Dangerous Tides (50 page)

Jackson swore, the sound bitter and angry. Libby burst into tears, covering her face with her hands, but unable to stop herself from watching the drama unfolding below her in the water-filled chamber. She peeked through her fingers to see Tyson swimming strongly toward his cousin. She knew the water was freezing. She was still shaking violently from the exposure, but Tyson made it to Sam's side and caught at his arm, signaling him to head toward the rope.

Sam nodded his head and the two fought their way through the water together, using sheer physical strength against the surging waves. They were running out of time. When the next large wave came, they would both be slammed into the rocks, drowned and swept out to sea.

The water swirled in the chamber, creating a whirlpool. Twice the two men were sucked down to the rocky floor but they fought their way back to the top, gasping for air, tilting their heads to the ceiling to manage to grab a few breaths. Sam wrapped his hands around the rope and reached back to draw Tyson to it as well. He began to climb fast, Tyson right behind him. Their combined weight helped to prevent them from being tossed around by the strong current and undertow.

By the time they neared the hole in the ceiling, both were weak from fighting the water, the icy cold and the sheer energy it took to go up the rope. Jackson caught Sam and dragged his body through the opening, falling back to make room for him. Sam was soaked, shaking with cold, teeth chattering, hardly able to move. He rolled to the right to make room for Tyson.

Tyson's head broke the surface of the water and he reached for the edges of the rock in an attempt to draw himself up. Sam continued his roll, coming up on one knee, the gun Jackson had set to one side in his hand, the barrel pointed straight at Libby.

There was a moment—a heartbeat of time when no one moved. Libby saw the utter resolve in Sam's eyes, the brutal triumph. Behind him, Tyson tried to heave his freezing body out of the water, but his movements were uncoordinated and slow. Sam's finger slowly squeezed the trigger.

Jackson drew his spare gun from his boot as he dove in front of Libby, slamming into her body and driving her sideways. The two explosions were simultaneous, deafening in the small confines of the cave. A small neat hole blossomed right between Sam's eyes and he went over backwards, almost into Tyson's arms.

The second bullet skimmed Jackson's shoulder, taking clothes and skin as it went by to smash into the rock behind him, ricocheting off to zing into the tunnel and embed in the dirt wall.

Water blasted up through the hole, completely soaking Tyson. Jackson made a grab for him and dragged him clear where he lay on the floor of the cave staring at his dead cousin's open eyes.

Chapter Twenty

"LIBBY, what are you doing up?" Hannah asked. "It's nearly four a.m." She watched Libby pace back and forth across the living room floor. "Would you like me to make you a cup of tea?"

Libby shook her head. "I can't sleep, but you should go back to bed."

"You've been crying." Hannah waved her hand toward the kitchen. "You need something soothing. Have you slept at all since you last saw Tyson?"

Libby shook her head. "Not much. I try. I have a lot of nightmares."

Joley peeked into the room. "Are you having a private conversation, or can anyone join?"

Libby smiled in welcome. "I'd ask you what you're doing up, but you never go to bed. At least not until morning."

Joley shrugged and curled up in a wide recliner. "I've always been a bit of an insomniac. Don't you remember poor Mom trying to get me to bed?"

"You and Kate. She was always reading under the covers with a flashlight," Hannah remembered. "It drove Dad crazy."

"Hey!" Abigail walked in, carrying her pillow. "If you're having a get-together, I want to be included. Besides, the whales should be coming through in about an hour and a half. We can sit on the cliff and watch them."

"Only you would know precisely when a pod of whales would be swimming by," Hannah said. "We're always so lucky, we never miss them."

"We can't have you sitting down here alone," Elle said, joining them. "If you all were going to have a party, you should have invited me."

Libby's answering laugh was strained. "You're all crazy." She wasn't in the least surprised when Sarah and Kate arrived, complete with pillows.

When she'd first come downstairs, she hadn't bothered with the lights, but sat alone in the dark, crying. Restlessness had set in and she'd been unable to remain still, pacing back and forth like a caged lion. Now she felt exhausted with grief.

"Libby," Sarah said gently. "You're wearing yourself out."

"Ty didn't say a single word," Libby burst out. She'd been so determined to be stoic, but now, surrounded by her sisters, she had to tell them how she felt—what she feared. "Not one. Not to me and not to Jackson. He looked so devastated and so alone."

"Here, honey, drink this."

Rather absently, Libby took the cup of tea Hannah handed to her. "Ty put his arm around me, but he was so broken I could feel it. I tried to help him, but he was in shock and nothing I did penetrated enough to comfort him. I've never felt more useless. He lost so much.
Everything
. And I couldn't help at all." She blinked back tears. "Tyson walked away from me and he didn't look back."

Hannah dropped her hand on Libby's shoulder. "You were in shock yourself, Libby, and you'd just expended a tremendous amount of energy healing your compound fracture. You have to cut yourself a little slack."

"Not to mention fighting for your life," Joley pointed out.

"Thank heaven you taught me that smashing maneuver with the mace that time, Joley," Libby admitted, striving to steady herself. "I never would have gotten away otherwise. I used the flashlight." She took a sip of tea. At once the soothing blend helped to calm her.

She looked around the room suddenly aware of what she had. The true gift she'd been born into. Sarah and Abigail were lighting several aromatic candles. Kate added logs to the fire. Joley dimmed the lights. Elle and Hannah tossed pillows on the floor so they could all lie in their usual circle together. Everything Libby's sisters did was all for her. The house was warm and filled with love. Her sisters had all come together—gotten up at four in the morning just to support her—to make certain she was all right. She was surrounded by love every minute of her existence. Whenever she needed it or wanted it, all she had to do was reach out and any one, or all, of her sisters would be there for her.

Tears filled her eyes. Setting the cup of tea aside, she slipped onto the floor, and put her head down and cried. "It's been a week and he hasn't called me."

"Baby." Sarah stroked her head. Kate and Abbey rubbed her back. "He'll call. He'll sort it all out. You know Tyson. He's a thinker. He has to make it all right in his mind before he comes for you."

"It's just that I have everything that matters. And Ty has nothing. Everywhere I go, whatever I do, I have all of you behind me, supporting me." She touched Joley's hand. "Standing up for me and watching my back. He's never even had parents that understood him or made him feel loved. Sam was his everything, the one person Ty thought loved and cared for him. How can he ever be whole again?" Libby wiped at the tears running down her face. "You should have seen him. Felt him. He was absolutely shattered."

"Libby," Sarah said gently. "Tyson didn't lose everything. He still has you. He has to come to that realization and he has to do it on his own. You're the person who will give him the love and understanding he's never had. You're the person who will stand up for him and watch his back and support him. He hasn't lost everything; it only feels that way right now. But he's a strong man and he'll wake up one morning and know that you're his everything. And he'll come back to you. You have to believe that."

Libby wasn't so sure. Sarah hadn't seen Tyson. She hadn't looked into his eyes or felt his pain. "He didn't even look back at me when he walked away," she whispered. She ducked her head and let herself cry, let the love of her sisters ease the terrible heartache.

Sarah's two guard dogs rushed down the stairs into the living room and whined at the front door. Sarah glanced at Kate, one eyebrow raised. She went to the window to look out. "Libby. There's a man wandering around outside. He looks very lost and alone… and very much like Tyson."

Libby jumped to her feet.

"Look for yourself."

Libby rushed to the window, her sisters crowding around her. In the distance, on the path leading to the beach below, a man stood, hands in his pockets, staring out over the ocean. The breath rushed from her lungs. "That's Ty. I have to go to him."

Libby reached out to her sisters and squeezed their hands hard before racing outside. She ran down the walkway leading through the front garden to the courtyard overlooking the beach. She slowed down when she saw him, her heart pounding so hard she pressed her hand to her chest.

Tyson stood looking down at the sea. His tall frame was silhouetted against the sky and his hair blew in the breeze. His profile was to her and in that unguarded moment, she could read the unrelenting sorrow etched so deep into the lines on his face. As if sensing her presence, he turned to face her fully.

Her heart nearly stopped. She'd never seen such naked grief. Waves of anguish, of anger and confusion radiated from him, nearly overwhelming her. He looked utterly defeated, his face ravaged by the pain of his loss, of Sam's betrayal. In the week since she'd seen him, he'd lost weight, and there were deep lines of suffering carved into his face. His eyes were alive with heartbreak and dark with shadows.

Everything she was, the healer, his lover and friend, the woman in her, all responded with such intense compassion, such empathy, she had to fight back tears.

"Libby." He said her name as if it were a talisman.

She went to him and silently wrapped her arms around him. Tyson buried his face against her neck. A shudder ran through him and he gripped her so tightly she knew she'd have bruises later. A sob of anguish tore from his throat. Libby closed her eyes as she felt his tears on her neck.

"I'm here, Ty. I'll always be here," she whispered, her own tears streaming down her face. She held him in her arms and let him cry until he was worn out from his grief.

Tyson straightened, looked around him and blinked at her, as if he had no clue how he got there.

"Come on, let's go down to the beach," she urged, knowing he wouldn't want to face her family so ravaged.

Tyson took her hand as they walked side by side, the sand under their feet and clouds drifting overhead. As far as the eye could see, the ocean continued its ceaseless ebb and flow. They walked a mile before he spoke.

"I had nowhere else to go, Libby. The house is gone. Sam is dead. I didn't know what to do. I just stood in the morgue, staring at his body for hours and I didn't know what to do."

The wind touched their faces, ruffled their hair and tugged at their clothing as they continued down the beach. A seagull screamed overhead.

"Why didn't I know? I'm supposed to be a genius, and I didn't know. Didn't guess. He needed help. How could I have been so fucking blind that I missed that?"

She remained silent, knowing he had to be able to talk, to work things out for himself. He wasn't to blame. Sam was a sociopath. No one close to him had known—or guessed. Had Tyson known, he couldn't have done anything about it, no matter how smart he was. Sam had been beyond help.

Tyson stopped abruptly and faced her, both hands raking through his hair in agitation. "I failed him. I didn't see what was right in front of me. I was too busy with my research and I didn't care that he was stealing money from the estate. I never once addressed it with him. I should have, Libby. I didn't think it really mattered, but I should have called him on it. I let things go too far."

She put her hand over his heart in silent sympathy. The empath in her wanted to weep forever. The healer wanted to take it all away. The woman who loved him, let him talk, let him find his own way back. It was one of the most difficult things she'd ever done.