The Perfect Getaway, page 10
No one could hear me.
No one could see me.
No one knew what had happened.
No one knew the world ended.
“Emily!”
Please, God, no. I wasn’t particularly religious, but in that moment, I prayed. I prayed harder than I’d ever dreamed possible. Screams ripped from my chest, guttural sobs tearing through me, the water slapping me in the face. My mouth was full of sea water as I begged for her to be spared. For this to all be a nightmare.
Bring her back.
Save her life.
Don’t take her from me.
I’ll do anything.
I prayed and I cried and I fought the current and I pushed and I breathed into her cold mouth. I did everything I knew to do. I fought for her harder than I would’ve fought for myself.
The ocean slapped me in the face again, nearly ripping her from my arms, but I clung to her for dear life.
In the end, it didn’t matter.
By the time I made it to the shore, she was already dead.
Chapter Nineteen
Natasha
I’d been tossing and turning all night, but at that moment, I was lying awake thinking of all that had happened. Between the group, but also between Jaren and me. What had gotten us to the place we were in? I remembered so many fights over the years, arguments over things that didn’t matter in the long run. Screaming fights over things I couldn’t even remember anymore.
What Emily said in the spa really got to me. More than I wanted to admit. Sure, I knew my friends knew Jaren and I had problems, but they were around us all the time; they knew our truths. Emily was a stranger. She knew nothing, and yet she knew something I would’ve never volunteered without being asked. Why had I told her anyway?
What if she brought it up to Jaren?
A sickly feeling washed over me as I pictured the way she’d been looking at Brad lately—Brad, a happily married man.
What if, knowing the issues Jaren and I were having, she tried to go after him? I couldn’t have it.
I shouldn’t have cared. But I did.
Outside the hut, the wind was howling. Rain pattered on the roof and the windows. The sliding glass door was closed, but even with the overhead ceiling fan, the open windows were doing nothing for the heat outside except allowing rain to pour inside. I stood up to close them, though I dreaded doing it. I was drenched in sweat, my mind wandering between stress about my marriage, stress about Emily, and the possibility of running headfirst into the ocean to cool off. My husband, insistent on sleeping under a sheet and blanket even in the hottest of environments, was still in bed, sleeping peacefully. I was sure by morning, our bed would be a puddle of sweat.
The wind picked up, howling again, but this time it sounded practically human.
No.
It was human. Someone was screaming.
I flipped on the bedside lamp on my table and hurried across the room. Jaren rolled over, one hand over his eyes. “What are you—”
“Something’s wrong.”
The sound died off, but I knew what I had heard. I walked to the sliding glass door and slid it open, suddenly aware that there were no locks on the doors, and wondering what we would do if something went wrong.
Jaren was sitting up in bed then, one eye still closed. “What are you talking about?”
“Someone—”
There it was again. A cry of pain—of agony. Someone was hurt. I looked at Jaren, who jumped from the bed at the sound.
“What the hell was that?”
“I don’t know,” I said honestly, the wind whipping around me, cooling me as the sweat dried on my skin. Through the darkness and the storm, I couldn’t make out a thing. “Put your shoes on.” He reached for his shoes as I did, tossing on a T-shirt as we rushed out the door and across the sand. The beach was dark—it didn’t seem like anyone else had been disturbed by the noise.
Jaren moved in front of me, a hand out to keep me behind him as we made our way toward the roaring ocean. The rain pelted us, blurring our vision and stinging our skin, soaking us even more than we already were. “Did it come from this way—what’s that?” He pointed straight ahead, and I moved around him, trying to catch a glimpse of what he was staring at. I put a hand up over my eyes to shield them from the rain.
No.
“Andy,” we said at the same time, dread filling my veins. Without another word, we took off, rushing toward him as quickly as our legs could move in the dense sand. He was face down, the tide slapping his sprawled out body, though he wasn’t moving. I could hear his quiet sobs the closer we grew, his voice hoarse. How long had he been out there?
“No, no, no, no, no,” he sobbed, not looking up even as we grew near, our shadows cast across him.
“Andy?” Jaren yelled. “What’s going on?”
My blood ran cold as we reached him and I realized what I was seeing. The places where I’d thought the sand had washed away, creating dark, shadowy rifts, were actually strands of hair. Dark hair. Andy wasn’t face down in the sand, he was lying on top of someone.
He was lying on top of someone who looked incredibly dead.
When Andy lifted up, Emily’s body was contorted. Even in the moonlight, I could tell. Her head was twisted to the left, her hips and legs pointing to the right. Even for someone flexible, the position didn’t look comfortable. The rain slapped her in the face, though she didn’t move or seem bothered by it. She was incredibly pale—even more so than usual, and I’d wager a guess that her lips would be blue if there were enough light for us to see them. I knew what had happened, and yet I couldn’t make my brain form the words.
Jaren went into action immediately, bending down and grabbing the body. “Andy, move.” He dragged her back across the shore, his feet digging in as he struggled to move backward through the shifting sand and raging storm. “Come on.” He sighed, breathing out of his mouth heavily. “Help me.”
Andy stared in horror, watching it all unfold but not moving. I ran around in front of them, grabbing under one of her arms and helping Jaren move her to dry sand. Once she was away from the tide, we laid her down gently, straightening her body out. Jaren leaned over her, pressing his ear to her lips as I hurried to bring Andy to us.
I threw his arm over my shoulder, helping him to stand. As we moved to safety, away from the ocean’s lapping tongue, I checked him for injuries as best I could in the small amount of light I’d been given. He was completely drenched, his hands pruney. Was that from the ocean or the rain? I put a hand to his head, brushing his hair back when we reached the dry sand, standing just a few steps from Jaren, who was working tirelessly performing CPR he hadn’t taken lessons on in twenty years. To my surprise, he seemed to remember it, his years of lifeguard training in college paying off well.
We watched in silence as he pounded rhythmically on her chest, pausing to blow breaths into her mouth every few pumps. I needed to do something—to ask Andy what happened, to call for help, but I was frozen in fear.
Did I want to know what happened?
Had Andy done something awful?
How could I even think that?
After a few minutes, Jaren stopped, his head hung low, arms dropped to his sides. Rain dripped from his hair onto the sand. “Is she…” I trailed off. It was too hard to say. Besides, I already knew the answer.
He nodded, not looking at me. “She’s gone. I’m sorry, Andy.”
A scream erupted from Andy, causing me to jump back with shock. He pushed away from me, falling to his knees beside her body. “She can’t be…no. She can’t be.” He pounded on her chest and blew into her mouth over and over, copying what Jaren had done, but he was doing it all wrong.
“Andy…” I leaned down, trying to stop him. Jaren leaned across her body, forcing him to stop. He was protecting her.
“You’re going to damage her body even more,” Jaren screamed. “You aren’t helping her, Andy. You can’t help her.” His tone was strong, in command. “You have to stop. We need to get help—call Manu, get the police. There’s nothing we can do for her anymore. I’m sorry. She’s gone.”
Andy stopped fighting against Jaren’s arms, his shoulders dropping as he sobbed silently.
“Andy, what happened?” I asked, dropping to my knees and pulling him toward me. He leaned his head into my shoulder stiffly, remaining silent. “Andy, talk to us. What happened?” I demanded, stroking his hair. I needed answers. I needed to know what to say when people asked. “We have to go get help.” I lifted his head to look at me. “Is there anything we need to know before we do?”
His face contorted with disbelief. “What are you talking about?”
“Andy, you know we’ll protect you,” Jaren said, and I was so thankful he was backing me up finally. “If we need to know something before we get the police involved, you can tell us.”
He backed up. “What are you—I didn’t do this. You know I didn’t do this.”
“Of course not,” I said, trying to pull him back to me. “Of course not.” It was a stupid thought, but it was there. It’s always the husband. Boyfriend in this case.
“Go get help,” I whispered to Jaren as Andy fell back over Emily, giving in to his sobs. “I’ll stay with him.”
Jaren started to move, but stopped, his jaw tight. “Let me stay. You go.”
“I—” Was he worried about me? Lighting struck, lighting up the sky momentarily, and I heard thunder rumble in the distance.
“Don’t argue,” he said. “Go.” When I stood, he added, “And wake up Nick or Brad. I don’t want you walking across the beach at night alone. Especially not in this storm.”
I nodded, fear taking root in my bones at his words.
Was I in danger? Were we all?
What happened to Emily?
What was going to happen to the rest of us?
Chapter Twenty
Laura
“Wake up,” a voice called. Someone was shaking me in my sleep. “Laura, get up.”
I opened my eyes. Something’s happened to the girls.
Brad was staring at me, standing on my side of the bed, worry plaguing his expression. “Get up.” He knows. I’d changed clothes when I got home, hidden away all the evidence. How could he know? Maybe it was the girls after all.
“What’s wrong? What happened?” I sat up, throwing the cover away from me and searching for my phone before realizing it wasn’t there.
“Something’s going on outside. Put on your shoes.” He walked away from the bed and toward the door, already dressed. The floors beside the windows were soaked, and I noticed, for the first time, the sounds of the rain hitting our roof. It was still storming. Harder now than when I’d made it home. How long had I been asleep? I glanced at the time. It couldn’t have been more than an hour, and yet it felt like I’d been sleeping for days. I moved to the windows, shutting them quickly, drying my hands on my clothes.
“What are you talking about?” I grabbed my flip flops from under the edge of the bed and slid them on, hopeful he wouldn’t question why my hair was already wet. I cursed myself for trusting that we’d sleep through the night, that my hair would be dry by morning. Even with so much on my mind, I should’ve pulled it up in a bun or something. My thick hair retained water for hours once wet. If he asked, what excuse did I have? I’d gone for a walk? I’d taken a middle of the night shower?
He was staring out the open sliding glass door, the worry on his face bringing me back to reality. There were more important things than my own panic. “What is it? Do you see anything?”
“Natasha’s outside talking to Nick. They seem upset.” He slid the door the rest of the way open as my blood ran cold and I rushed forward.
No.
“Brad, wait!” I moved quickly, trying to stop my husband from discovering whatever it was he was about to discover—there were too many possibilities. Had Natasha found out? Had Nick told her? “Brad, stop! Please! Wait!”
He didn’t stop, though. Didn’t wait. Not when I reached the door, not when I hurried down the porch, my flip flops slowing me down as I reached the sand. The rain slapped my face, blurring my vision as I tried to keep up. I bent over and pulled my shoes off, tossing them back onto the porch and hurrying behind him. “Brad!” I screamed, no regard for the fact that Andy and Emily should’ve been sleeping next door.
Natasha and Nick were deep in conversation, oblivious to the storm, and I spied Megan standing beside Nick, her arms crossed and a sour expression on her face. What was happening? What did they know?
Brad reached them before I did, and I struggled with whether to speed up or slow down. As I grew nearer, I noticed the distraught expression on Natasha’s face.
“What happened?” I asked, pulling her into a hug as soon as I reached the group, not bothering to wait for an answer. She never cried, never worried, so if she was upset, something was very, very wrong.
Nick’s expression was washed clean of emotion, raindrops dripping from his hair and clothes. Megan looked as though she were going to be sick. Natasha wrapped her arms around me, and I realized she was shaking, trembling with sorrow.
“What is it?” I asked again, looking at Nick.
He swallowed, shaking his head.
Why was no one answering me?
Brad cleared his throat finally and spoke the words that would’ve sent me crashing to my knees if Natasha hadn’t had her arms around me.
“It’s Emily. She’s dead.”
My arms dropped from her shoulders, my body suddenly shaking as well, as if I had no control over it. My knees were so weak, I was sure I’d collapse at any moment. “What do you mean she’s dead?”
Natasha pulled away from me, wiping a hand across her face to clear the water, though it had little effect. “She drowned, Laura.” She pointed toward the sea, raging and lapping with fury. “Jaren’s down there with Andy. He really needs us right now, but I have to go get Manu. We need to call the police. It’s bad. Andy’s…it’s not good.”
“Oh my God,” I whispered, unable to form coherent thoughts. Nothing made sense. “How did this happen?”
“We don’t know,” Natasha said. “Andy isn’t talking. He’s just crying, screaming… I’ve never seen him so upset. We heard him screaming. It was what woke us up. Jaren sent me to get Manu, but he wanted me to wake someone up to walk there with me. I was on my way here when Nick walked outside.”
“I heard the screams, too,” Nick explained. “I was coming to see what was happening when I ran into Natasha.”
“We were coming to wake you next,” Natasha said.
“This is terrible,” Megan cried, tears mixing with rain on her cheeks. “Poor Andy.”
“I can go get Manu,” Nick said, not looking at me. “You ladies shouldn’t be on the beach alone. Go down and take care of Andy, okay?” He looked at Megan, who nodded.
“Of course, Nicky. Be careful.” She leaned forward and kissed his cheek, and I inhaled a sharp breath, hoping no one would notice the knee-jerk reaction.
“Want me to go with you?” Brad asked, and my chest tightened. No. Say no.
“No,” Nick said, way too quickly. At least we were on the same page about that. “I’ll be okay. Take care of the girls.” He looked at me briefly, giving a quick nod before spinning around and hurrying across the sand.
Together, we made our way back down toward the ocean’s edge, where I could see Andy and Jaren sitting facing each other over Emily’s lifeless body. Heavy rain came down all around them, but they made no move to shield themselves from it.
How had this happened? It felt like a dream. A nightmare. An impossible tragedy.
How was this possible? I couldn’t catch my breath as tears welled in my eyes.
How had we come to this?
How had so much changed so quickly?
Would Andy ever survive this?
I wrapped my arms through Natasha’s and Megan’s, to comfort them, but also to support myself. I wasn’t sure I could get any closer. It was too much. It was all too much. Jaren sat silently, letting Andy grieve. It was enough to destroy me.
Megan unlatched her arm when we grew closer, crying loudly as she walked over to where Andy sat. She touched his shoulder, and he looked up at her, searching for something only someone as peaceful as she was could give. She took his hand. “Oh, Andy.” He fell into her arms, her face twisted in just as much agony as his was. Together, they cried, and she rubbed his head and whispered softly in his ear. I was thankful for Megan in that moment. More thankful than ever before. She was a warm energy we desperately needed that night. The only warm thing left, it seemed.
I just had to put what had happened with Nick—the fact that I’d betrayed her friendship and my marriage in the worst way—out of my mind for the night.
We sat in silence. Natasha and I gripped on to each other to keep us steady, to keep us standing, while Brad made his way down to sit beside Jaren. No one moved after that. No one seemed to know what to say. I felt like I was going to be sick. Maybe pass out. Maybe both.
“What happened?” Megan asked Andy at one point, through her tears.
He seemed to have no answer.
None of us did.
Minutes passed—maybe hours, maybe lifetimes—before Nick reappeared with Manu. Manu was dressed in white sleep pants and an oversized, short sleeved linen shirt in a different shade of white than his pants. His short hair stood up on one end, near his ear, and he wore glasses, water clinging to their lenses.
There was no greeting, no warm wishes for us that evening. Instead, his face was solemn. He approached us carefully with bare feet and watchful eyes, as if we were the threat.
We stared at him. The only sounds were the roaring of the ocean, the thuds of rain hitting the sand, and the whistling of the wind. He took in the scene, his eyes bouncing between each of us, landing on Emily’s body several times. Finally, he spoke, his voice carrying a heavy weight in the night.
“What happened?”
