I did it, daddy!
Tears flowed slowly and I felt a soft hand brush across my cheek wiping them away.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Brent asked so sweetly that I wanted to melt into his arms.
“It’s amazing. I’ve never been on a beach with so many stones.”
“That’s how the beach got its name,” he said.
I studied the stones closer. “Oh, and you thought you needed a chemistry lesson, Mr. Cassidy.”
Most of the pebbles had a reddish hue, dark enough to be almost brown. Jasper was an iron-rich form of silica, and the abundance of iron gave jasper its reddish hue. Thus the name Jasper Beach was an obvious choice.
“Touché, Ms. Blake,” he retorted. “I actually do quite well in chem class.”
“I thought it was odd that you asked for help on the first day.”
“I actually just needed an excuse to be close to you,” he admitted.
My insides tingled, but only briefly. Realizing he meant he needed to be close in case he needed to protect me and not because he had actual feelings for me, I turned back to the water.
After staring at the vast ocean for several more minutes, Brent said we really needed to go up to the house. It was late and I should get a good nights’ sleep. I hoped he didn’t think I was sleeping until he answered some of my questions.
We made our way up to the house and Brent took me upstairs, showing me to one of the bedrooms. It was bigger than Maggie’s entire house. A huge, white four-poster bed sat centered on the back wall. It had royal-blue bedding. The room was decorated in a classic nautical theme. There was one wall of nothing but windows looking out on the Atlantic with a seating area in front of them and a huge stone fireplace on a side wall.
Brent was staring out of the window, thinking about something, the look on his face unsettling.
“Brent.” I interrupted quietly, not wanting to disturb him. Turning to face me, his mouth formed a slight curve in a smile.
“You must be exhausted,” he said, approaching me.
“I am, but we really need to talk about what happened,” I replied, pleading to him for answers.
“I know we do Claire, but it’s late and you should sleep.”
He was right, so I didn’t argue. “Okay, but you promise, first thing tomorrow, you’ll tell me everything.”
“Yes, Claire, I promise,” he replied, motioning a cross over his heart, making me smile at the boyish gesture. “The bathroom is through that door, if you need to use it,” Brent offered, nodding towards a door on the side of the room.
Reaching in my bag, I grabbed my toiletries, along with a pair of pajamas. The bathroom, like everything else in the house, was bigger than I had ever seen. An old iron tub sat on the side of the room in front of a grand picture window. There was a walk-in shower on the other side. A vanity rested on the back wall with two sinks and enough cabinetry to house everything I owned.
Setting my belongings on the counter, I gripped the cold tile. Taking in a deep breath, fatigue sank in and I tried not to think too hard about what happened at my aunt’s house. I brushed my teeth and washed my face. Every inch of me ached. My neck felt especially sore. Looking at my disheveled self in the mirror, I thought I saw the faint impression of handprints on my neck, like the ones on my chest from Logan. That can’t be, I thought. That was just a dream. Logan did not actually attack me. I rushed to turn on every light in the giant room, and then returned to the mirror, gasping in shock. I ripped my t-shirt over my head to expose my chest and screamed in horror.
Brent was at my side in seconds. His expression was terrified when he saw the dark handprints on my chest and neck. The bruises on my chest were so dark now it looked like they had been drawn on with charcoal.
“Logan is an Anchor? How did I miss that?” he shouted, darting from the room. I chased him, ignoring that I was still in my bra.
I was right behind him as he descended the stairs. “What? What the hell is going on Brent?” I demanded.
He ignored me, grabbing his cell phone off the counter. I stared at him with my hands firmly on my hips, begging for him to acknowledge me, to tell me what was going on. He pushed a single button, held the phone to his ear and began to speak.
“I missed something … Logan is an Anchor … I don’t know how, but I’m positive… because she’s marked…Yes, I’m sure no one followed us…Don’t worry, I’ll keep her safe…Yes, I got all of the Couriers…I know the ramifications…No, I haven’t told her anything yet, I think she should sleep first…Okay, don’t come until you’re sure it’s safe. I’ve got her…Okay…Bye.” He pulled the phone from his ear and hit a button ending the call.
Brent gripped the phone so tight I thought it was going to splinter in his hands. Grumbling something under his breath, he threw the phone at a chair. His eyes were dark and his jaw was tight, his teeth clenched and I gawked at him, terrified.
He saw me and relaxed, taking my face in his hands, his touch mollifying my distress. “I’m so sorry, Claire. I don’t know how this happened. He should have never gotten to you. I failed. I fucking failed. I’m going to make it right, okay?”
My head was spinning. Feeling like I was always left in the dark when it came to my life, I grunted my frustration. “What are you talking about? Logan did this to me?” I questioned, pointing to the hideous marks on my body. “How? Why?”