Page 50 of More With You

Whirling around in the water, I see Levi come to a sharp halt at the water’s edge. Tangled mangrove roots have his ankle in a natural shackle, holding him there. His right leg sinks deeper into the crumbling earth, until he’s up to his calf in murky water. I can tell he’s trying to decide if it’s worth following me, or if he should just let the water carry me away, where something else will get me.

“I have nothing to do tonight!” Levi shouts, drawing back from the edge. “Let’s see who can wait longer. My money’s on me. Might make myself a cup of coffee. Take a look around your little house.”

He disappears from view and my panic turns to outrage. I don’t want that bastard looking through my things. I don’t want him invading the sanctuary of my cottage. Who does this guy think he is? So what if I’ve treated him like shit in the past? If he wants to be treated nicely, then he shouldn’t act like an entitled prick.

Wading through the reeds I eventually reach the dark sand of the inlet and stagger up the strip to catch my breath. For the first time today, I’m glad it’s warm, and even gladder that the waning daylight hasn’t chased away much of the balmy heat.

Making my way to a block of stone, I sit down and pat my pockets. My phone is in there, and I draw it out, praying for a miracle. It’s supposed to resist water to a certain depth, but I’ve never trusted those claims.

Shaky now, as the adrenaline abandons me, I call Ben.

He picks up on the second ring. “Hey, beautiful. I was just about to drive over. I’ve got something for—”

“Hurry,” I whisper, cutting him off.

His voice changes in a heartbeat. “What’s wrong? Are you okay? Can you talk or is someone there?”

“It’s Levi. He was waiting for me,” I say, my eyes squinting in an attempt to see past the dense trees.

There’s a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line. “I’ll be right there. Stay hidden, if you can.” He pauses. “I’m coming, Summer.”

“Hurry,” I repeat, just as I hear the sound of my porch door slam shut. Did Levi go inside, or has he come back out to hunt me down?

“I’m on my way. I’ll stay on the phone the whole time,” Ben promises, to the accompaniment of movement through whatever part of his parents’ grand mansion he’s in. Judging by the rattle of his breath into the speaker, he’s running.

* * *

I don’t know how much time has passed, when I hear the guttural roar of a motorcycle engine, juddering through the dense silence. My call to Ben got cut off a while ago, but I’m still praying he’s on his way. A headlight knifes through the semi-dark, from the road just beyond the winding, overgrown path that leads away from the inlet. I don’t move. I haven’t moved. It has to be Ben, but the hair-thin chance that it might not be leaves me stuck to the rock.

“Summer?” Ben shouts. “Summer! He’s gone, you can come out!”

Ben…

Hobbling along, willing some sensation to come back into my legs, I scramble up the shallow slope of the inlet and clamber straight over the wooden fence that borders this side of my property. Ignoring the bite of the pins and needles that make my toes curl and every step feel like torment, I run as fast as I can across the garden.

“Ben! Ben, where are you? Are you sure he’s gone!” I scream, in a voice that doesn’t sound like it belongs to me.

As soon as I see Ben on my porch I run straight into the protective circle of his arms. “We have to call the cops,” I choke, struggling to hold myself together.

Ben shakes his head. “No cops. I’ll deal with him; I promise.”

“Ben, this has gone too far.”

“It has and he won’t escape punishment for this,” Ben assures: his tone as bitter as his expression. “I’ll make sure of it. He stepped over the line today. He won’t do it again.”

“How can you be sure?” I ask. “You keep warning him and he keeps showing up.”

“I’m going to do something that I hate doing,” Ben replies, pulling me in even tighter.

“Do I want to know?” A lump of dread forms in my throat. Does he mean what I think he means, or have I had too many potential mafia people at my high stakes table?

He sighs wearily. “I’m going to have to ask my father for a favor. He owes me one.’

“What kind of favor?” I’m too curious not to press the matter.

Ben lifts his gaze. “For a warning that Levi will actually listen to. Nothing scares a little bastard like that so much as getting cut off. One word from my father to his, and he’ll have to… no, it’s too awful to say out loud.”

“What?” I urge.

---