Harbor Street (Cedar Cove #5)(98)

“That’s not true!” But Anson wasn’t listening.

“I don’t want to drag you down, too,” he said.

“Don’t say that,” she argued hotly, furious that he’d say it about himself. “You’re not a loser. You’re not.” She suspected he was just repeating what his mother had told him all his life.

“Your dad’s a good guy,” he said. “Thank him for me, all right?” He started to turn away.

“Don’t go.” She leaned out of the window and grabbed for him. She would’ve fallen onto the ground if Anson hadn’t caught her. Once she was in his embrace, practically dangling from the window, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. At first he resisted and attempted to shove her away. But soon he was returning her kisses. Then, apparently reaching some decision, he tore his mouth from hers and pulled back.

“Please,” she begged. “Come in so we can talk about this properly. Don’t walk away from me—not like this.”

Reluctantly he nodded. While he climbed in through the bedroom window, Allison found her thick fleece housecoat and put it on. Shivering, still shaking with cold, she tied the sash around her waist.

Anson sat on the end of her bed, his head lowered. “Nothing you say is going to change my mind.”

“You love me,” she whispered, kneeling on the floor in front of him. “Don’t deny it, because I know it’s true.”

He closed his eyes, a tortured expression on his face. “I shouldn’t have come,” he muttered. She suspected he said it more for his own benefit than hers.

She placed her hands over his. “I’m so grateful you did. You can’t leave me. I won’t let you.” She got to her feet. “If you go, then I’m going with you.” There was no alternative, she decided, no other choice. “Wherever you go, that’s where I want to be.”

“No.” The word was chilling in its intensity.

“Anson, you’ve got to listen to me. This is all because of what happened at The Lighthouse, isn’t it?”

He refused to answer, refused to look at her.

“My dad believes you. I believe you. Doesn’t that mean anything?”

He seemed to think about it, then shook his head. “Don’t you see? This is how it is—everything I touch turns to dust. I thought it’d be different with you, but it’s not. I’m getting out of here before I screw up your life, too.” He scrambled to his feet and started for the window.

“But you don’t know where you’re going,” she said in a hoarse whisper. Then she remembered something else. “You can’t leave,” she told him. “You’ll be breaking the terms of your plea bargain. You have to stay in school, remember?”

“I was supposed to have a job, too.”

“Yes, but—”

Anson shook his head again. “It’s too late to worry about that. If they find me now, I’ll probably get jail time. I’m out of here.”

A dozen questions rose at his response. She didn’t ask a single one because she was afraid of the answers. “What will you do for money?”

He turned back and gave a harsh laugh.

“Anson?” She’d never heard him sound like that before, and it frightened her. Her stomach knotted as she realized there was a reason Anson had chosen to leave Cedar Cove tonight. “What have you done?” she whispered.

“It’s better if you don’t know.” His eyes softened as he looked at her one last time. “Goodbye,” he whispered, stretching out his hand to touch her face.

“No!” She hurried to the window, but he was too fast. He moved with an agility that belied his size. “How will I know where to reach you?” she called out as he walked across the grass.

Anson didn’t answer. His hands were buried deep inside his pockets, his shoulders bent. She stayed where she was until she lost sight of him, and in her heart she knew she’d never see him again. Eventually the tears came, flooding her eyes and rolling down her cheeks. She closed the window and crawled back into bed.

Allison didn’t fall asleep for hours. Her pillow was damp with tears when she woke Saturday morning, again to the sound of knocking—but this time it was someone pounding at her bedroom door.

“Allison,” her mother said, opening the door. “It’s after ten.”

She sat up in bed and rubbed her eyes. She often slept in on the weekends.

“There’s someone here who wants to talk to you.”

Her first thought was that it might be Anson, but she realized that it wouldn’t be.

“Who?”

“It’s Sheriff Davis.” Her mother’s expression was serious, and Allison’s stomach immediately tensed.

“Why does he want to see me?” Even though she asked, she knew the answer. This had to do with Anson.

“Your father’s talking to the sheriff now. I suggest you get dressed right away and join us.”

Allison nodded and although she appeared outwardly calm, her heart clamored hard. This was what she’d feared most—that Anson would get into trouble again.

By the time she’d put on jeans and a sweatshirt and brushed her hair, Allison was shaking. Whatever Anson had done, if he was caught, it would mean the fire in the park would now be part of his permanent record. It also meant her father would never allow her to see him again.