Page 68 of Wicked Games

He disconnects.

I sag against the counter. I knew Brooke was dead, but it’s different knowing she’s dead. I think back to our happier times. Christmas, summers when we would sit outside in the backyard and play with Theo. I’d grill, and after dinner, Marcy would put Theo to bed and Brooke and I would make love. Christ. How many of those years were fake? How many of those years was she sleeping with both Vale and me? When I’d twirl her around the kitchen and we’d make love against the fridge. Afterward, she’d say she was having drinks with friends. Was she meeting Vale? Would he fuck her while my cum was still inside her?

Did she tell Hattie she didn’t want more kids with me because she was wanting to give Vale children?

I still have an hour before I’m meeting Avery to go to the beach, and I put in a load of clothes and clean up the house. I don’t want her thinking that I can’t take care of myself and always depend on others to do things for me. She might not want a cleaning service in our house. I have a difficult time picturing my money changing her. I hope it won’t.

Exactly at noon, I walk across the grass wearing a t-shirt, swim trunks, and sandals, a towel hanging from my hand. It’s hot, and there’s not a cloud in the sky. It’s a good day to go to the beach. Wearing denim shorts and a tank top, Avery’s puttering around in the kitchen, and my throat burns. She’s beautiful, in a sad, damaged way, and all I want to do is protect her and keep her safe.

When I slide the glass doors open, she drops what she’s doing and steps into my arms. She heard the news too. Bill, maybe, or Darren called again, warning her to stay away from me or she’ll end up dead.

I wrap my arms around her and press my lips to the top of her head.

“I’m so sorry, Seth.”

“Yeah.” I blow out a breath. “We knew it though.”

“Yeah. Did you still want to go? We can stay here.”

“No. There’s no point to that. I have my cell if LaSalle needs me for anything.”

She meets my eyes. “If you’re sure.”

“I’m good. Are you ready? I’ll drive.”

“Yeah. I packed a beach bag with some extra water. The cooler’s too small to fit much and it’s hot outside.”

“Sounds good.”

I drive us to the beach on the same road I run on, and I hold her hand in my lap.

The parking lot’s filling up, but the beach is pretty big and we choose a spot away from the families and little kids running around. Watching them build sandcastles near the water hurts and I look away. Theo would have loved a day like this.

Avery packed a blanket, and I help her spread it out. She’s wearing a two-piece swimming suit under her clothes, the space between the hem of her top and the waist of her bottoms showing off a narrow slice of skin. It’s sexier than any bikini, and even though LaSalle dumped a lot on me this morning, my cock twitches.

Unaware she’s turning me on, she pulls her hair into a ponytail and sits on the blanket.

I sit next to her and scan the beach. The water’s a navy blue, and there are boats in the distance. There isn’t a lifeguard on duty, and a sign warns that we’re swimming at our own risk. Even on a hot day like today I doubt the water’s warm enough, and simply wading would cool anyone down. We’re near the part of the beach that melds into rocks and cattails, but the water’s too choppy for ducks. People are coming and going out of the changing shelter, and at least we’ll have a place to go to the bathroom if we don’t sweat out all the water Avery brought.

I take my t-shirt off and toss it aside. I rarely run without a shirt, and my skin’s almost as white as Avery’s. Resting my arms on my knees, I say, “LaSalle said that Brooke was killed in north Ashfield in the parking lot of a bar that’s not open anymore. They looked around the place and found a woman squatting there. She used to work for me.”

“What does that mean?” she asks, digging into the cooler and wiggling out a bottle of lime Perrier. She offers it to me, and I take it. She pulls out another and twists off the cap.

“I don’t know. She had the gun, so they finally got rid of it.”

“Do you think they’re done then? That they’ve gone into hiding and that’s it?”

“Yeah. I think so.” I sip the water and the bubbles burst on my tongue. On the other side of the beach, two teen girls are flying a kite, the bright pink tail ribbons fluttering against the blue sky.

“Bill called me this morning and said he talked to Rowan last night. He called Bill back and invited him to his house for a drink.”

“Anything come of it?” I ask, but I doubt it.

“He said Rowan was pretty calm for his wife being missing, but that could have been shock. He asked Rowan why he thought Hattie was at the park that day and if he thought Brooke could have put her up to it.”

I wince. “I doubt that went over well. He accused Brooke of kidnapping her own son.”

“Yeah, and Rowan got defensive too. He said Brooke didn’t have anything to do with it, and if Hattie was there, she must have found out about it from one of her sources. We didn’t rule that out, but there has to be a reason why she didn’t stop them from taking him.”