coffee shop the first week in Fort Walton, needing some access to a computer. I wasn’t interested in putting my name on anything that might make me have to pay a bill at the house, so this was a good alternative. I could use the Internet if I needed and I could check or send email with a relative amount of anonymity. Was it overkill? Maybe. But I wasn’t willing to risk anything else.
I brought up AOL and typed in the user account I’d created and that only Carter knew about. We’d agreed that if we needed to communicate for any reason, this was how we’d do it. And it would only be if it was necessary. So far, it hadn’t been, but there was always a twinge of anticipation when I logged in each week.
The inbox was still empty and I let the breath escape my lungs.
I clicked the tab for a new email, entered in the address that Carter had created and typed “Zip” in the subject line. In the body of the email, I typed:
I hit send and logged out of the account.
It was the first time I’d communicated with him since I’d been gone and I was surprised at how much it made me miss him. I couldn’t tell him anything about what was going on, hadn’t even signed my name. I was isolated in the truest sense of the word and I didn’t like it. At all. Liz was gone, but Carter was still here.
Just not in the same way he used to be.
I filled the coffee cup again before I left and pedaled back over the bridge, more leisurely this time, one hand on the handlebars, the other holding the coffee. The morning breeze was still cool and it would be the last few moments of the day that wouldn’t be filled with humidity and moisture. The sun was beginning its ascent into the sky, casting long shadows down the highway and the sand was still perfectly manicured when I got to the beach.
A layer of clouds hovered menacingly on the horizon as I unlocked the shed and pulled out the chairs and umbrellas. I only set a few out, unsure of what the weather might hold. Rains could roll in in an instant, drenching everything in sight, and the beach furniture weighed twice as much when it was wet.
Tourists trickled out to the beach as the morning wore on, eyeing the sky as they walked down the wooden ramps to the sand. By noon, I only had five umbrellas rented and the beach was as quiet as I’d seen it in weeks. The clouds darkened and billowed at the edge of the water, casting ominous shadows on the water.
My stomach rumbled, the result of the long night and no breakfast. I locked up the shed so I could find some lunch and headed up the ramp toward the parking lot and the street. There was a deli about a block up that I frequented and a gigantic sandwich sounded good.
I descended the ramp toward the lot and stopped.
Bella was standing next to her car, her back to the passenger door window. I couldn’t see their faces because their backs were to me, but I recognized David and Colin standing in front of her and it looked like they were preventing her from going anywhere.
The frustration from my last conversation with Bella immediately flared and my initial instinct was to turn around, walk back to the beach and find another way to the street to get my sandwich. She’d made the choice to keep from me whatever she was into and I didn’t need any more complications. She didn’t want my help and I had enough to worry about. I was better off by myself.
But then I saw Jackson’s head bob up and peer out of the window from the backseat. His fingers grabbed at the door and his nose pressed lightly against the glass, his eyes filled with fear.
I hopped down the stairs and walked across the lot toward them.
Colin turned around first, his eyes masked by the shades from the other day. He tapped David with the splint that encased the finger I’d broken. David followed his gaze and an amused smile emerged on his face.
“Man, you seem to be everywhere,” he said. “Like fucking Superman or something.”
I looked past him at Bella. “You alright?”
“She’s fine,” Colin snarled, sticking his chest out.
“Last time you spoke to me, I broke one of your fingers,” I said. “Answer for her again and I’ll break the other nine.”
David chuckled as Colin’s chest deflated a fraction.
I looked at Bella again. “You alright?”
The cut beneath her eye had puckered and scabbed over, the dried blood turning a dark red. The bruising around her nose had darkened and the swelling in her lip was gone. None of the defiance I’d seen in her eyes in the restaurant the day before was present. Confusion and fear had replaced it all.
Jackson knocked on the car window behind her and waved at me. I smiled and waved back.
“We were just talking to Bella,” David said, shrugging his shoulders. “Just hanging out.”
I didn’t like that he was so at ease.
I looked at Bella again. “You wanna go have lunch?”
“Yes,” she said, quickly.
“You aren’t invited,” I said to David. “I don’t eat with assholes who beat up women.”
“Man, you are such a…” Colin said before I shoved my elbow in his mouth.
He stumbled back, blood staining his teeth bright red before he could get his hands to them. He looked at his hands, then at me and charged. I held my ground, then stepped to the side, just as he got to me. I caught him around the neck and moved behind him, locking my arm around his throat and pulling hard. He gagged and his hands pulled at my arm.
But I was stronger.
David watched us, again with amusement. “At least he didn’t break your fingers this time.”
Colin tried to respond, but managed only something between a scream and a gag.
“Let him go,” David said.
I turned to him. “Why? Better to beat the shit out of a woman than some asshole like this? Because that’s what you do, right? Send your shit scum to do the work,” I said, tightening my grip around Colin’s thick neck. “Or was it you? Did you do this to Bella?”
David’s only answer was a thin smile.
“Get in the car, Bella,” I said through clenched teeth.
She hurried around the back of the car, fumbling for the door handle. She slid into the driver’s seat.
“Let him go,” David said. “I won’t ask again.”
Colin’s hands pulled at my forearm, pinching and scratching at the skin.
I held on. “Fat chance.”
David reached into the waistband of his shorts and produced a gun, aiming it at us. “I might hit him first, but eventually I’ll get one in you, too, Superman.”
I heard Jackson’s muffled voice in the car and Bella very clearly telling him to get down on the floor of the car.
I yanked hard one more time and then shoved Colin toward David. He stumbled and fell at David’s feet, coughing and gasping, his hands going to his throat.
“Leave her alone,” I said.
David squinted at me. “Seems like I’m the one with the gun and I’m pretty sure in the movies, the guy with the gun is the one telling people what to do.”
“I don’t watch movies.”
David smiled, nodded. “Good one.”
Colin got to his feet, rubbing his neck, adjusting his sunglasses on his bright red face. “Motherfucker.”
Bella started the car and the door lock popped.
David kept the gun on me and walked in my direction. “I can tell you are going to be a problem.”
“Most likely,” I said.
“I hate problems.”
“I hate assholes.”
He laughed again, now right in front of me. He pressed the barrel of the gun to my forehead. “Now who do you hate?”
David’s biggest problem wasn’t me. It was that he didn’t know me. He had no idea what I’d been through, that I’d had plenty of guns stuck in my face, that I’d shared space with guys far scarier.
