18. Jack

18

JACK

I park in the service station lot, cut the engine, and then swiftly grab two blankets from the back seat. I feel anxious, not wanting to lose time while also hoping to somehow outrun Aaron’s questions about why I acted like an idiot and stormed out of Johnny’s bar. I have no idea why I let the situation get the best of me, and quite likely, I need to probe deeper for some answers. But right now, my brain doesn’t have the bandwidth to process it all. I knew Aaron hadn’t invited Rocco to Aqua Vista, but the guy certainly rubbed me the wrong way, and his comments felt way too much like a pressure campaign. Or maybe it was just me putting pressure on myself.

Regardless, focusing on the moon reflecting off the water tonight will help alleviate whatever the hell I’m feeling. Having Aaron so near again only adds to the tension. I was tempted to drag him into my house and have my way with him. I know he would’ve barely put up a struggle—he loves being dominated or bossed around, or hell, whatever it is that appeals to him so much. And obviously to me too. But sex isn’t always the answer.

Listen to me acting like any of those things matter. We’re only hooking up, for Christ’s sake. But somewhere along the way, I’ve come to care about him as a person, so I don’t want to make any wrong moves. Maybe Aaron is right, and we can remain friends after all this is over.

Aaron follows me to the shore. From the top of the towpath, I aim my camera and shoot. It’s like my fingers are itching to move, to do something useful, to help occupy my attention, or I’m liable to say a bunch of things I don’t mean.

“That’ll be a nice shot,” he says quietly, as if hoping not to step on my toes or add to the tension between us.

I babble about settings and angles, knowing Aaron doesn’t understand a lick of what I’m talking about, but he gets this intensity in his eyes like he’s trying to absorb it all, and damn, if I don’t like that a lot.

The glow of the moon filters through his green eyes, making them appear translucent, and my fingers itch to trace the small scar on the edge of his eyebrow. His lips are shiny as he licks them, and I want to pull the bottom one into my mouth.

I ignore that feeling and head down the steps, ready to get on with it.

I sigh when I remove my shoes and sink my feet in the sand. Yeah, it feels good. I won’t deny it, even if I take it for granted most days. But I know it’s more than that. It’s what the ocean has come to represent to me. It hasn’t been the same since the boating accident that stole my family. For a long while after, I only viewed it as a dark black hole. It took me some time to appreciate its beauty again instead of dreading its power.

I turn in time to watch Aaron pause midway on the stairs to point toward the ocean. “I can see the boat lights from here.”

A painful memory filters through—of me in just that spot, searching for any glimmers on the waves. Hoping for a fucking beam or glow representing signs of life. I ruthlessly thrust that thought from my brain.

I refocus on Aaron, whose wide grin makes him look like a little kid who’s just discovered the ocean. Without thinking, I lift the lens and begin shooting with the backdrop of the path and sky behind him.

“Hey! No fair.” He charges down the steps toward me.

“My equipment, my rules,” I tease as I twist my body away from him.

“Is that so?” When he grabs for the camera, I release my hold on it.

He angles the lens toward me and takes a shaky shot, as if unsure which button to push. “We finally got you in a shot! Probably a shitty one, but still.”

I cover part of my face as I invade his space, attempting to cover up the lens. I don’t enjoy having my photo taken. Go figure. Neither did my dad, but he still mugged for the camera in family shots. He did it for my mom. She liked organizing all the memories into photo albums and, more recently, in folders on the computer. My stomach churns just remembering how important it was to me to transfer those files.

“I concede!” He hands me back the camera. “Don’t want to break anything.”

“Looks like I have some company!” a voice comes from farther down the beach.

Aaron squints in that direction. “Beth? What are you doing here?”

“Hurry, come quick.”

“What’s going on?” I ask as we rush toward her. Doesn’t matter if there’s bad blood between us, I’ll still help in an emergency.

“Turtles are hatching!” she announces, then lowers her voice. “Oops, trying not to disturb them.”

“Turtles?” Aaron whispers as he squats to see the baby turtles pushing out of the sand and heading toward the water. “Holy shit. This is a first for me.”

I lift my camera and start shooting in rapid succession. “The idea is to only observe and resist the urge to help them along, though people have different philosophies on that.”

“Agree. It’s hard not to help,” Beth says. “But they need to find the ocean on their own. It’s instinctual.”

“This is surreal. What kind of turtles are they?”

“Hawksbills,” I reply. “They’re endangered, so I hope most of them make it.”

Aaron gasps. “Why wouldn’t they?”

“Predators.” Beth points to the sky and then the sea. “Drowning, any number of scenarios.”

“Isn’t that a reason to help them?” he asks with emotion in his tone, and it reminds me of the first time I saw the turtles as a kid. I said much the same until my father explained some things.

“Humans shouldn’t intervene with nature. Survival of the fittest and all that.”

One of the turtles heads toward the walkway, his internal navigation getting him lost. Aaron silently pads behind, watching him but not touching. Beth shows him how to redirect them by building little trenches in the sand so they turn toward the ocean. That’s definitely human intervention, but one that’s acceptable around here.

“How did you know about the turtles hatching?” Aaron asks Beth.

“I follow their life cycles. It’s the reason I came down here, hoping tourists wouldn’t get any ideas about taking or helping them.”

“That’s awesome of you,” Aaron says. “Did you know about the frogs too?”

“The frogs?” I ask.

“The ones June told me fell from the trees. The curse or whatever.”

I smirk because it’s a ridiculous notion, knowing Beth sees it differently.

“It was my grandmother who had an inkling. Her intuition was stronger.” She clears her throat. “But though mine plays a part too, that’s not the only thing I rely on. I’ll admit there’s a certain energy to this place that I pick up on, for good or bad.” Understatement. “And that day was odd all around.”

“I happen to like the energy around here,” Aaron says, and Beth smiles. My stomach tilts in this weird way, wondering what he means. “It’s like a cross between Mayberry and Sunnydale.”

I snort. “A Buffy fan, I take it?”

“Who isn’t?” he quips.

Beth winks. “Well, I don’t know of any vampires in Aqua Vista, but I wouldn’t be surprised.”

I shake my head. “I’ll take Sunnydale over Amityville.”

“I should hope so,” Beth replies with a slight shiver. “That movie was inspired by a true story.”

The next couple of hours are spent babysitting the turtles and taking photos. The high tide finally retreats, so we lay out the blankets as close to the water as possible and settle in. Aaron and Beth chat about everything from the turtles to how Aqua Vista got its name. He tells her about growing up in San Jose, and I listen intently to him discussing his mom’s asthma. She has something called FAO which is a more severe, chronic type and his voice takes on a strained, worried tone. He really loves her. Another reason he’ll never consider leaving the city she lives in. Not that the option is on the table.

When all has quieted down with the turtles, Beth stands and pats her skirt. “I think I’ll get some shut-eye and check for any stragglers at sunrise.”

“Sweet dreams,” Aaron replies. “Thanks for showing me the turtles.”

That’s true enough. We may have missed them had we headed in the opposite direction on the beach. Though I still wish it was me who’d introduced him to another thing to draw that look of wonder from him, the first being the eagles.

“You men have a good night.” She gives Aaron a look. “I’ll have your mom’s bracelet ready tomorrow.”

“I nearly forgot.”

“It’s all right. You would’ve been back around these parts again.”

“Is that right?” He chuckles nervously.

“Maybe I’m wrong—Lord knows I’ve made plenty of mistakes—but I can feel it squarely in my gut, and that’s gotta mean something.”

She throws me a wary glance before she walks away, and I clench my jaw.

When she’s out of earshot, Aaron rounds on me. “What’s that about?”

“Beth and I have history.”

“I gathered that much.” He plops down on the blanket beside me. “Care to elaborate?”

I stare out at the ocean, threads of memories curling around my thoughts. Ah, hell, why not? “The week of the accident, she had an instrumental part in keeping the search going—because of her so-called intuition.”

Aaron grows silent as he takes that in. “Why is that a bad thing?”

“Because she gave us hope,” I spit out. “And that wasn’t a good thing to have after so many days. I couldn’t sleep, eat, even bathe. All I could do was desperately watch the horizon.”

“Are you saying the authorities listened to her hunches?”

“Maybe, maybe not. She’s friendly with the police chief. Even still, she constantly gave us reassurances that I clung to with all my might.”

Aaron swallows roughly as if afraid to ask. “Did she tell you your parents and brother-in-law would be found?”

I nod. “Alive. I shouldn’t have put so much faith in her predictions.”

“I’m so sorry.” He reaches for my hand, and I let him. It feels like a gigantic boulder is sitting on my chest as I’m reliving that moment. “Is that why you rarely walk on the beach or take photos of the ocean?”

“I…” My mouth runs dry over how on the nose he is. “How did you know that?”

“Just put two and two together. I told you, you’re not that hard to read.”

It’s the levity we need. I fling some sand at him, and he tosses some back. We wrestle on the blanket, which only leads to getting sand everywhere.

As we’re standing and shaking out the blankets, Aaron asks, “Do you think maybe she feels terrible…having given you hope?”

I hitch a shoulder because it was never discussed again. Oh, she’s tried, but I’ve ignored her. I just couldn’t go there. It was too painful. Even now, I feel that same gnawing in my stomach. “June says to let it go, but I can’t help thinking she overstepped.”

“I get it.” He squeezes my hand. “Does Beth still have family in Aqua Vista?”

“She lost the love of her life about ten years ago,” I reply, remembering full well how wrecked she was. She’d closed her shop for months after. “Her name was Alise.”

His eyebrows arch up. “Her?”

“Yep. They ran that store together until there was a freak accident.”

He winces. “I’m almost afraid to ask.”

“Alise was hiking in the mountains and got dehydrated. Disoriented. Died from a rattlesnake bite.”

His hand clamps over his mouth. “How devastating!”

Guilt builds inside me about hanging on to my anger for so long.

“Had they found her in time, they would’ve been able to save her.” I swallow roughly. “Some of the townsfolk said she brought it on herself. Awful stuff. I may have my own issues with Beth, but that’s totally uncalled for.”

He frowns. “Do you think that played into how she responded to your family tragedy?”

“Johnny thinks it clouded her thinking. And maybe it did.” Talking it through with Aaron makes me feel more rational about Beth. But I can’t shake how she overstepped. Her mantra— they’ll find them in time —felt like a cruel refrain, but I can see how she probably blames herself for Alise. June told me once that Beth feels like she gave up too early, and for someone who tries to radiate positive energy, maybe that had been her downfall.

I can feel Aaron’s gaze pressing into me. “What?”

“I like the softer side of Jack McCoy.”

My heart bounces against my rib cage.

“I thought you liked the hard side,” I tease.

He laughs. “That too.”