“Well, I haven’t exactly seen her in a few years...”
“Shit... I’m an asshole.”
“Don’t worry about it. It wasn’t just… that. Braden’s dad kind of got most of our friends in the break-up.”
“Your friends went with the loser that ditched you with a kid?” He looked at me with extreme confusion.
“I guess I didn’t have the best kind of friends after all.”
“I’d say so,” he mumbled.
“So, you moved to San Diego?” I asked, hoping to change the subject as quickly as possible.
“Yeah, almost immediately after I saw that tape and figured out who Flores was. Ash hated me for not keeping our daughter safe. Hell, I hated me. It hurt to be around one another, and almost a month after you guys disappeared, we knew it was over between us. I think Kate was really the only thing keeping us together anyway. Once she was gone... what was the point?”
“That’s so sad.”
“That’s what happens when you get married just because you got a girl pregnant.” I sighed heavily. “I sound like a total asshole, especially since... she’s not even here anymore.”
“No, I just think you’re being honest,” I said, trying to console him. “At least you didn't ditch her.”
“I loved Ash, but I wasn’t in love with her. Corniest fucking line ever, but I think it’s appropriate.”
I don’t know why but that made me chuckle. It was all so sad, but at the same time he still had this great outlook about himself.
“So, no luck in San Diego,” I stated. It wasn’t a question because obviously he hadn’t found us.
“No luck where it counted, I guess. I did run across Flores a handful of times, but I could never get close enough to pinpoint where he lived.”
“I don’t think it would have mattered. We were on some kind of weird island. With all of his guys, it would have been impossible to access it.” My words must have stunned him because his fork froze midway to his mouth and then he let it clatter to the plate below. I watched as he used one hand to push away from the table and walk out of the room.
“Okay...” I said to myself. That was strange.
Lane quickly returned to the room with determination in his eyes. Under his unrestricted arm, he carried a silver laptop.
“Those two are passed out in there. I think they’re in some kind of food coma,” he chuckled under his breath while placing the laptop on a small, cleared spot of the table.
I watched as he typed away on the computer in front of him. The lines on his forehead creased with purpose. He looked so stern in that moment and I couldn’t help but laugh. His face was filled with such severe emotions that it took him a second to wipe it away as he looked up at me in question.
“So serious,” I grunted, trying to imitate his stern face.
He laughed softly and returned to his typing with less concern etched into his eyes. I stood up and began moving the plates back to the rolling cart. I had taken a few bites of my food, but I just didn’t have a very big appetite. Lane pulled the chair I had been sitting in next to him and patted it, indicating he wanted me to rejoin him.
“Where were you guys?” he questioned.
I looked at his screen and saw that he had pulled up a Google map. Wow, those sure had advanced in the last four years.
“I didn’t exactly have a GPS or anyone around who would tell me where we were. Sorry.” I felt terrible that I couldn’t help, but I didn’t really want to focus on where we had been. My only concern was where we would be going now.
I watched the little map as he zoomed in and out of the area around Tijuana. Something hit me as soon as I saw the leg of land that extended south of the United States.
“Oh! Once we reached land off the island, it took us three hours to drive into San Diego.” I gave him the only piece of information I could remember that could possibly be valuable.
“Shit, that’s extremely helpful, babe.” He immediately began clicking things on the computer, but I remained frozen by that last word. Babe. Nickname or pet name? It had flowed off of his tongue so easily, but his excitement had added a bit of heat to it. Surely, I was overthinking it. Babe.
“I believe you guys might have been on Isla Montague. The distance seems about right, but there are virtually no pictures of this place. Which I guess would make sense...” He began rambling and I figured it was more to himself than me, because once again, I didn’t want to talk about where I had been. But something else occurred to me that might be helpful.
“The house was right next to a lighthouse, which definitely didn’t work anymore. I saw that thing every night out my window and it never turned on.”
He pushed the computer in my direction and pointed to a picture on the screen. “Was this the lighthouse?” I stared at the beat-up, old, square-shaped building that had always towered over me. I’d daydreamed about climbing up to the top of that thing many times. I just wanted to know what it would feel like to have the wind blowing in my face from that high up. One time, the thought of what it would feel like to fall to the earth from the top had entered my mind. I’d quickly chased it away with a series of jumping jacks and sit-ups, but that nasty little thought always had a way of getting in my mind when I was feeling the most stir-crazy.
“Yep.” I couldn’t look at it anymore.
“This place looks like it’s just a bunch of sand and dirt. No houses, or at least none that I can find pictures of.”
I stood from my chair and walked toward the window. “That picture has to be old. There’s a house there now. A very big one. The walls are the color of sand so maybe it blends in well. I don’t know...” My voice had begun to take on a panicked tone, and I could feel my chest closing in on my lungs. Seeing that damn lighthouse made me feel as if I were stuck in that room again. “I just...” Deep breath in. “Don’t see the need to look at those pictures.” Deep breath out.
Where had all the air in the room gone? Was I the only one that couldn’t seem to find the oxygen? In. Out. In. Out. I glanced back at Lane, who appeared to be breathing just fine. My lungs began to squeeze with an excruciating tightness, and all I could see was that damn lighthouse.
I sprang for the sliding glass door and threw it open. The balcony was small, but it had plenty of fresh air to spare. And no lighthouses in sight. Hopefully, it wasn’t lighthouses in general that brought this out in me—just that one. My hands gripped the railing until my knuckles turned a sickly pale color.
Deep breath in.
Deep breath out.
Two hands extended out on either side of me and grabbed the railing inches away from my own hands. I felt his heat behind me, but we didn’t touch.
“Hey, breathe. You’re okay. I’m sorry,” he whispered in my ear soothingly, as if I were about to jump over the side. “I’m sorry. That was too early for you. I just got a little eager.”
“It’s not your fault. I just don’t want to ever see that again.”
“You won’t. I promise.”
I wondered at his words. What did he mean? Promise was a powerful word. Was he promising to always keep me safe from those people? Surely not. Or was it an empty promise, meaning that I was here now and they wouldn’t get me again? God forbid. I wouldn’t survive it again.
“Why do you care where we were? We’re here now.”
“Because I intend for them all to pay,” he practically growled.
I nodded my head in silence, because what else was there to say? He was mad that they had taken his daughter from him. I didn’t think there was any way in talking him out of his need for justice. In a way, I thought we deserved it.