Cars buzzed by as we sat there in silence. I hadn’t given her details, but I felt like I’d pulled back the curtain. I felt vulnerable and exposed, but also relieved. I was tired of not being me and regardless of how veiled the information was, a small part of me felt good about revealing myself.

“I’m sorry,” Bella finally said.

“It’s okay,” I said. “But you have to trust me if you want my help.”

“That’s not what I meant,” she said.

I turned from the water. Her eyes had softened, sympathy etched into the lines in her face, all directed at me.

“I meant that whatever happened to you,” she said, touching my arm. “Whatever hurt you. Whoever hurt you. I’m sorry.”

I nodded and turned back to the water. “I’m fine.”

TWENTY-SEVEN

We picked up Jackson at the restaurant and both he and Bella came to the beach with me. I knew she was nervous about going home and I didn’t want to leave her alone, just in case I was wrong about the frat boys going to David. I didn’t think that I was, but I didn’t want to leave it to chance. I couldn’t discount the fact that I’d been out of the game for a few months and my instincts probably weren’t as sharp as they needed to be to make sure she was protected.

They found a spot a few yards from the shed and settled in as I unpacked chairs and umbrellas. An hour later, I was rented out for the day, the tourists making up for lost time with the poor weather the day before. The sun was brilliant against the blue sky, not a single cloud on the horizon. I locked the shed back up and sat down on the towel next to Bella.

“He’s making a city,” she said. She lounged on her towel, propped on her elbows, her eyes on Jackson.

Jackson was covered in sand, scurrying around at light speed, using buckets and spoons to create his imaginary land.

“Think he’s gonna be an architect,” I said.

She smiled and nodded. “Maybe so.”

We sat there in silence, watching him create, letting the sun beat down on us. I knew she was waiting for me to explain and the longer she sat silent, the harder it became to keep it from her. Or maybe I just needed an excuse to let it all out.

“Her name was Liz,” I said. “And she’s dead.”

The words didn’t sound right coming out of my mouth and I couldn’t remember the last time I’d spoken her name.

Bella turned to me, hugged her knees to her chest and didn’t say anything.

“And it was my fault,” I said. The water blurred in front of me.

I don’t know how long I talked for or if all of it made sense. Words came out of my mouth in a rush, snagging on my tongue, stinging my lips. I lost sight of the water and Jackson and the sand.

All I could see was Liz.

At some point, the words stopped coming and I stopped talking. Things came back into focus and Bella was closer to me, her hand on my arm, tears running down her cheeks. Down mine, too.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “So sorry, Noah.”

I nodded. “Me, too.”

“I don’t know what else to say.”

“There isn’t anything to say,” I said. “I just wanted you to know. I didn’t want you wondering.”

But I knew the truth was that she’d still be wondering. There were still blanks that needed filling in, even if she didn’t ask. Even if the story made sense, she’d still have questions about me.

And I knew that my time in Fort Walton was now running out.

“The guy the other night,” she said. “Is he somehow involved?”

I glanced at her, surprised. “Not involved, but he knows me. How you’d know?”

“You were spooked,” she said. “It was pretty obvious.”

“He surprised me.”

“Good guy?”

“No.”

“So you’re worried.”

“Worried isn’t the right word. I’m not sure there is a word.”

We watched Jackson scamper down to the edge of the water and rinse his hands.

“I shouldn’t have dumped all of my shit on you,” she said. “You have enough going on.”

“You didn’t dump anything on me.”

“Yeah, I did. I saw you and saw someone who might be able to help,” she said. “I told you no, but I really wanted your help. And when Jackson took to you…I absolutely wanted your help.”  She sighed. “And probably more.”

“I can help,” I said. “But I can’t give you more. I’m sorry. Has nothing to do with you. I hope you realize that.”

“I do,” she said. “I didn’t an hour ago, but I do now.”  She smiled. “So thank you for telling me. It helps me. I’m sorry it doesn’t help you.”

I dug my fingers into the sand, lifted up my hand and let the sand fall back to the ground. “It did, I think. I needed to tell someone.”  I hesitated. “And I trust you.”

“Good,” she said, squeezing my arm. “You can. Trust me.”

For the first time in a long time, I felt like I really could trust someone.

TWENTY-EIGHT

Bella insisted on going home with Jackson by herself. I offered to go with her, but she wouldn’t hear it.

“I’m not going to live in fear,” she said, throwing the sandy towels into the trunk of her car. “I want out.”

“Check the house before you take him in,” I said, nodding at Jackson in the backseat. “Just make sure nothing looks weird. Anything is off, drive right back to my house. But I really think it’ll be okay.”

She took a deep breath. “Right. Okay. And we really need to get you a phone.”

I shook my head. “I can’t have my name on anything.”

“Let me worry about it,” she said. She gave me a quick hug and opened the driver’s door. “We might come check on you tonight.”

“Okay.”

She slid into the driver’s seat and I watched them turn out of the lot and head up the highway toward the bridge.

I collected the umbrellas and chairs, locked up the shed and left the stragglers on the beach.

The breeze picked up as I crossed the highway, providing a little relief from the brutal late day sun. Heat radiated off the asphalt, blurry waves rafting upwards. As I stepped onto the sidewalk and headed for the cul-de-sac, I felt good for the first time in I wasn’t sure how long.

It felt good to talk about Liz. I didn’t have to lock her away. And I wasn’t paranoid about telling Bella my story, wasn’t worried that it was going to backfire on me. I wasn’t looking at her with the same sideways glance I’d viewed everyone else through for the last few months. It was a relief to let down my guard. I knew it wasn’t permanent, but the temporary respite felt good.

But as I turned into the cul-de-sac towards the house and saw Zip at the curb, the respite melted away, replaced with paranoia and fear.

Zip was leaning on a motor scooter, cigarette hanging out of the corner of his mouth. His eyes were fixated on the phone in his hands, his thumbs typing away. He didn’t notice me until I was at the end of the drive.

“Hey, Noah,” he said, grinning and shoving the phone in the pocket of his shorts. “What’s up?”

“Why are you here?” I asked.

“Just came to see what you were up to,” he said, shrugging.

“Just getting off work,” I said.

“You weren’t there yesterday,” he said and gestured at my face. “And looks like you had a little accident.”

“I took the day off. You come looking for me yesterday, too?”

“Yeah, at the beach.”

“You need an umbrella or something?”

He laughed, sucked on the cigarette and exhaled the smoke in a dirty little cloud. “Ha. No. Just checking up on you.”

“I don’t need to be checked up on, Zip,” I said.

“I didn’t say you did.”

“If you want something from me, you need to ask for it,” I said. “I’m done with the small talk.”

He shrugged again, his eyes widening. “I can’t just check in on an old friend?”

“We weren’t friends.”

“Yeah, but here we are, in Florida, neither of us knows anyone else,” he said. “I thought we could hang out.”