Spells for Forgetting(71)

It was crazy. All of it. Me, August, him, Lily.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I watched his face carefully as I asked it.

Dutch sighed. “Em, we talked about this. I thought I was protecting August. I didn’t want to—”

“Not about August. Or the lighthouse,” I interrupted. “About Lily.”

Dutch went rigid, his eyes widening. His hands dropped to his sides and all at once, the color drained from his face. It wasn’t often I caught him by surprise. He could see the turn of my thoughts coming from a mile away. But that look in his eyes now was fear. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he muttered. “He told you.”

“What does it matter who told me? You lied. For years.”

Dutch’s chin jerked to the side. “No, I didn’t. I didn’t tell you, but I didn’t lie.”

“It’s the same thing!” I shouted.

“She didn’t want anyone to know, okay? I didn’t think it was right to tell everyone just because she was dead.” The enunciation of the last word made me shiver.

“You didn’t keep the secret for Lily.”

An emptiness filled his blue eyes, but he didn’t deny it. “You think you knew her, but you didn’t.”

“I did know her. I was her best friend, Dutch.” But I could feel how the meaning of the words had changed since I’d last said them. Dutch wasn’t the only one who’d kept the truth from me. Lily had, too.

“She didn’t tell you about us because she knew you would tell August. And she didn’t want him to know.”

“Why not?

“God, Emery, sometimes you are so…” He thought better of whatever he was going to say. “She was sleeping with me, but she wanted August.”

“No, she didn’t. I would have seen that.”

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you. She wasn’t who you thought she was. She wasn’t who anyone on this island thought she was.”

I gaped at him. He would do anything to keep himself from holding the blame. He would even lie about Lily. “What else are you lying about?”

“Nothing.”

“I don’t believe you.”

The muscle in his jaw ticked. “If I’d told anyone about me and Lily, who do you think they would have been looking at?”

“So you let August take the fall instead.”

“He didn’t take the fall for anything, thanks to me. I covered both our asses when I told Jake we were at the lighthouse.”

“Did you know she was pregnant?” My voice shook unsteadily.

Dutch went still, falling silent for a long moment. “Where did you hear that?”

“Jake. It was in the autopsy report.”

He turned toward the window, eyes skipping over the trees on the other side of the glass. He hadn’t known.

“Where is the letter?” I asked.

He didn’t answer. His attention was still focused on the woods. The muscles in his neck strained as he swallowed. He looked like he was going to be sick.

“Dutch.”

He blinked. “What?”

“Where is the letter?”

He finally turned back to face me, and when he did, his skin was flushed. “What letter?”

If Dutch was lying now, it was convincing. I could see his mind turning with the question. But I couldn’t risk giving him any more information. Not until I knew what was going on.

“Forget it,” I said, stepping past him.

He grabbed my elbow, stopping me. “Are you serious? That’s it?” His fingers dug into my arm, making me wince. “You just come here to drop that on me and you’re just gone?”

I wrenched free of him. “Don’t touch me.” I spoke through gritted teeth.

We’d stitched ourselves together after everything happened. There was no one who understood what I’d been through like he did. No one who’d known how dark those days and nights had been. But that only made the truth hurt so much worse.

When I said nothing, he looked down at me with utter shock, his expression slowly changing again. “Well done. I guess you finally found your reason.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I snapped.

“That you have never been in this. Not like I have.” His voice rose. “You’ve been looking for a reason to bolt for years. You just didn’t have one.”

The words soured with the knowing. The weary reminder that I had never loved him. But that had never stopped me from letting him pull me into the dark of his bedroom. It had never kept me from trying to soothe the ache that lived inside me after August left. That was on me.





Forty-Two


    AUGUST


The ferry ticket sat on the kitchen counter, staring up at me.

There weren’t many times that Emery had surprised me, but when she asked me to stay, even if just for a night, I’d stopped breathing.

I’d owed her the truth about the fire. About her father and about Lily. But I’d also thought, as the words left my mouth, that it was the last time I’d ever see her. Ever talk to her. I’d secretly hoped that the truth might sever the thing that had tied me to this island and to her forever.