A Stranger on the Beach(70)

Nothing happened. I sat there shaking.

A raft of rain sluiced against the windows, so powerful that I jumped.

I strained my ears, too terrified to move. Far below, I heard a cry. Then I realized—Aidan had gone after Jason instead. I’d left my husband alone and unarmed, at the mercy of my stalker and his gun. Jason only showed up here because of my message, begging him to come out to the beach and help me protect the house. Despite the shaky state of our marriage, he’d driven through a hurricane to answer my call. Now I was hiding out in the relative safety of this room while Aidan hunted him down like an animal. Aidan was in our lives, and in this house, only because of my weakness. If he shot Jason—God forbid, if he killed him—I’d have blood on my hands. Jason’s death would be on my conscience for the rest of my life.

The kitchen knife I’d brought with me from the city sat on the top of the dresser. Aidan must have moved it from the bedside table while I slept to keep it from my reach. They say don’t bring a knife to a gunfight. But the knife was all I had. I clutched it close and pressed my ear to the door. I could hear the squalling of wind and crashing of surf outside my windows; but nothing to tell me where Aidan was. Of course, it was possible his silence was a fake-out. That he was standing right outside this door waiting for me to walk into his trap. I might do that. Not because I was stupid, but because I wasn’t a coward, or selfish enough to let my husband march to slaughter without trying to save him.

I held my breath and turned the lock, listening. Still, nothing but the wind, which seemed to be intensifying, if that was even possible. Knife poised, I crept out to the landing, every nerve tense with fear, expecting to get jumped any second. But Aidan didn’t come. He wasn’t up here. He and Jason must both be downstairs, yet I couldn’t hear them.

A powerful blast of wind shook the walls. The house shifted and creaked with every gust, as if it would collapse in on itself. I wondered if the glass in the windows would hold. Outside, all was darkness. Inside, the lights flickered and dimmed and then brightened again. With the next gust, they went out completely. We’d lost power for the second time at just the wrong moment.

I stole down the stairs in my bare feet, hugging the wall. I couldn’t quiet my ragged, terrified breathing, and prayed it faded into the deafening wind. I tiptoed into the living room. Earlier tonight, I’d turned on the gas fireplace. Its glowing light suffused the first floor, throwing off shadows that played tricks on my eyes. They were here somewhere, they had to be. But my senses were on such high alert that every piece of furniture seemed like a mortal threat.

Outside the terrace doors, moonlight shone eerily behind the clouds, lighting the sky over the ocean. The world was a writhing mass, with debris swirling in the blinding rain. A movement drew my eye. I watched openmouthed as a tree branch came sailing toward the terrace doors like a torpedo. Glass exploded everywhere, and suddenly the raging wind was inside the house. The tree branch sat on my beautiful floors as water poured in around it. I reeled back, right into Aidan’s grasp.

I was too shocked to fight. In a second, he’d stripped the knife from my hand and twisted my arm painfully behind my back. The tip of my own knife was poised against my throat as I cowered, cursing myself for letting down my guard.

“I came down here, and he was gone,” Aidan said, raising his voice to be heard over the ruckus of the storm. “Fucking coward. He ran. He doesn’t give a shit about you, Caroline. Now you’re gonna pay for choosing him over me.”

He dragged me back toward the stairs. I went limp as a rag doll, dragging my feet on the floor, using my body weight to stop him.

“Move,” he said, and punched me in the side.

I cried out in pain. From the corner of my eye I saw a movement. Not debris—it was Jason, running. But not toward us, around the stairs, so he could come up from behind. Aidan saw him, too, and whirled. While he was distracted, I grabbed for the knife. The blade sliced deep into the flesh of my palm, burning like acid. I screamed, long and shrill, and Aidan let go of me. He dropped the knife and kicked it across the room, so I couldn’t get to it. Just then, the wind hit mercilessly, and what was left of the terrace doors flew open, flapping and banging. I stumbled toward them. But the wind was so powerful that it pushed me back into the house. The storm was all around me. Water and wind and pieces of trees flying through the air. I could barely breathe from the force of it pressing down on me.

A strange calm settled over the house. The wind died down completely, and the rain stopped with the suddenness of a faucet shutting off. Time seemed to stop, as I turned to see Aidan and Jason, struggling over the gun.

In the eerie silence, a shot rang out, deafening and final. Jason grunted and crumpled to the floor. Thick crimson blood blossomed on his shirt and spread in a shiny pool out from his body. I saw the light fade from in his eyes, and in that moment, I realized how much I loved him, and how I would live the rest of my life in the horror of this moment. A scream that I couldn’t imagine was inside me rose into the air.

“Shut up,” Aidan said. “This was your idea. You wanted it.”

“No,” I whispered, and I was sobbing.

I tried to kneel beside my husband, but Aidan shoved me away.

“Yes, you did. You said you wanted him dead.”

“I did not. I never said that.”

“Try telling that to the cops. You’re in the middle of a divorce. You wanted all the money. You’re the one with the motive to shoot him, not me. I only did what you asked.”