In the corner, Zeus rose to his feet and headed toward the window. Thibault turned toward him just as he heard a knock at the door. Instinctively he tensed, but when Zeus peeked through the glass, his tail started to wag.
When Thibault opened the door, he saw Elizabeth standing before him. He froze. For a moment, they simply stared at each other.
"Hi, Logan," she fnally said.
"Hello, Elizabeth."
A tentative smile, so quick as to be almost nonexistent, flashed across her features. He wondered whether he'd imagined it.
"May I come in?"
Thibault stepped aside, studying her as she removed her slicker, her blond hair spilling out of the hood. She held it out uncertainly until Thibault took it from her. He hung it on the front-door knob before facing her.
"I'm glad you came," he said.
She nodded. Zeus nosed her hand, and she stroked him behind the ears before turning her attention to Thibault again.
"Can we talk?" she said.
"If you'd like." He motioned to the couch, and Elizabeth took a seat on one end. He took a seat on the other.
"Why did you give the photo to Ben?" she asked without preamble.
Thibault studied the far wall, trying to figure out how to explain himself without making things even worse. Where to begin?
"Tell me in ten words or less," she suggested, sensing his reticence. "Then we'll go from there."
Thibault massaged his forehead with one hand before sighing, his eyes moving toward her. "Because I thought it would keep him safe."
"Safe?"
"Out at the tree house. The storm has weakened the whole structure, including the bridge. He shouldn't go there again. It's on the verge of collapse."
Her gaze was intense and unblinking. "Why didn't you keep it?"
"Because I felt like he needed it more than me."
"Because it would keep him safe."
Thibault nodded. "Yes."
She fiddled with the couch cover before turning toward him again. "So you honestly believe what you said? About the photo being a lucky charm?"
Zeus walked toward him and lay at his feet. "Maybe," Thibault said.
She leaned forward. "Why don't you tell me the whole story?"
Thibault gazed at the floor, resting his elbows on his knees, and began, hesitantly, to tell her the whole saga of the photograph. He started with the poker games in Kuwait, then moved on to the RPG that knocked him unconscious and the firefight in Fallujah. He detailed the car bombs and the IEDs he'd survived in Ramadi, including the one in which Victor claimed that the photograph had saved both their lives. He talked about the reaction of his fellow marines and the legacy of their distrust.
He paused before meeting her eyes.
"But even after all that, I still didn't believe it. But Victor did. He always had. He believed in that kind of stuff, and I humored him because it was important to him. But I never believed it, at least not consciously." He clasped his hands together, his voice becoming softer. "On our last weekend together, Victor told me that I owed a debt to the woman in the photo because the photo had kept me safe--that otherwise, there was no balance. It was my destiny to find her, he said. A few minutes later, Victor was dead, but I escaped unharmed. Even then, I didn't believe it. But then, I began to see his ghost."
In a halting voice, he told her about those encounters, reluctant to meet her gaze for fear of seeing utter disbelief there. In the end, he shook his head and sighed. "After that, the rest is just like I told you. I was messed up, so I took off. Yes, I went to find you, but not because I'd been obsessed with you. Not because I loved you or wanted you to love me. I did it because Victor said it was my destiny, and I kept seeing his ghost. I didn't know what to expect when I got here. And then, somewhere along the way, it became a challenge--whether I could find you, how long it would take me. When I finally arrived at the kennel and saw the 'Help Wanted' sign, I guess I thought that would be a way to repay the debt. Applying for the job felt like the right thing to do. Just like when Ben and I were in the tree house; giving the photo to him felt like the right thing to do. But I'm not sure I could explain those things even if I tried."
"You gave Ben the photo to keep him safe," Elizabeth repeated.
"As crazy as it sounds? Yes."
She digested this in silence. Then: "Why didn't you tell me from the beginning?"
"I should have," he said. "The only thing I can think is that I carried the photo with me for five years, and I didn't want to give it up until I understood its purpose."
"Do you think you understand it now?"
He leaned over to pet Zeus before answering. He looked directly at her. "I'm not sure. What I can say is that what happened between us, everything that happened, didn't start when I found the photo. It started when I walked into the kennel. That was when you first became real to me, and the more I got to know you, the more real I felt. Happier and alive in a way I hadn't felt in a long, long time. Like you and I were meant to be."
"Your destiny?" She lifted an eyebrow.
"No . . . not like that. It has nothing to do with the photo, or the journey here, or anything Victor said. It's just that I've never met anyone like you before, and I'm certain I never will again. I love you, Elizabeth . . . and more than that, I like you. I enjoy spending time with you."
She scrutinized him, her expression unreadable. When she spoke, her voice was matter-of-fact. "You realize that it's still a crazy story that makes you sound like an obsessive nut job."
"I know," Thibault agreed. "Believe me, I feel like a freak even to myself."
"What if I told you to leave Hampton and never contact me again?" Elizabeth probed.
"Then I'd leave, and you'd never hear from me again."
The comment hung in the air, pregnant with meaning. She shifted on the couch, turning away in apparent disgust before swiveling her face back toward him.
"You wouldn't even call? After all we've been through?" she sniffed. "I can't believe that."
Relief swept through him when he realized she was teasing. He exhaled, unaware that he had been holding his breath, and grinned.
"If that's what it took for you to believe I'm not a psycho."
"I think that's pathetic. A guy should at least call."
He scooted imperceptibly closer on the couch. "I'll keep that in mind."
"You do realize that you're not going to be able to tell this story if you intend to live around here."
He slid even closer, noticeably this time. "I can live with that."
"And if you expect a raise just because you're dating the boss's granddaughter, you can forget that, too."
"I'll make do."
"I don't know how. You don't even have a car."
By then he had sidled up next to her, and she'd turned back to him, her hair just brushing his shoulder. He leaned in and kissed her neck. "I'll figure something out," he whispered, before pressing his lips to hers.
They kissed on the couch for a long time. When he finally carried her to the bedroom, they made love, their bodies together as one. Their exchange was passionate and angry and forgiving, as raw and tender as their emotions. Afterward, Thibault lay on his side, gazing at Elizabeth. He brushed her cheek with his finger, and she kissed it.
"I guess you can stay," she whispered.
34
Clayton
Clayton stared at the house in disbelief, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. He blinked repeatedly to clear his vision, but he still saw the same things: Beth's car in the driveway, the couple kissing on the couch, Thigh-bolt leading her to the bedroom.
Beth and Thigh-bolt together. With every passing minute, he felt stronger waves of anger cresting and crashing inside him. His perfect plans, all of them, up in smoke. And Thigh-bolt would forever have him over a barrel.
He pressed his lips together in a tight line. He was tempted to storm in on them, but then there was the damn dog. Again. It had been hard enough already, following them thr
ough his binoculars from his car without being noticed.
Thigh-bolt. The dog. Beth . . .
He banged the steering wheel. How could this have happened? Hadn't Beth heard what he'd said? Didn't she understand how much danger she was in? Didn't she care about Ben?
No way was that psycho going to be part of his son's life.
Not a chance.
Not on his life.
He should have expected this. He should have known how stupid Beth would be. She might be pushing thirty, but she had the intelligence of a child. He should have known that she'd see in Thigh-bolt whatever she wanted to see and ignore the obvious.
It would come to an end, though. Sooner rather than later. He'd make her see the light, no matter what it took.
35
Thibault
After kissing Elizabeth good-bye at the door, Thibault collapsed on the sofa, feeling both drained and relieved. He reveled in the knowledge that Elizabeth had forgiven him. That she'd tried to understand and make sense of the convoluted journey he'd taken to get here seemed nothing short of miraculous. She accepted him, warts and all--something he'd never thought possible.
Before she left, she'd invited him for dinner, and though he'd readily agreed, he planned to rest up before he went. He somehow doubted that he'd have the energy for conversation otherwise.
Before his nap, he knew he needed to take Zeus out, at least for a little while. He went to the back porch and retrieved his rain suit. Zeus followed him outside, watching him with interest.
"Yeah, we're going out," he said. "Just let me get dressed first."
Zeus barked and leapt with excitement, like a prancing deer. He raced to the door and back to Thibault again.
"I'm going as fast as I can. Relax."
Zeus continued to circle and prance around him.
"Relax," he said again. Zeus fixed him with a beseeching gaze before reluctantly sitting.
Thibault donned the rain suit and a pair of boots, then pushed open the screen door. Zeus bounded out into the rain, immediately sinking into the muddy ground. Unlike Nana's place, his property occupied a slight rise; the water collected a quarter mile away. Up ahead, Zeus veered toward the forest, then back to the open area again, then circled around to the graveled driveway, running and bounding in sheer joy. Thibault smiled, thinking, I know exactly how you feel.
They spent a few minutes outside, wandering in the storm. The sky had turned charcoal, heavy with rain-burdened clouds. The wind had picked up again, and Thibault could feel the water stinging his face as it blew sideways. It didn't matter; for the first time in years, he felt truly free.
At the base of the driveway, he noted that Elizabeth's tire tracks had nearly washed away. In a few more minutes, the rain would smooth them away completely. Something snagged his attention, though, and he tried to make sense of what he was seeing. His first thought was that the tires that had left the tracks seemed too wide.
He walked over for a closer look, reasoning that the set of tracks she'd left going out had probably overlapped the set coming in. It was only when he stood at the edge of the drive that he realized he'd been mistaken. There were two sets of tracks, both leading in and out. Two vehicles. At first, it didn't make sense.
His mind began to click quickly as the puzzle pieces slid into place. Someone else had been here. That didn't make sense, unless . . .
He glanced toward the path that led through the forest to the kennel. At that moment, the wind and rain unleashed in full fury, and he squinted before his breath caught in his throat. All at once he took off at a run, making sure to pace himself. His mind raced as he ran, calculating how long it would take to get there. He hoped he would make it in time.
36
Beth
As fate would have it, Nana was in the kennel office when Keith stormed into the house and closed the door behind him, acting as if he owned the place. Even from the kitchen, Beth could see the veins on his neck protruding. His hands balled into fists when his eyes locked on hers.
When he marched through the living room, Beth felt something give way inside her; fear filled its place. Never once had she seen him like this, and she backed away, following the angles of the cabinets. Keith surprised her by stopping at the entrance to the kitchen. He smiled, but his expression was off somehow, a grotesque and demented caricature of what it was supposed to be.
"Sorry for barging in like this," he said with exaggerated courtesy, "but we need to talk."
"What are you doing here? You can't just walk in here--"
"Cooking dinner, huh?" he said. "I remember when you used to cook dinner for me."
"Get out, Keith," she said, her voice hoarse.
"I'm not going anywhere," he said, looking at her as if she didn't know what she was talking about. He motioned toward the chair. "Why don't you sit down?"
"I don't want to sit down," she whispered, hating how frightened she sounded. "I want you to leave."
"That's not going to happen," he said. He smiled again, but it was no better than his first attempt. There was a vacancy in his gaze she'd never seen before. She felt her heartbeat speed up.
"Would you get me a beer, please?" he asked. "It's been a long day at the office, if you know what I mean."
She swallowed, afraid to look away. "I don't have any more."
He nodded, glancing around the kitchen before fixing his gaze on her again. He pointed. "I see one right there, by the stove. There's got to be another one somewhere. You mind if I check the fridge?" He didn't wait for an answer. He walked to the fridge and opened it before reaching for the bottom shelf. He came out with a bottle. "Found one," he crowed. He looked at her as he opened it. "Guess you were mistaken, huh?" He took a long pull and winked.
She forced herself to stay calm. "What do you want, Keith?"
"Oh, you know. Just wanted to catch up. See if there's anything I should know."
"Know about what?" she asked, her stomach clenching.
"About Thigh-bolt," he said.
She ignored the mangling of the name. "I don't know what you're talking about."
He took another drink, swishing the beer in his mouth as he nodded. He swallowed, the sound loud. "Driving over here, that's what I thought you might say," he said, sounding almost conversational. "But I know you better than you think I do." He gestured at her with his beer bottle. "There was a time there when I wasn't sure I knew you at all, but that's changed in the past few years. Raising a son together really bonds a couple, don't you think?"
She didn't respond.
"That's why I'm here, you know. Because of Ben. Because I want the best for him, and right now, I'm not sure you're thinking all that clearly about things."
He stepped toward her and took another long pull of his beer. The bottle was already nearly empty. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before going on. "See, I've been thinking that you and I haven't always had the best relationship. That's not good for Ben. He needs to know that we still get along. That we're still close friends. Don't you think that's an important lesson to teach him? That even if your parents get divorced, they can still be friends?"
She didn't like the sound of his rambling monologue, but she was afraid to cut him off. This was a different Keith Clayton . . . a dangerous one.
"I think it's important," he continued. He took another step toward her. "In fact, I can't think of anything more important."
"Just stay back," she said.
"I don't think so," he scolded her. "You haven't been thinking all that clearly in the last couple of days."
As he neared, she slid farther down the bank of counters, trying to keep him in front of her.
"Don't come any closer. I'm warning you."
He kept closing the distance, staring at her with those vacant eyes. "See what I mean? You're acting like you think I'm going to hurt you. I'd never, ever hurt you. You should know that about me."
"You're crazy."
"No, I'm not. A little angry, maybe, but not cr
azy." When he smiled again, the vacancy in his eyes vanished and her stomach did a flip-flop. He went on. "Do you know that even after all you've put me through, I still think you're beautiful?"
She didn't like where this was going. Not at all. By then, she'd reached the corner, with noplace left to go. "Just leave, okay? Ben's upstairs and Nana will be back in a minute--"
"All I want is a kiss. Is that such a big deal?"
She wasn't sure she'd heard him right. "A kiss?" she parroted.
"For now," he said. "That's all. Just for old times' sake. Then I'll go. I'll walk right out of here. I promise."
"I'm not going to kiss you," she said, stunned.
By then, he was standing before her. "You will," he said. "And you'll do more, later. But for now, a kiss is fine."
She arched her back, trying to keep away. "Please, Keith. I don't want this. I don't want to kiss you."
"You'll get over it," he said. When he leaned in, she turned away. He took hold of her upper arms. As he moved his lips toward her ear, Beth could feel her heart begin to hammer.
"You're hurting me!" she gasped.
"Here's the thing, Beth," he whispered. She could feel the warmth of his breath on her neck. "If you don't want to kiss me, that's fine. I'll accept that. But I've decided that I want to be a little more than friends."
"Get out!" she hissed, and with a laugh, Keith let her go.
"Sure," he said. He took a step back. "No problem. I'll leave. But I should let you know what's going to happen if we don't work something out."
"Just leave!" she shouted.
"I think we should go on a . . . date every now and then. And I'm not going to take no for an answer."
The way he said "date" made her skin crawl. Beth couldn't believe what she was hearing.
"After all, I warned you about Thigh-bolt," he added, "but where were you today? At his place." He shook his head. "That was a big mistake. You see, it's pretty easy for me to make a case that he stalked you and that he's obsessive. Both of those things make him dangerous, but you're obviously ignoring it. And that makes it dangerous for Ben to be forced to live with you."
His expression was neutral. Beth was paralyzed by his words.
"I'd hate to have to go to the courts and tell them what you're doing, but I will. And I'm sure they'll grant me full custody this time."