“If I ease up on your neck and take my hand off your mouth, will you cooperate?” I didn't answer, only thrashed against him. “Stormy, come on. Stop. Look, I'll let go of you, but just hear what I have to say. I don't want to have to hurt you. I saw what Phillip did to that fucker's nose. I'd rather things not get physical if they don't have to.” And suddenly the weight was off my neck, the hand was off my mouth, and I was spun around to the impossibly young face of Lee Courtenay.
His eyes shone pale blue under his baseball cap, and he managed a smile that almost looked genuine. His freckles were stark against his flushed cheeks. “I'm sorry for strong-arming you like that,” he said. He managed to look contrite.
I rummaged blindly for my phone. “Why the fuck are you following us? And how dare you put your hands on me!” Where the fuck was my damned phone? Had I left it in the room? I deliberated; could I make a run for it and get past him, or should I stall him, keep him talking? Should I yell for Phillip?
“I'm sorry,” he said. “I have been following you.”
“No shit. Since the day I saw you at the farmers market. Bringing flowers to your aunt – yeah right.”
“My aunt actually does work there,” he said.
I took a step back, my hands clenched into fists. “I'm about two seconds from screaming, Lee. Do you understand me?”
“Okay, Stormy. Calm down.” He held his hands out. “Just let me talk to you for a second and I’ll go, and I won’t bother you again. I swear.”
“Like I’d believe a word you say.”
He rubbed at his brow. For someone with such a babyface, he had a lot of mannerisms that seemed much older, like someone who had seen a lot and was just plain bone-tired. And Lord, was he strong. There was no way I would have been able to get out of his grip if he hadn’t decided to let go. “Stormy, there are…people that aren't too happy with Phillip being...back. Let's put it like that.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“We don’t have time for you to play dumb,” he said, still rubbing at his brow. “I know exactly what and who Phillip is, and I’m the least of your worries. I've been trying to warn you for days, but there's always somebody around who...” he trailed off, rubbing his brow again, then resumed talking. “Now, Phillip can exist peacefully if he doesn't draw too much attention to himself but going back to his stomping grounds is a very bad idea. Like, the opposite of what he should be doing. Traipsing around his old house looking for buried treasure and trying to look up old friends is the opposite of laying low. Better for him – and for you - to get in your truck and head back to Jekyll Island. Keep a low profile, find a way to blend into the scenery.”
“How do you even know that's what he's doing?” I demanded, angry.
“It's pretty obvious, isn't he? Why else would you two be here?” He smiled, not unkindly. “Just tell him to go back to Jekyll for a while. He'll listen to you. If he does that, he'll be left alone.” His face darkened. “If he doesn't, well...nobody wants to die twice, do they? At least not after a measly week.”
“Is that a threat?” My blood felt hot in my veins. I’d rip him apart myself if I had to.
He laughed. “Hell, no. Do you think I could take that guy? I might be strong, but he’s stronger. I'm only the messenger, and I'm just telling him – through you - how it's got to be. If he wants to stay safe and keep you safe.”
“What the fuck does it matter if he goes to see an old friend?”
“Best not to meddle in it, Stormy,” he answered. “You're in enough trouble as it is.”
“Why? And who the hell are you to give me advice?”
“A friend,” he said, his pale eyes looking into mine. “Probably the only one you've got.”
I snorted. “Then I really am in trouble. What kind of friend works with my ex and follows me halfway across the country-”
He scoffed. “Tess? I hate that guy.”
“Oh, well in that case, that changes everything,” I sneered. I was seething. “You ran me off the road. You're lucky we didn't run into the creek. I could have been killed. Some friend. Anyway, I barely fucking know you.”
“I didn't run you off the road,” he said, his eyes wide and perplexed. “Why would I do that?”
“For the same reason you'd rummage through my barn, break into my house, and follow me to a motel and kidnap me from the stairwell.”
He shook his head, two bright spots appearing on his freckled cheeks. “Just give Phillip that message. And it wasn't me that ran you off the road. I swear.”
“The guy I saw in my rearview right before I crashed into the river sure looked a lot like you,” I snapped.
He shook his head, his light eyes still wide, and took a step back, appearing unsure. I took the opportunity and bolted. I didn't need to look back to see if he was following me; I could somehow feel that he wasn't. My heart was beating hard in my chest, and cold sweat collected under my armpits. Whatever Lee might say about not wanting to harm me, I knew that whatever he was mixed up in was no joke. I had to get to Phillip and warn him, fast.
Phillip was oblivious, happily doing laps in the steaming pool, swimming the length with long, measured strokes. Despite my frenzied state, I took a second to just stand there and watch him, in awe of his graceful physicality, the sheer power of him. His arms and legs were impossibly long and lean. I collapsed into a deck chair, still sweating from fear and exertion, and waited for him to get back to my end of the pool, marveling at the almost super-human power he seemed to possess, wrapping the dry towel around my shoulders because I'd forgotten to bring a jacket. I was shaky, my heartbeat wild from my encounter with Lee. Watching Phillip swim was calming, though, as I counted each stroke, his arms coming in and out of the water, the tattoos on his left arm stark in the blue water and the cold steam coming off it. He had many tattoos, most of which I knew about from pictures, a couple of which I didn't. There was the band logo, a serpent on his thigh. But it was the one on his right arm that I'd always wondered about – the number seven, crowned, behind a locked gate, a human skull as the padlock. There was a beam of sunlight streaming down from the heavens, illuminating the numeric figure. It was a strange tattoo, one that fans had spent a lot of time theorizing about, and I made a mental note to ask him how it had come to pass later.
“Coming in?” He'd noticed me sitting there and swam over to the edge of the pool with an eager smile.