The Calling (31 page)

Please be unconscious.

Justin swam to Ty and reached down. He latched onto Ty’s arm and pulled him to the surface. Sorrow filled his chest over what Ty had done, and over what Justin had been forced to do to save Mandy. As regret washed over him, it cooled his temper and the waters began to calm, the mountainous waves easing, their fury abating.

He trudged through the surf until the water became shallow, then he collapsed to his knees. He cradled Ty to his chest and breathed for him, pushing air into his quiet body. But Ty’s heart was still, his soul gone.

Justin stared down into Ty’s eyes, the gray of his irises dull and unseeing. For years, he’d loved the man in his arms. He’d confided in him, worked by his side, lived with him. He’d known a Ty that cared for Mandy, wanted a family, a future. That version of Ty was as real as the twisted one that had stalked them to the beach.

“Why?” he whispered.

Had Justin pushed Ty too far, breaking him? When Ty had left Mandy, Justin had hurt for her. But mixed in with that worry and pain, he’d also experienced hope that she might one day be his. Seeing where his desire had put them, he hated himself.

With Ty in his arms, he stood, his bones creaking, and struggled toward the sand, the weight of his guilt making each step impossibly tiring. Carefully, he laid Ty down on the beach, crossing his hands over his chest and straightening his legs.

He placed his thumbs over Ty’s eyelids and closed them. The man lying before him looked peaceful, at last. “It shouldn’t have ended this way.”

Mandy shut her eyes so tight they disappeared behind a hood of brows and lashes. An anguished sob escaped her lips. “No!” She beat the sand with tight fists and cried.

As he listened to Mandy’s broken voice carry high above the din of the surf, he knew he’d never forgive himself for killing Ty. He didn’t expect Mandy would forgive him, either.

Chapter 22

Justin sat on the sand and stared at the waves breaking on the beach, the peaceful scene in stark contrast to the violence he’d unleashed five hours ago. He pulled his legs to his chest and buried his head in the cradle his knees created. Several hours ago, Mandy had been taken to the hospital as a precaution, and thirty minutes ago, Ty’s body had been carted off.

Lieutenant Dale trudged across the sand and sat next to him, folding his legs Indian style. His cheeks were flushed red, and his lips pressed tightly together the way they always did when he was pissed. “I told the investigator to fuck off. He wasn’t too happy with my choice of words.”

Justin rested his cheek on one knee and gazed at Dale. “Why’d you do that?”

“’Cause he kept asking me how you survived a tidal wave unscathed while Ty died and Mandy almost drowned.”

“What’d you tell him?”

“You’re a goddamn rescue swimmer. That’s what I told him. You’ve saved men in category-five hurricanes. You saved your woman and couldn’t get to Ty in time. He said you’re free to go.”

“Thanks, Dale.”

“You going to tell me what really happened out here?”

Justin scanned the wrecked beach. The sand was soaked all the way to the dunes, and channels were cut a foot deep where the water had drained back to the sea. The evidence of what had happened was all around them, but Dale knew better. He was one of the few people who’d witnessed Justin’s twisted relationship with the ocean.

“I saved Mandy’s life from more than a tidal wave,” he answered.

“Figured as much.” Dale patted him once on the back, then let his hand linger on Justin’s shoulder, a show of solidarity that Justin needed in that moment. “Ever since the accident, I had a bad feeling about Ty. I’m sorry things ended this way, but I’m glad you and Mandy are okay.”

He wasn’t sure they were okay. The second he’d dragged Ty’s limp body ashore, a wedge had been driven between them that he didn’t know how to fix.

“You need a ride home?” Dale asked.

Justin shook his head. “I’ll be fine.”

“Call me if you need anything.” Dale patted him one last time on the back, stood, and headed toward the parking lot. Justin gazed at the ocean as he reached into his pocket to pull out Mandy’s ring. His fingers met nothing but a damp cotton lining.

He closed his eyes and traversed the water with his energy, feeling his way past shells, seaweed, and small schools of fish. When he felt Ty’s gun rocking in the waves a few yards from shore, he paused, then pushed the pistol further out to sea. Ty had been killed by a freak wave, according to the police report. His family didn’t need to know he’d died while trying to shoot Mandy.

“The thing you’re looking for is twenty feet past the buoy.” His dad’s voice carried on the breeze. “Whatever it is, it’s small, and it’s got a piece of your heart attached to it. A shark’s swimmin’ by it right now.”

Justin rolled his energy toward the red buoy bobbing in the ocean. Sure enough, he felt the fins of a small shark slicing through the water. Beneath the fish was Mandy’s ring. He gently tumbled the velvet box to shore.

Wearing his uniform of faded jeans and a button-up long-sleeved shirt, his father walked to the water’s edge and picked it up. As he strolled toward Justin, he opened the box and whistled. “Nice ring.”

“It’d look better on Mandy’s hand.” Justin took a deep breath, not sure why his dad was there. “You just left yesterday. You didn’t have to come back because of this.”

“This ain’t why I came back.” He handed the box to Justin, the black velvet crusted with wet sand. “I needed to talk to you about somethin’ before I left, but I didn’t. When I got home, I couldn’t sleep because I hadn’t talked to you. I’m grumpy when I don’t sleep.”

“So you should be at the house right now.”

“I was at your house. Mandy called and told me what happened. Said you might need me.”

“She told you everything?”

Mitch’s eyes tensed, a spark of knowing dancing in their depths. “She said a rogue wave killed an old friend of yours.”

He studied his dad’s face, deciding how much to divulge.
In for a penny, in for pound
. “He held a gun to Mandy’s head.”

His dad’s expression remained empty, as if he were afraid the slightest emotion would pass judgment. Maybe he knew what a thin string of twine their relationship dangled from.

“Her old boyfriend?” Mitch asked.

“Yep.”

His dad plopped down beside him and picked up a piece of driftwood. He drew a long line in the sand, then whipped the driftwood back and drew another line beneath it before connecting them in the figure of a snake, complete with a slithering tongue. “I went to Grand Lake in Oklahoma one time with my little brother,” Mitch said. “We were in our early twenties with nothin’ better to do, and we heard there was some good catfishin’ there.

“We was tromping around the shore looking for a spot to cast our lines when a snake struck your Uncle. It sunk its teeth into his jeans, barely missing his hide, and spit venom all over the place. I’d never seen a water moccasin before, and this was a big bastard. As soon as it let go of my brother’s pants, we took off down the shore. The foul-tempered thing chased us. I never knew a snake could move so fast.

“Every time we’d think we’d lost it, that damn moccasin would come hissing up behind us and we’d take off again.” His dad snorted. “We must’ve looked like two country bumpkins tearing up the shore. Finally, we decided that son-of-a-bitch was the craziest snake in the south. It wasn’t going to stop attackin’ us, and it had enough venom to kill one of us, maybe both.”

“Is there a point to this story?” Justin asked.

“Snakes aren’t supposed to keep attackin’. If they sense danger, they’ll strike out to scare away the predator but, once the danger leaves, they go back to their business. That snake wouldn’t leave us alone, so I killed the damn thing with my pocketknife. Your uncle clobbered it with a tree branch, pinning its head down, and I sliced clear through its tiny brain. That was the last crazy snake I’ve ever run up on in my life.”

“Ty was a man, not a reptile.”

“You didn’t want to hurt him, but you did what you had to in order to protect someone you love.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better.”

“If it did, you’d be a cold bastard.”

Justin ran his hands down his face. His ex-best friend had reached the breaking point. Of all the people in the world, he should’ve understood what it was like to go off the deep end. He’d watched his mom lose it, and he was always one shake from losing it himself. As soon as he knew Mandy was okay, his wrath should have calmed, and sympathy for Ty should have taken over, but it didn’t. Ty was dead because he was heartless.

“I killed him, Pops. Nothing I can do is going to change that.”

“It wasn’t your fault, son. He was that damn snake, comin’ at you.”

Justin’s chin dipped to his chest, the guilt and horror of what he’d done eating him from the inside out. “I didn’t know I was capable of that kind of anger, Pops. And Mandy saw it all.” He splayed his palms on the sand and pushed himself to his knees. His body creaked and moaned with the effort, his ribs burning again. Damn, he hurt.

He gritted his teeth and stood. “Christ, what if she thinks I could lose my temper with her like that?”

“She knows better.”

God, he hoped so. “I need to head to the hospital to get her.”

“She’s out already. Said to tell you she’s stayin’ with her parents tonight.”

“Then, I’ll head there.”

Mitch rose quickly and grabbed Justin’s arm before he could take one step toward his car. “She wants to be alone.”

Justin jerked his arm from his dad’s hold. “Jesus!”

“She just needs a li’l time. Ain’t no reason to get bent outta shape over it.”

“She needs time with me!” Justin shoved his hands into his pockets and paced a rut in the sand, every synapse in his brain firing at full throttle. If she didn’t want to see him, then he’d not only put a rift between them, he’d dug an abyss. How the hell was he going to bridge it?

“You can’t fix everything, Justin. Sometimes people have to deal with things in their own way. If she needs a night away from you, give it to her.”

All of the resentment from the last twenty years flooded over him, the anger, the hurt, and the rejection seething to the surface. He stopped pacing, ready to explode, his hands fisted at his sides, the veins on his arms popping through his tan skin. “My ex-best friend is dead because of me. My girlfriend, who should be my fiancée right now, doesn’t want me around. And now I’ve got my dad giving me a pep talk? Where the hell were you when I needed you? Why weren’t you telling me everything was going to be okay twenty years ago when Mom lost it?” He threw his hands in the air and snorted. “Oh, yeah. You were blaming me for killing your daughter. Well, guess what, Dad? Everything I touch gets fucked up! It started when I was ten, and it’s just the same shit tonight. I couldn’t save Cecelia, I couldn’t save Mom, and I sure as hell can’t bring Ty back.”

“Ain’t none of it was your fault.”

Justin straightened as the twine connecting them snapped. He jabbed a finger at his dad’s chest. “Leave your fuck-up son alone.”

His dad opened his mouth to speak, but Justin jabbed him in the chest with more force, the tip of his finger digging into his sternum. “Just go back to Galveston where you belong, Pops. No one wants you here.” He stalked off toward his car, wishing the ocean would swallow his dad as it had Ty.

With sudden fright, he glanced toward the beach, expecting another tidal wave to snatch his dad from the water’s edge. All remained calm, the gentle rushing of surf shuddering on the beach before receding peacefully into the ocean.

Justin exhaled a loud breath and hurried away before his anger excited the water.

* * *

Mandy lay in her childhood bed as the sun rose higher over the city. She thought sleeping in the room where she’d found comfort since a child would ease her anguish, but the familiar oak furniture and pink heart bedspread hadn’t helped one bit.

She rolled toward the brightening window and rubbed her face. It had to be close to mid-morning, and yet she hadn’t slept a wink. She took a deep breath and went motionless. Maybe if she lay still enough, she’d drift off.

Slowly, her eyes closed, too heavy to stay open. Waiting for her on the other side was Justin, his eyes burning bright with rage, his arms outstretched, commanding a giant wave.

Her stomach somersaulted, and she swallowed back the bile. She opened her eyes before the vision that had haunted her all night finished playing out. It always ended with Ty’s lifeless body lying on the sand, Justin leaning over him, closing Ty’s eyes with the tips of his thumbs, his expression a mixture of anguish and hate.

She held her pillow as if the harder she clutched it, the easier she could control her tears. When the tears came anyway, she did what she’d done a hundred times since yesterday. She tried to rationalize Ty’s death.

Scene by scene, she analyzed Justin’s actions. She understood why he’d lifted a wall of water the size of a house and slammed the wave into them. She understood why the onslaught of tidal waves continued until he knew she was okay. His fury consumed him.