Shattered Secrets Page 10

  Derick wasn’t cold. Worse. He was hot. Angry. Hurt. Protective—I liked the last part.

  The last part meant more to me than I’d probably admit.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered.

  A car pulled into the hotel’s lot, high beams shifting across palm trees and parked cars until they stopped on us. The high-pitched screeching of brakes and low rev of an engine were the first real noises I noticed since we arrived. I’d been so focused on the letter and my daydream of living with Derick, the realization we might have people following us hadn’t set in. Until the car stopped.

  Derick squinted and glanced toward the rude people who intruded on our private moment. No way had my kidnappers followed us. My imagination would not take control. I wouldn’t let it.

  “Get in. We need to go,” he said, urging me to sit.

  “You’re too tired to drive.”

  “Now.”

  The car’s lights flashed a few times, nearly blinding me.

  “Please?” he asked, as though his resolve had unhinged.

  That scared me, so I sat, strapped on my belt, and sweated like I’d run five miles on a humid summer day. Stupid nerves.

  Derick jumped in; he threw the shifter into reverse and peeled out of the parking space.

  A horn blared through the quiet night, and lights flicked on in almost every hotel room. No kidnapper would want to draw attention to their victims.

  I let out a deep breath.

  We passed right by the silver Crown Victoria with dark tinted windows, too dark to see through, then raced onto I-95. Derick kept his eyes on the road, his feet alternating between gas, brake, and clutch.

  I checked through the back window to see if the car followed us but couldn’t tell one set of headlights from another. The amount of traffic so early in the morning was unbelievable. As were our tired, overactive imaginations. “I think we’re safe.”

  Blue and red lights flashed in the side mirror.

  “How fast are you going?”

  “Eighty five.”

  “Derick. Was it not bad enough that car in the hotel parking lot freaked us out, but now you have to add speeding to our list of problems? What if my parents reported me as a runaway? What if your parents had to go along with it? What if—?”

  The cop blew right by us.

  Derick glanced at me, a big grin stretched up both sides of his face. “Guess we don’t have to answer those what ifs right now.”

  “Can you slow down at least?”

  “I’ll do better than that. I’m going to let you drive.”

  “You think it’s smart to stop now? Here?”

  He drove me crazy. First, he wanted me to drive. Then, he forced me not to. Now, he wanted to stop on the side of the highway. Again.

  “I think if I’m going to keep this car invisible any longer, I’m going to need to do so while not concentrating on traffic.”

  Oh. Jerk. “You knew.”

  “That the police weren’t coming after us?”

  “Yes. You knew, and you let me worry.”

  Laughing, Derick pulled over. “I told you you’re cute when you’re angry.”

  I flung open the door, then rushed around to switch seats. “How long have you been doing this?”

  He shrugged. “Off and on since you fell asleep just outside Richmond.”

  “I slept that long?” Maybe the jerk title belonged to me.

  “The last few days haven’t exactly been easy. You needed your rest. So I hid us at gas stations, when I felt like speeding, or when there weren’t a lot of other cars on the road.” Derick stretched his arms behind him, squeezing the black leather headrest with his biceps. “But just a few more hours and we’ll be free.”

  We shared a smile—his melted my heart—then I took the exit for I-10. Just a few more hours, and I would have what I’d wanted for five years.

  I wasn’t about to allow anything to take that away.

  aint blue cracked the eastern horizon, pushing the dark blanket of endless stars off to the west. We crossed a narrow bridge onto Gulf of Mexico Drive. I couldn’t see much, but I knew water bordered us. Everywhere. I pressed the buttons for the windows and inhaled. The ocean air held a chill to it, but a chill with a hint of warmth. Salty wind blew through the gently rustling trees and into the car.

  Peace.

  I felt it. I smelled it.

  Derick shifted in his seat, uncrossing his arms from his chest. He shivered and opened his eyes, then immediately glanced at me. “We made it?”

  “How’d you know?”

  “This island is magical. I sense it.” Derick stuck his arm out the window and let his hand glide along the breeze.

  I did the same, letting the air soothe my skin. “Where do we go from here?”

  “Silver Sands Hotel. It’s about a mile, on the right.”

  We rode in silence, listening to the waves roll and trees sway. Enjoying freedom. I don’t know if he felt the carefree spirit washing away his tension, but I certainly sensed relief.

  My long hair whipped in my face, brown daggers stinging my skin. I propped the steering wheel with my knees and wrapped my hair in a band.

  Derick smiled. “This is it.”

  There weren’t any lights shining on the rock-lined parking lot. A blue office sat on the right with the hotel behind, but judging by the quiet, dark appearance, no one was here to offer us a room key.

  “I think they’re closed.”

  “The room will be open.”

  I parked by a row of trees, then got out. My legs cramped like hell, and I needed to stretch.

  He sauntered around the car, reaching his arms over his head and looking around, then took the keys from me. “I made a few phone calls while you were asleep.”

  “How did you manage that?”

  “Disposable phone.” Derick grabbed our things from the backseat. “My dad said no cell phones, but I think he meant our cell phones. They’d be too easy to track, but if we bought pay-as-you-go, no one would be able to trace them.”

  Maybe I could use one to get a message to Megan, at least let her know I was okay and would contact her as soon as I could. She’d kill Dad with her million phone calls to ask about me. “And you rented a hotel room for us?”

  “Bought.” He took my hand and squeezed my fingers.

  My breath escaped me, and I stared at the building. Not large. Not small. But right on the beach, the bright moon still shining behind it. “Bought?”

  “It’s a hotel and a condo, and it’s ours after we sign some paperwork and go through the process.” Derick led me down a corridor to Unit 242. “Welcome home, Abigail Nichols.”

  “How much money do we have? And are we even old enough to buy a condo? How did you…? How c—?”

  He pushed open the door, and I didn’t care about my questions anymore. Everything was white and cool. Big square tiles on the floor. A white leather sofa. A wicker coffee table with magazines spread about. White entertainment center. In the midst of all this were bright orange paintings. Red throw pillows. Colorless and colorful all colliding together to create a tropical feel.

  I walked in and flicked on the light switch. At the back of the condo, vertical blinds were drawn closed. I rushed over, pushed the blinds back, then opened a sliding glass door.

  “We have a screened-in porch. On the ocean, Derick.”

  I’d never been to Florida before. The only beach I visited was Virginia’s, but somehow I knew this would be different. Better. I scoured the Internet for pictures of Longboat when he and his family traveled here. He called me every day to tell me stories. He even brought me back souvenirs—sand and shells—and told me he was so bored without me. But part of me was desperate to see the island, and now, here I stood, with Derick. Alone. In our condo.

  I turned around, heart pounding out of my chest. “Can we go see the ocean?”

  “Come on. We’ll get some towels.” He tugged me down a short hall, the walls covered in photos of shells and palm tre
es and sunsets, and rummaged through a closet. “We stayed in this condo that summer. When I saw it for sale, I knew I had to buy it for you.”

  “What’s in there?” I pointed toward an open door, hoping he couldn’t feel me shaking.

  “Bedroom.” Derick squeezed my fingers again.

  I’d never been so nervous around him in my life, but the implications of our situation meant so much more than Derick and Abigail as friends. “Oh.”

  “You may want to take off your boots.” He stared at my feet still caked in mud and leaving trails behind. “You won’t need those here.”

  I unlaced then flung off my shoes, leaving them right in the hall. Mom never would have allowed that, and I’d clean up the mess later; this wasn’t a moment for manners or rules or worrying about what my mom would think.

  We went out through the porch and stepped into cold, soft sand. I wiggled my toes and closed my eyes. I loved it.

  “Come on.” He ran down a narrow path between the dunes and down to the beach, tall grasses waving along the sides of us, welcoming us to their home, to their paradise.

  The morning light glowed a little brighter, a little warmer, illuminating the short, breaking waves that pushed glimmering white water toward us. Low tide.

  Laughing, I followed him.

  Derick shook out the bright red towels, allowing them to ripple in the wind, then laid them on the white sands. A few minutes before, I was exhausted—ready to pass out while driving—but being here made me feel alive. Maybe the island held magic after all?

  I plopped down beside him and rested on my elbows, staring down the beach. Little crabs scuttled in the sand. A few joggers ran along the waterline, dogs on leashes by their sides. How long did we have before we needed jobs? Before the beach became something we saw in the wee hours of the morning and then not again until we came home in the evenings? How long could we enjoy ourselves? These questions nudged into my thoughts, but I tried not to think. Not yet. Not now. I wanted to relax.

  “We still have enough money for a couple years,” he said, as if I spoke my concerns aloud. “The condo’s utilities should be cheap, according to the listing. I need to sign the paperwork later, then we can go shopping, hunt down jobs to keep us occupied. Do you have anything you’d like to do? There’s a golf course, a grocery store, a few little shops, but Longboat is pretty peaceful. We may need to go to St. Armand’s to get jobs, but then there’s the whole issue of us only being safe here—”

  “Derick?”

  He rambled on and on about things I didn’t want to worry about yet. “Maybe we can get a job here in the condo office, or we can try for the store. Maybe they have bene—”

  “Derick!” I sat up and took his face in both my hands; his blue eyes locked with mine.

  He had this wild look about him, like when my father lost his job and came home and cried because he didn’t know how he would feed his family. I used to think that’s why Dad hated Derick’s parents so much. Money and jobs came easily for them. Now that I knew the truth about Derick’s mom, I knew they played the stocks and lottery and won often because of her future seeing abilities. That probably made Dad hate them more. He knew the truth, too.

  “Snap out of it,” I said, rubbing my thumbs across his high cheekbones. “Can’t we take a few days and not worry about anything? I don’t know how long we’re going to be here, but if we have enough money to last a couple years and you’re worried about money, I’m guessing that means you expect us to be here a very long time.”

  He nodded, and for a short moment, the thought of being stuck here sent shooting pains through my chest, but I let them go; I wanted to enjoy the place I’d dreamed about for years.

  “So, then, how about a week? We’ll collect the paper, scope out the island, have a little fun, then worry about jobs next Monday. Sound good?”

  A smile crossed his face, filling my palms with his happiness. Derick took hold of my cheeks and got on his knees. He leaned in, brushing his lips across mine, making my heart speed up.

  “One week of this?” he whispered against my mouth, his breath warming my skin.

  I shook with anticipation, with excitement. I couldn’t form a coherent sentence in my head, let alone try to speak.

  “Or maybe we could do this?” He kissed me, the briefest of kisses, then pulled back and stared into my eyes. Derick dropped one of his hands to my shoulder, then slid his fingers along my arm. “But if you don’t want to—”

  “Shut up and kiss me, please?”

  He laughed, lowering me onto my back, gaze never leaving my eyes. Derick lightly pressed his chest to mine, cradling my head in his hand, and then he kissed me. His lips were so soft, so gentle. He didn’t rush—there was no reason to. Our parents wouldn’t interrupt us. We were safe from my kidnappers here, or from anyone for that matter. No, Derick kissed me like a man who knew he had all the time in the world. Tongue caressing mine, fingers threaded through my hair, bare foot rubbing bare foot.

  My lungs burned for air; my body burned for more Derick. There were many things I hadn’t experienced in life, sex being one of them. Before him, I was too young to think about things like this. With him, that’s all I thought about.

  Derick roamed his hand down my side, then lifted the bottom of my shirt.

  “We have to stop,” I mumbled between kisses.

  “Mmm. Why?”

  “We’re on the beach. There were people jogging. What if someone sees us?” I turned my head to the side. The jogger was definitely closer, headphone wires swaying with each step. Sometimes I wished Dad’s always be aware of your surroundings lessons didn’t sink in so well. Ignoring my surroundings in this moment would be awesome.

  Derick growled but kissed my cheek and returned to his side of the towel, one arm draped over me. “We are the two most overdressed people in Longboat, of that I’m sure. But you’re right. You deserve better than this anyway.”

  “Better? Than this?” I waved my hand toward the ocean and then back at the condo. “Can’t get much better than this.”

  Smiling, Derick said, “It can get a lot better than this.”

  We lay there quietly in each other’s arms, watching the sun brighten the sky, soaking in the warmth and natural beauty of the place. I caught sight of three dolphins trekking across the line of the beach, but nothing could get me to move. Not even something I’d dreamed of seeing since I was a little girl.

  Derick fell asleep, and I wondered how life could get better. Because in this moment, I couldn’t imagine anything making me happier.

  y skin cried out in pain. Sleeping on a Florida beach after spending my life in the more dreary state of Virginia was not a wise idea. The sun burned me… bad. I didn’t need to open my eyes to figure that out.

  At some point, I must have nestled into Derick’s arms. Moving seemed tragic, but I needed food. And aloe. I wiggled free of his embrace and then looked around. So quiet. So empty.

  I glanced at my hands. They were as red as a cooked lobster, so was Derick’s face. I laughed. Thank God we’re overdressed.

  He cracked open an eye, squinting against the midday sun.

  We slept outside for so long!

  “What’s so funny?”

  Not snorting took every ounce of self-control I could muster. “You look like you held your head over a steaming pot for the last, oh, I don’t know, ten years.”

  “How do you think you look?”

  Touching my cheeks, I knew they were swollen. “I’m sure better than you.”

  I nudged him in his ribs, right in his most ticklish spot.

  He got up with blinding speed, fingers wiggling in front of him. He was such a dork, but for whatever reason I was already dying laughing, my self-control button set to minimum. He hadn’t even touched me yet.

  I jumped up and ran for the condo. “Race ya!”

  Derick blew right by me, kicking up sand with his bare feet. “You can’t beat an All-American track star, Abby.”

  “I can try
!” And I would fail. Always. Such speed.

  In no time at all, we were back inside the condo, bent over laughing and breathing heavily. He draped our towels over the white plastic chairs on the patio, then closed the door… right as my stomach rumbled.

  “I guess I need to feed you, right?” he asked, a wide grin lining his beet-red face.

  I nodded, holding my hands over my loud gurgling belly. “And soon, too, Red Face.”

  “I like that nickname. Makes me sound like a chief of something.” Derick grabbed his keys from the kitchen table, took my hand, then led me to his car. “You don’t come with any warnings, do you? It’s okay to give you water and feed you after midnight, right?”

  “You tell me. You’ve taken me out to dinner how many times now?”

  “Not enough, especially in the last three months, but I have a feeling I’ll be able to make up for that now.” He tugged me closer and bumped be with his hip. “So how about lunch at the Lazy Lobster?”

  “Ooh. Sounds islandy and matches our faces—for now. Perfect.”

  Best lunch ever. Not because we ate at a restaurant on a key off the Gulf Coast of Florida. Not because the most important person in my world played footsies with me the whole time. But because the food was to die for.

  New England seafood sliders. Amazing. Who cares if I should have eaten something a little more tropical. Didn’t matter where the fish came from, so long as it was good. And it was.

  Too bad the staff didn’t offer to take us back to the Mustang by dolly. Certainly would have helped us out. They did, however, offer us tips on skin care.

  “Groceries?” Derick asked, eyes closed, hands on his abs.

  “Ugh.”

  “Mom always told me it was better to shop when you’re full. I think I understand why.”

  I pictured walking up and down aisles, deciding on which foods to add to our cart. My stomach lurched. “Totally.”

  “We should just go and get it over with, though. Once we unload the food, we can go buy some more appropriate beach attire.”