Accidental Shield (Marriage Mistake #6)(45)

“He’s a lucky kid,” I tell him with a sigh.

“Want to sit down?” he asks.

I look at him slowly, gnawing my lip. It’s like a change in air pressure in the space between us.

We’d been so comfortable around each other before, when I thought we were married. but now...

Now it just feels stifling. Neither of us knows what to say or how to be.

“Fine,” I say, awkwardly second-guessing my choice of words. “I mean, sure.”

He looks at me, and I can feel his sadness as well as my own.

“I’m sorry for all this shit, Val. I wish I’d done better.”

“Me, too, Flint. I get why you had your reasons.”

I walk beside him to where he has a towel laid out on the sand.

I sit down on it, digging my butt into the comforting warmth of the beach, and say, “You can go back in the water, too, if you want. I’ll just sit here and watch.”

“Is that what you want?” he asks.

Whatever else I’ve learned about him, I know he’ll do what I ask, if he thinks he’s helping me. “It’d be a shame for you and Bryce to waste such a beautiful afternoon. I just need some sun.”

And some space, I almost add, but keep my mouth shut. There’re too many feelings to even try to process.

“Okay. Be back soon.”

He starts walking away and my gaze drifts out to sea. A few lazy white sailboats bob in the distance, probably tourist ships or rich locals out for sun and wind. In the island life, you’re never far from a beautiful sunset or a fortifying breeze.

Normally, it’s enough to banish your worries, your fears, your defeats. I wish I was so lucky.

Flint is almost out of earshot when I see Savanny, flicking his tail at the sand and licking one paw. “Flint?”

He turns and looks at me.

I point to the cat, who’s taken another step toward the water, watching Bryce intently. “Will you carry Savanny back to play?”

He looks at the cat and smiles. “Gotcha. Never seen a cat who loves the water like a frigging monk seal, but this one sure does.”

“He likes being with people,” I say. “He’s gone everywhere with me ever since I got him. I’m sure I took him out on boat rides many times.”

A frown pulls at my lips as my mind flashes to orange flame, churning water, me screaming for Savanny through this dark, fierce chaos. It makes me cringe.

“You okay?” Flint asks.

I nod glumly, but then ask, “Do you know the men after me?”

He shakes his head. “Not personally. They were wearing the symbols of a local group, though. Real shady assholes.”

“Do you know why they’re after me? What they want?”

He looks at me intently for a moment, then says, “You didn’t do anything. Let me carry Savanny out to Bryce, then I’ll come back and tell you what I do know.”

I nod, watching him walk over to the cat. Flint shouts to Bryce, who turns his paddleboard around and moves closer to shore. Flint picks up Savanny and carries him into the water, and I notice his back then.

Scars. Terrible ones, round and glinting in the sun, as if he’d laid on something scalding hot a long time ago.

Only, they seem too deliberate, too orderly to be from an accident.

God. Did...did someone do this to him?

He sets Savanny on the front of Bryce’s board. The cat sprawls out and holds his head up like he’s turned into the figurehead on the bow of a boat.

It’s so silly it makes me smile.

Just for a second, I’m able to forget what I saw.

Then my stomach churns again. King Heron Fishing.

That’s why those men are after me. Something to do with my family’s company.

Whatever it is, it’s bad. I place both palms on my temples and press down. Something has to help me remember.

“Need another pain pill, Val?” Flint’s voice. He’s back.

I blink, opening my eyes.

I shake my head. “No, just trying to remember.”

“Don’t.” He sits down beside me. “Cash warned you not to stress, and you’ve been through the wringer today no thanks to my lying ass.”

I drop my hands.

“Yeah, about that...can we stop being vague?” I instantly feel guilty about snapping at him. It’s not his fault. “Look, I’m sorry. It’s just so maddening. Almost like I can sense how a memory made me feel, but I can’t hold on to the finer parts. I can’t remember it, not entirely. Does that make sense?”

“Sure. Like when you get a whiff of something, cologne or bacon, say. You just know it reminds you of somebody or something, but you can’t always pin it down.”

“Exactly.” I sigh. “That’s my brain on amnesia.”

“Sounds fucking rough,” he growls, a sincerity in his tone that makes me feel weirdly appreciated.

Sighing again, I prop my hands on the towel and lean back. “It’s my family, isn’t it? They have something these people want. It has to do with King Heron.”

“That’s what I’ve gathered, yeah. You remember anything else?”

“No. It’s just a hunch at this point.”

“I’ve been looking into it. Trying to follow up on leads with Cash, but I haven’t uncovered much.” He puts his arms behind him and stretches, looking way too much like a regal lion in the sun.