He sighs and then pulls a cigarette from his pocket. Flicking the lighter sounds like a gunshot.
I watch the smoke, curling from the tip like a wagging finger.
“A year before that last trip, we all spent a long winter in Hawaii,” he says, pausing to inhale again. “Let’s just say it turned into something special. Something beautiful. Something between Aster and me happened neither of us wanted to end. She wanted it too—or so I thought.”
She wanted it too. That sounds so gross and rapey it takes all my willpower to keep listening to this deranged story.
But I can’t cut him off.
Not when it’s the only thing keeping me alive.
“We stayed in touch after they went home to the mainland. We wrote old-school letters back and forth constantly. We texted. Shit, some nights, Cole would lie there in bed with her, dumb and oblivious. She’d be up until dawn talking to me.” He grins like he’s so proud of it.
I try not to gag, wishing I could punch him.
He flicks ash on the floor before continuing. “When we could arrange it, we’d meet up in swanky hotels and resorts on her wellness retreats. Sure, we fucked like rabbits, but it was more, Eliza. We mapped out a future.” He smiles bitterly. “Cole thought she was frigid? Fuck that. She was an ice queen for him. And he paid so little attention to his wife, he had no clue. That last trip, it was obvious there was nothing between them. She all but hated him. He saw her as a burden—a bitchy, overstressed nuisance who just happened to live with him.”
“Cole?” I can’t see it.
That’s not the man I know.
It’s Troy’s warped version of the truth.
“Yeah, yeah, I know.” He nods in agreement when I haven’t said a word. “The jackass didn’t know what he had. But I never meant for our talk that night to get so heated. I didn’t—”
He stops, flinging a look at me that’s all murderous suspicion again.
“Talk? What talk, Troy?”
“Aw, fuck.” His face falls. “I gave Aster an ultimatum. I told her to leave Cole for me—or else I was ending it. I was sick of the sneaking around, playing second fiddle, getting paid by a dude who kept my woman on a leash. She wouldn’t leave him...”
I lean forward slightly, feigning interest in this horror story.
“And...and when I told her it was over on the beach, she screamed. She said she didn’t care if he knew because he’d never leave her because of Destiny. And she refused to do it, too. So she said it’d be fine if Cole knew about us. Hell, it’s like she wanted him to know. As if the three of us could just go along our merry, fucked up little way. She didn’t care that I’d lose my job. She came from money and she didn’t fucking get it.”
I shiver.
“What did you do?”
“Ifuckingpanicked, okay?” It comes out like one rushed, awful word. “I didn’t want to be caught on the beach with my boss’ wife, but I didn’t mean to grab her. She pushed me first, tripped me over a rock. I fell in the sand. She wouldn’t stop yelling—she just wouldn’t shut the fuck up,” he growls, staring at the glowing end of his cigarette. “Still. I only wanted to drag her into the water to cool her off. Make her stop kicking. I damn sure didn’t mean to hold her under that long. I just wanted her to be quiet. I...I lost control.”
“Holy shit. You drowned her.”
Whoops. It’s too late to take back my words.
He looks at me like he’s about to use that gun.
“Wait, I mean, are you sure you drowned her, though? I heard they found her shoes on the beach, but they thought she could’ve gone off a cliff, right?”
He gives me a smile that scars my soul. “That was me. I dragged her up the hiking trail and flung her back down to make it look like an accident. The rain that morning washed away the footprints.”
Oh, God.
Oh, God.
I’m going to pass out.
He dragged a dead woman up a cliff to throw her back into the ocean, and he’s proud of it.
But his face contorts back into the angry, sad expression he’s worn all night.
“It was ruled an accident. Whenever anybody doubted it, I had the suicide theory to fall back on. For ten goddamn years, it worked—until you popped up. You made Destiny go pawing through her mom’s things—”
“What? Troy, no. I didn’t tell her to look for anything—”
“No? She didn’t bother until you showed up.”
I inhale sharply. “She hadn’t been back to Hawaii before then, remember? That was all her, trying to make peace with what happened...”
I’m not sure why I’m still reasoning with a rabid dog.
He balls his fists up and swings them back and forth at his sides before pounding on the ship’s cabin several times. The noise reverberates through the night.