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.