The Calling (32 page)

But once he’d known she was alive, why hadn’t he stopped? In the back of her mind, an awful possibility took hold, gripping her heart and wringing it dry of blood. What if Justin had killed Ty on purpose?

She clutched her pillow harder and squeezed her eyes shut. “Justin wouldn’t do that,” she whispered, and yet still the possibility held her in its grasp.

“Can I come in?” her mom asked, peeking around the door.

Mandy wiped her tears on the blanket before nodding.

The bed jostled when her mom sat, and she ran a hand through Mandy’s tangled hair. “Are you okay?”

Mandy stared down at the foot of the bed, hoping her mom wouldn’t notice her bloodshot eyes. “Not really.”

Her mom took an agonizingly slow breath. “I hate bringing this up now, but Ty’s stepfather called.”

Mandy stiffened, sure it was about Ty’s funeral. Why hadn’t she thought she’d be invited?
Because Ty died yesterday, that’s why
. She sank deeper into her sheets, realizing she was going to have to see Ty’s body again, and worse, pretend a freak wave had killed him.

Her mom’s eyes tensed, but she continued. “They’re flying Ty’s body to Miami the day after tomorrow. The funeral’s the next day. His mom wants you there.”

Mandy moaned. As miserable as she was, she couldn’t say no. She’d always liked Ty’s mom and, even if pretending Ty had died inexplicably zapped her last bit of sanity, she’d play the part for his family’s sake.

“The doctor said we need to watch out for pneumonia. I can use that for an excuse if you don’t want to go.”

“I have to go. It would mean a lot to Ty’s mom.” Ty’s mother had always been good to her. She’d even called crying when she found out Ty had left her. With no other children but Ty, Mandy’s presence at the funeral would be a comfort.

“I’ll go with you, honey.”

“You don’t have to.”

Her mother cupped her cheek with one hand, a hint of unshed tears pooling in the corners of her eyes. “I almost lost you yesterday.” Mandy could hear the unspoken word ‘again’ in her voice. “I want to spend that time with you. Unless you’d rather Justin go with you.”

“No!” Mandy protested more harshly than she’d intended, but the thought of Justin at Ty’s funeral startled her. She lowered her tone before speaking again. “That’s too much to ask after all he’s been through the past month.” She ached to tell her mom the truth, but pulled away instead, curling her arms to her chest. No one would understand what had happened except Justin and his dad.

Her mom stood, swiping moisture from her eyes. “Your cell phone’s on the coffee table. It’s been ringing nonstop all morning.”

“That’s probably Justin.”

“You two okay?”

“I don’t know.”

Mandy’s mom leaned down and kissed her on the forehead, her touch comforting. “You’ll work it out.”

She hoped her mom was right but, in her gut, she knew they had a mountain to climb. Mandy pulled the covers over her head, nestling deep into the pillow. To her surprise, she finally fell asleep.

She didn’t rouse until late that evening when her mom tugged down the comforter. Mandy squinted against the light of the lamp her mom had turned on. Her head ached, but she was thankful for the reprieve from her nightmare. A rip current had pulled her out to sea. All traces of land had disappeared, leaving her floating in a vast expanse of blue with no hope of being found. Mandy sighed a breath of relief that it’d only been a dream, until her mom held a phone to her ear.

“Justin’s worried about you,” her mom whispered, with her hand over the receiver. “He came to the house earlier, but I told him you were sleeping. If you don’t talk to him, he’s just going to keep coming back.”

Mandy wiped the sleep from her eyes and took the phone. She wasn’t ready to face Justin yet, but it seemed she couldn’t hide any longer. “Hello?”

“I’ve called you a hundred times. Why haven’t you answered?” Justin asked, his tone strained.

She sat up, the throbbing in her temple worsening. “Mom, I might need a little privacy for this conversation.”

Her mom reluctantly inched for the door. When she finally closed it, Mandy said, “I haven’t called you back because I’m still in shock over what happened.”

“That Ty’s dead, or that I killed him?”

Mandy flinched. To hear Justin say aloud what he’d done hit her straight in the gut. “Both.”

“I need to see you.”

She bunched up a pink heart on her comforter and twisted the life from it. When she let it go, the fabric stayed warped, the heart lost in its folds.

“Please talk to me, Mandy,” he begged.

She could hear the desperation in his voice, and it made her hurt even more. “We’ll have to see each other tonight. Tomorrow, I’m leaving for Florida.”

“What? Why?”

“Ty’s funeral.”

“Christ, Mandy. He tried to kill you. Why in the hell would you go?”

She mashed her lips together, not expecting him to understand. “Because I owe it to his family.”

“You don’t owe them anything.”

“He was a person, Justin. Maybe he was sick and deluded, but people loved him.”

“You loved him.” He spat out the word “loved” as if it were diseased.

She clutched her chest, folding her hand against her heart. “Once upon a time.”

“He tried to murder you,” he growled.

“I know.” She leaned forward as a tear trickled down her cheek. It fell onto the comforter, turning the edge of a pale pink heart to a shade of wine. “You don’t have to keep reminding me.”

“I think I do because now that he’s dead, you’re treating him like a martyr.”

“No, I’m not!”

Justin paused, his breathing loud enough to hear through the line. “Just come to my house so we can talk.”

If they were going to get through it, it wasn’t going to happen over the phone. “I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”

Chapter 23

Mandy walked to Justin’s door, her feet dragging and her heart heavy. Instead of heading in as she always had before, she raised a hand and knocked, feeling as though she were standing in front of a stranger’s home. In reality, that wasn’t far from the truth.
Guess that’s to be expected after your boyfriend kills your ex.

Justin answered wearing track pants and no shirt. Dark circles framed by bags hung under his eyes, and his chin showed at least two days’ worth of stubble. As she stared at him, she flashed back to the beach, to the rage in his eyes and the boiling ocean. She swayed on her feet, the porch spinning, the world tilting.

He reached out and caught her, palming the hollow below her ribcage. “You haven’t eaten anything since yesterday, have you?”

She shook her head. He knew her too well. Her appetite was always the first thing to go when she was upset. Justin helped her into the house, easing her over the threshold. While they headed down the hall, she thought back to her last meal. Had the picnic on the beach really been her only sustenance in two days? Her mom had brought her cream cheese and crackers the day before, and even a bowl of soup, but she’d pushed them aside as if they were putrid. They’d smelled that way to her.

Mandy groaned and pressed her hand to her stomach, her head woozier with every passing floor tile. “A few crackers might help.” She leaned heavily on him as he guided her to the kitchen table and settled her into a seat. She lowered her head and rested her cheek against the cool wood, wishing the room would stop spinning. Then suddenly, the kitchen wasn’t the only thing turning, so was her stomach.

She jumped from her chair and raced to the bathroom, making it just in time to vomit in the toilet. Justin’s footsteps chased behind her. She grasped the toilet, hoping it’d keep her from spinning off the planet because her head was somewhere orbiting the earth.

Another round of nausea rose, twisting her gut. She curled her back and retched bile, the bitter taste biting her tongue and stinging her nose.

Justin pressed a cool, moist rag against her forehead. She grabbed the washcloth and wiped her mouth.

“You okay?” he said, as he sat beside her, his eyes full of concern.

Surprisingly, she was. Almost as fast as it had rushed in, the nausea rushed out, leaving a hollowness in her stomach. “I need food.”

He tilted his head toward the toilet. “After that?”

Instinct told her if she didn’t eat, she’d retch again. “Yes.”

He helped her to her feet, wrapping his arm around her waist and hoisting her off the ground. She grabbed her toothbrush and did a quick once-over, before gargling with water and spitting. After she replaced the toothbrush in its holder, she headed for the kitchen with Justin beside her, staring down at her as if she’d grown a third eye.

She studied him while he watched her, noticing the slight downturn to his mouth and the worry lines that had deepened since yesterday. His dark mood made her yearn to comfort him, but the empty gnawing in her stomach demanded all her attention, refusing to be ignored.

God, she was thirsty. She headed straight for the fridge and pulled out a carton of orange juice. Without thinking, she opened it and chugged a quarter of the sweet liquid. How many times had she heckled Justin for doing the same thing? Right then, she just didn’t care.

“Since when do you drink OJ?” Justin asked. “For that matter, since when do you drink from cartons?”

“Since today.” She’d never tasted anything so wonderful in her life, which was odd, because she’d never particularly liked it before.

Remembering her manners, she pulled a glass from the cupboard, not the little juice one, but the big pint, and filled it to the rim. She sat at the table while Justin tugged a sleeve of crackers from the pantry.

“You got any cream cheese?” she asked.

He headed to the fridge, opened the door, and shook his head.

She caught a glimpse inside. “Butter will do.”

He cocked a dark eyebrow. “You’re kidding, right?”

“It’s nine o’clock at night, and I haven’t eaten since noon yesterday.”

He grabbed the butter.

Ten minutes later, after she had inhaled the entire sleeve of crackers, a quarter stick of butter, and two glasses of orange juice, she was ready to talk. Justin, however, was not. He’d taken a phone call and was pacing in the living room, agitation clear in his furrowed brow. When he finally hung up, he headed to the kitchen, his shoulders sagging.

“Who was that?” she asked.

He rubbed the back of his neck as he sat down in his usual chair. “Lieutenant Dale’s pushing back my start date.”

“That’s good.”

“I don’t want to stare at these four walls for another week, obsessing over what happened yesterday.” He ran his hands through his disheveled hair and sighed. “Why are you sitting way over there?”

Mandy squirmed in her seat. She hadn’t thought twice about taking the chair farthest from him, even though it’d been Mitch’s seat. “I didn’t even think about it.”

“Oh, no? Then why won’t you look me in the eye?”

She rubbed her temple, knowing the answer to that was charged with emotion.

“How are we supposed to fix this if you refuse to talk to me?”

She tried to look him directly in the eye but, when she met his gaze, she could still see a hint of the anger that had consumed him on the beach. The skin on the back of her neck prickled, and she averted her gaze to the table. “What happened out there, Justin?”

“Why don’t you say what’s really on your mind?”

They sat in uncomfortable silence while she worked up the nerve to speak. She could hear everything in that moment, from the ticking of the clock hanging on the wall, to the hum of the refrigerator. As the dripping of the sink joined the chorus, she wasn’t sure she’d ever spit out her true thoughts. It’d hurt Justin too much.

“Get it over with, Mandy.”

She swallowed hard, the lump traveling down her throat nearly choking her. “Did you do it on purpose?”

“He held a gun to your head, and don’t think for a second he wouldn’t have murdered you.”

She looked up. “Is that a yes?”

The hurt in his eyes overwhelmed her. “Do you really believe I’d kill someone?”

“Two days ago, I would have said absolutely not. But after yesterday… I’ve never seen you so furious before.”

Justin clenched his hands into tight fists, the veins on his forearms bulging. “He held a gun to your head, Mandy! I heard it fire! How could I not be furious?” He shook his head, his tense muscles loosening a notch. “I didn’t drown him on purpose. I couldn’t control myself. I tried… but…” His voice broke, and his lips mashed together as if he couldn’t continue.

“You didn’t do it on purpose,” she whispered, but she still couldn’t look him in the eye.

“It’s not enough.”

No, it wasn’t, because she was never going to stop seeing Ty dead on that beach. And every time the image invaded her mind, she saw Justin, lording over the ocean, unable to control his anger.