“You have to go,” Lindsay said. “Come on.”
Mark blinked and then his eyes grew wide when he began to understand what she was saying.
“I can’t,” Mark said. “I can’t open the window. You’ll have to break it.”
What? Why couldn’t he open the window? Lindsay didn’t understand, but she had no time to question him. She looked around the sand until she found a good-sized rock. Gripping it tightly, she smashed the glass near the lock, reached in, and unlatched the frame. She slid open the window and waited for Mark to climb out.
But he didn’t move.
“Get out of there!” Lindsay said, her voice trembling with desperation.
“Give me the rock,” Mark whispered.
“What are you talking about?”
“Just give it to me.”
Lindsay did as he asked, anxious for him to get moving. With a high toss, the stone flew through the window and into Mark’s hand.
Behind him, the door slammed open. Jack stood on the threshold. Before the door even crashed against the wall, he was already shouting gibberish at Mark, waving his hands in the air like a stage magician trying to sell a trick.
A tiny smile pushed up the corners of Mark’s mouth. He spun and hurled the rock at Jack. It connected solidly with the burly man’s forehead. Jack’s eyes rolled up. He staggered, then fell over the threshold into Mark’s room, hitting the floor facedown.
“Bastard,” Mark spat.
He stepped forward and reached out a hand toward the opening to the hall. He snatched his fingers back when they reached the threshold. He tried again. Mark shoved his hand into the doorway as if testing the air, wiggled his fingers.
“Thanks, pal,” he said to the unconscious form of Jack. Then he stepped out of the room.
Lindsay jogged along the house to meet Mark at the porch. When she rounded the corner, Mark was already standing on the sand in front of her. Startled by his speed, Lindsay jumped a bit. Then Mark’s arms went around her in a tight hug that nearly cut off her breath.
“I can’t believe you did this for me,” he said. “Thank you. Thank you.”
Lindsay’s legs grew weak, and she fell against Mark, letting his strength hold her up. He felt so good next to her; he felt absolutely perfect. She didn’t want the embrace to end, but it had to end. He needed to get away from this house and this beach, and he needed to do it fast.
“You have to go,” she whispered, feeling so sad she could barely finish the sentence.
“I don’t think I’ll make it very far,” Mark said, sounding terribly weak.
“You have to try.”
“They hurt me pretty bad,” he said. “My back.”
“We have to get you someplace safe,” Lindsay told him.
“You’ll go with me?” he asked.
“I’ll get you someplace safe,” she said, burying her face in his neck, holding him as tightly as her arms would allow.
14
The sand squished under her feet as she helped Mark across the beach. At first Lindsay suggested they walk along the road so he could hitchhike, but Mark thought they might be spotted, perhaps by his guardians. Lindsay knew he was right.
When they reached the trailer park, Lindsay saw a festive afternoon was in full swing. Adults barbecued, drank beer, talked, and laughed. Kids played on the sand near the water, throwing footballs and playing tag with the waves, chasing them out and dashing away when the surf came in.
Mark stopped and tightened his grip around Lindsay’s shoulder. He leaned down and quietly spoke in her ear.
“I can’t believe you got me out. I can’t believe it. It feels and smells and tastes so good out here. I want to do and see everything all over again.”
They made their way through the encampment. Mark tried to smile and wave at the happy people enjoying their time on the beach. But he was leaning on her heavily for support. He was trying to make it look like they were a young couple in love. Lindsay tried to do the same, but with all of these strange eyes on her, she was worried. She kept her head down and to the side, as if in shame, nestling her cheek against Mark’s chest as she guided him to the other side of the trailer park.
At the point where the beach turned rocky, Mark paused. He turned to Lindsay and kissed her.
His soft lips pushed against hers, sending electric tingles through her body. This is the kiss, Lindsay thought. All of the other kisses in her life were bland and meaningless compared to this.
They held each other tightly, mouths joined, bodies fitting together perfectly like two puzzle pieces. Lindsay’s head was light with passion. She felt like she was floating, or rather flying, and Mark was the one making it happen. In his arms she felt safe and alive and happy. So happy.
Mark pulled away from her, smiling. “I’m starving,” he said. “Those guys haven’t fed me in like two days.”
Lindsay put the blue gym bag on the sand and unzipped the side compartment. She dug inside and retrieved an energy bar. Proudly she presented it to him.
Mark snatched it from her hand and tore into it. Once his mouth was filled with half an energy bar, his eagerness dimmed. He looked embarrassed. “Sorry,” he said. “I’m just really hungry.”
“Are they okay?” Lindsay asked. “I didn’t really know what to get.”
“They’re great,” Mark said. He swallowed hard. “What I really want is a steak. A big bloody steak with about three pounds of French fries. But I guess I won’t be having steak for a while. This is good, though. Thanks.”
He pulled her close for another kiss. She wrapped her arms around him, careful not to rub too hard on his back. She knew the circular wounds there would have to be treated. But she needed to get him safe first. Find someplace where he could hide for the night.
“Where should we go?” she asked once the embrace ended. “I can’t just leave you on the beach.”
“There’s a house on the other side of these rocks. It’s in a private cove. It’s been empty for weeks.”
“How do you know that?” Lindsay asked.
“Oh,” Mark said, his eyes twinkling, “you’d be surprised what I know.”
They stood inside, looking through a window.
Surrounded by high walls of black rock and facing the ocean across a vast, fan-shaped beach, the house was amazing. It was huge and modern, totally gorgeous and completely empty. On the beach side of the house, glass ran from the immaculate marble-tiled floors to the ceiling twenty-five feet above, giving a breathtaking view of the cove, the seething ocean, and the sky. Lindsay and Mark stood before this panorama, arms wrapped around each other’s waists. Lindsay was in awe. She couldn’t even imagine how wonderful the house must have been with furniture, lights, and well-dressed people walking over the floors, which were now frosted with a layer of dust.
“It’s just so beautiful,” Lindsay said. “But how could you have known? You’ve been locked in that house for so long.”
“I heard Jack and Doug talking about it. It was way too expensive for them, but they gave it some serious thought.”
“I can see why.”
“I used to live in a house like this,” he said. “Way up north in New York. The Hamptons. It seems like a hundred years ago. Everyone was just happy and cruel and oblivious.”
“Happy and cruel?” Lindsay asked.
“Happy to own anything they wanted. Happy to do whatever they wanted. Completely cruel to those who had nothing.”
“It sounds terrible.”