It really shouldn’t.
But for some inexplicable reason, it does.
It tells me someone cares. A living reminder of what he’s willing to do to keep me safe, I guess.
He shuffles away then. I don’t open my eyes until I hear the door open and close with a grim click.
Then, I drop down on the bed and pull my legs up until I’m curled into a ball.
* * *
I let the tears come until they can’t.
Then I just lie there, eyes dry and burning, wondering what I did to deserve this. Why did I have to wind up in this mess, a life so jumbled and dark and full of would-be assassins I’m not even sure I want to remember more of who I used to be.
At least I’m covered there. I still can’t remember crap, but I know who I’m not.
I’m not Flint Calum’s wife.
It shouldn’t hurt so bad. I think it’s the loneliness that’s the worst, the glaring proof I have no connection to anybody now. And won’t until I remember something.
Right now, the scarce memories I have are ugly.
I don’t want to be Valerie Gerard, whoever she was.
I don’t want to be this girl who’s horribly estranged and hunted and never found a man to love. If I had a real husband, I think Flint would’ve told me that, too, and he would’ve come searching by now.
But I don’t. I’m alone. I doubt I can even trust my own family.
So I lie there until I’m able to collect myself enough to get up. There’s something hot in my palm.
I finally slide the ring back on my finger because I don’t want to lose it, then shower and get dressed. The tears almost come again the instant I walk into the kitchen and see the box of fresh baked malasadas sitting there.
As much as I love their sugary sweetness, I can’t eat now. I’m just not hungry.
The house is silent, empty, but I hear faint laughter outside. It must be afternoon.
I walk down the hall and out to the breezy lanai. Judging by the noise, Flint and his son are just past the concrete wall surrounding the tiled porch.
Following their voices, I head for the steps leading down to the sandy beach, which is where they must be. Actually, they’re in the water.
At first, it’s hard to believe what I’m seeing.
Bryce stands on a wide paddleboard. Flint circles several feet away, encouraging him to keep the board flat as it dips and bobs in the gentle waves.
Then there’s Savanny. He’s propped up on the board with Bryce, shaking a few stray drops of water off his whiskers, looking around excitedly.
Apparently, my cat’s not just part serval, but part otter too, a water baby to the core.
Good thing, too. It might’ve saved him from drowning after we jumped off the exploding skiff. If Cash hadn’t found us in time and brought us here, we’d both be dead and forgotten.
Flint hollers to Bryce again, encouraging him. I’m not sure this man ever berates or blames.
He’s so easy to relate to.
I wait until he sees me before I cross the lanai and walk down the steps. Flint leaves the water and steps onto the sand, coming toward me. We meet in the center of the beach.
I should be downright toasty. The sand under my feet, the air billowing through my hair, the sun shining down, they’re all delightfully warm. But I’m just chilled to the core and sad.
“Feeling better?” he asks, looking at me hesitantly.
He probably thinks I’m about to faint, or stop breathing, or just…
I don’t know, need him?
That’s hard to wrap my head around, too. He’s been here for everything I’ve needed so far, without complaint.
Lifting my chin, I try to find some stamina. “Yeah, the nap helped.”
“Hungry yet?”
Shaking my head, I bite my lips together to keep from smiling. “Is that your default answer to everything?”
“No. I get that shit from my ma, she’s always trying to feed people, rain or shine. There’s malasadas inside if you want a snack.”
I nod, even though I don’t know his mother, or my own. Another chill cuts through me.
Is my own mother even alive? Or is she dead, too?
No, she’s alive. I think.
I don’t get the same sense of black hole emptiness and loss when I think of her versus my father.
When I don’t move, Flint takes my hand and nods at the ocean. “Come on, say hello to Bryce. He’s already in love with your cheetah.”
That gets a small smile. What can it hurt?
I walk beside him, letting him guide me, digging my toes deeper into the beach with every step. The sandy warmth feels so good, even if it’s not enough to thaw the ice-cold unease in my bones.
The beach feels normal, comforting like so few things are.
“I’m glad he’s made friends with Savanny,” I say, trying to shift the focus off myself and my inner workings that totally aren’t working.