shuts off the motor, and the boat rocks heavily in response.
I grip the side railing.
“Leave my mother alone. Or so help me, I’ll—”
“You’ll what? Have someone else fight your fight? Unfortunately for you, no one in your life seems smart enough to catch me. Though one did get close. Of course, I had to deal with him, but you can consider it a favor.”
Ice floods my veins, and I meet Sawyer’s worried gaze. “What favor is that?” Please, God, let mom be okay.
“I made your decision a whole lot easier.”
“What decision?”
“The Navy SEAL or the FBI man. Ooh! Which handsome hero will it be, Anastasia? I have to say, the FBI man has the better job, but there’s something about a mechanic, am I right? Anyway, since that’s an easy choice to make, I figured—as a friend—I would help you make it.”
Jack. “What did you do to him?”
“Nothing he didn’t deserve.” He laughs, and the line goes dead.
“Sawyer, it was him.” Hands shaking, I hold out the phone. “He called from my mom’s house. He said he did something to Jack.”
Sawyer’s expression twists into rage, and he takes the phone from me.
After checking the read-out, he types in a number.
“Zane. Guy just called us from Linda’s house.
” He’s quiet as my brother relays something back.
“Keep her with you. Is Jack still in town?” Sawyer asks.
“Call him. I will, too.” He ends the call, then hands me the phone. “Type in Jack’s number.”
Hands trembling, I type in Jack’s number. Sawyer puts the phone up to his ear. How can this be happening?
If something happened to Jack—
“There’s no answer.” Sawyer engages the anchor, then rushes back toward me to cup my face in his hands. “Breathe, Anastasia.”
“What if he killed him, Sawyer? What if he hurts Jack because of me? What if he kills him? What if he goes after my mom?”
Images of Violet’s body flash through my mind.
The way she’d been broken. The emptiness in eyes that once held so much life.
“Breathe, Anastasia.” Sawyer grips my face in his hands and focuses my attention on him. It’s only once the noise of my fear begins to fade that I realize I’m sitting on the floor.
“What if he killed him?” I ask again, almost afraid to speak the words.
Sawyer’s jaw tightens. “Then it’s not your fault. That is on him. Not you.” He brushes his thumb over my cheek.
“Sawyer. I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep running. Especially not if he’s going to start targeting other people.”
“I know.” He pulls me into his arms and holds me close. Overhead, the sky is bright. But I know that the storm is just beginning.