"Someone shoved you," Officer Marshall said flatly.
Their doubt shot under my skin and I pushed myself up higher. The nurse procured some pillows from a closet at the foot of the bed and pushed them behind me, helping me to sit up.
"All I remember is this musky smell... like cologne or perfume," I said. "And then someone ripped off my necklace and pushed me. That's how I got this cut." I turned my head so they could see the bandage. "Whoever did this is a thief and a murderer."
"That would be attempted murderer," Officer Gravois corrected with a chuckle. His partner hid a smile behind his hand. I noticed he was holding a pencil, but had yet to write down anything in his trusty notebook.
"You don't believe me?" I demanded.
"Perhaps you are confused," Officer Gravois said. "Or perhaps you feel embarrassed because the entire St. Barths police force was sent out looking for you for hours. You want to make it seem as if you are a victim, not a mere . .. what is the word . . . klutz?"
Okay. Now I was pissed.
14
"I'm not a klutz! Someone wants me dead. How can you not believe me?"
"You were drinking, no?" Officer Gravois said.
Suddenly I felt even more alone than I had out in the open ocean. I needed help. Someone was trying to kill me and these were the people who were supposed to help. It was their job. But apparently they were too lazy to do their job and preferred instead to mock me. Desperation burbled up in my veins, making my heart race like I'd downed ten cups of espresso.
"Actually, no," I spat. "I had one glass of champagne. If I were drunk enough to imagine this entire thing, do you really think I could have treaded water for that long?"
"It wasn't that long," Officer Marshall said, flipping the pages in his notebook to check it. "It was only about three and a half hours."
"That's a long time!" Sawyer and I said in unison.
I glanced at Sawyer, grateful that I had someone on my side. The cops looked at each other, clearly amused by our overly dramatic antics.
"Look, you don't understand. This isn't the first time," I said, growing more frustrated. "First, someone spooked my horse and almost sent me headlong over a cliff. Then my Jet Ski went haywire and exploded, and now this. Someone on the island is after me."
My heart pounded as I told the story. I realized with a start that whoever was after me would probably try again. No. Notprobably. Definitely. They'd already tried three times, so clearly, they were determined to get the job done. I swallowed hard, trying to dampen my fear.
15
"Miss Brennan, you must calm down," the nurse said, touching her fingertips to my arm. "You need your rest."
"I'll rest if you tell these guys to listen to me," I blurted.
"What's going on here?"
Mr. Lange's booming voice filled the room as he stormed in, followed by Noelle and Upton. I had never seen a more welcome sight in my life. Not only did the jackass police look instantly intimidated by Noelle's father, but Noelle and Upton's mere presence made me feel safe.
"We're just interviewing Miss Brennan, sir," one of the officers said. But I wasn't paying attention, because I was too busy staring at Upton and wishing I could touch him. Suddenly, more than anything, I just needed to cuddle into his arms and stay there for about ten years. But the room was so full now, he couldn't even get close enough to me to touch my hand. He and Noelle hung back near the foot of the bed while the nurse changed my IV bag. Noelle looked at me like she just wanted to hug me. I knew the feeling.
"Harassingher is what it sounded like," Mr. Lange replied, crossing his arms over his chest. His handsome face was red with anger, the little lines around his mouth deeper than usual as he frowned. He glanced over at Sawyer and me. "What's going on?"
"Reed told them she was pushed off the boat and they don't believe her," Sawyer said matter-of-factly.
"Pushed?" Noelle asked. She walked over to me now, practically shoving the nurse aside. Her long brown hair tumbled down her back in unwashed waves and she wore a plain white T-shirt, black shorts,
16
and zero makeup. The most basic outfit I'd ever seen on her. "Who pushed you?"
"I don't know," I replied, my voice sounding small. "But I saw a .. . someone in a hooded jacket," I said, suddenly recalling. I glared at the officers. "I saw them moving away from the railing when I broke the surface."
"Can you describe this person?" Officer Marshall asked, his pencil at the ready. He cast a sidelong glance at Mr. Lange, as if he wanted to make sure Noelle's dad saw him doing his job.
"No," I said. "I couldn't make out their face from the water."
The nurse slunk out behind the officers' backs.
"You have to admit, it sounds a bit far-fetched," Officer Marshall said, looking at Noelle's father.
Mr. Lange took a step closer to the officers. "If the girl says she was pushed, she was pushed. I expect you to take her accusation seriously."
The two officers glanced at each other over Mr. Lange's shoulder. I could tell they were still doubtful, but they finally acquiesced.
"Yes, sir. Of course," Officer Marshall said. "Of course there will be a full investigation."
"Good," Mr. Lange said. "I'll be calling your supervisor to make sure your department is aware of the gravity of the situation."
Officer Gravois's jaw clenched. I could tell he did not like the sound of this, and I was glad. Glad that he was unhappy. He looked over at me and attempted a smile. "Get some rest, Miss Brennan. We're glad you're all right."
17
Yeah. Sure you are. More like you 're pissed off that I just created actual work for you to do.
The two cops left the room and we could hear them bitching to each other in French all the way down the hall. Mr. Lange whipped out his cell phone and speed dialed someone, his lips set in a tight line.
"I'm going to go speak to the doctors," he said, holding the phone away from his ear for a moment. "Someone should be in here checking you out right now." As he walked out he barked into the phone. "Get me the St. Barths police department. Now."
"Thanks," I called after him meekly. Finally, Noelle, Upton, Sawyer, and I were alone.
"That's Daddy. Always multitasking," Noelle joked.
"He doesn't have to do all this," I said, a bit awed by his concern for and defense of me.
"Sure he does. He likes to be in control," Noelle said with a shrug.
Like father, like daughter. I heard him pause to talk to some people out in the hallway and recognized Taylor Bell's voice. I glanced at Noelle quizzically.
"A bunch of people came to make sure you were okay," she explained. "Dash, Kiran, Taylor, Tiff, Amberly, Gage, West..."
All my friends from Easton. Even Gage Coolidge, who usually called me Farm Girl. And Amberly, who was closer to frenemy than friend. Of course Poppy, Paige, Sienna, and Daniel, Paige's brother, hadn't shown. Why was I not surprised?
18
"You guys believe me, right?" I asked, looking around at my friends.
"Of course," Sawyer replied.
My heart welled with gratitude. I was about to thank him, but then Upton walked over and paused next to his chair. "You mind, mate?" he said.
Sawyer glanced at him, hesitated, then got up, pushing the chair toward the wall with the back of his legs without a word. Upton leaned over and kissed my lips, running his hand over my forehead before dropping right down in Sawyer's vacated seat.
"Just calm down and get some rest," he said, clasping my hand in both of his. His deep voice and sexy English accent sent a pleasant thrill down my spine. The first pleasant sensation I'd had since I woke up. "We can deal with all of this later. Right now you just have to take care of yourself."
"Okay," I said, my voice full. "I'm so glad you guys are here," I added, glancing at Noelle.
"We're not going anywhere," Noelle replied, pulling up another chair from under the window. "Just try to get some sleep."
I nodded and leaned back into the
pillows, clinging to Upton's hand. A sense of peace came over me and I felt my eyelids growing heavy. Everything was going to be okay. Upton and Noelle would take care of me. And Sawyer. Sawyer had saved me. I wouldn't even be here if not for him. Plus, he believed me. He was the only one other than Mr. Lange who had actually said he believed me.
I forced my tired eyes open, intending to thank him again, but when I glanced around the room, he was already gone.
19
STAY
My bags were packed and placed next to the front door of the Langes' house, along with the footlocker brimming with college sweatshirts that Upton had given me for Christmas. Mr. Lange barked into his cell phone at the police, pacing around the glass-topped coffee table in the great room of the Langes' vacation home. I stood near the door, my fingers toying with the tiny shell on my rope necklace--a Christmas gift from Sawyer, which I had put on for the first time that morning. I stared at the footlocker, letting my eyes focus and blur, focus and blur.
I'd been so happy on Christmas Eve. So in the moment with Upton. I wished we could have just stayed there forever, hanging out on the floor of his father's study. Alone together. Where no one could touch us. I had to get out of here. How could I stay after everything that had happened? But I felt the loss of everything this trip could have been. It pressed against my chest like an iron fist.
20
"Is that everything?" Noelle asked, comingup behind me.
I jumped and let out an involuntary yelp. Apparently almost getting killed three times in a week can make a girl jumpy.
"Sorry. I forgot. No sneak attacks," Noelle said, touching my shoulder lightly.
Her hair was back in a loose bun and she wore a black T - shirt dress with a neckline so wide the right side fell off her shoulder, exposing her perfectly tanned skin. She looked like a girl without a care in the world. Someone ready to spend her day lazing on the beach sipping pina coladas, just waiting for some hot guy to come along and reapply her suntan lotion. I had never been more envious of her than I was in that moment.
Carefree was not a state with which I was familiar.
"Yeah. That's everything," I said.
"Areyousure aboutthis?" Noelle asked. "Ifyoustay I swear Iwon't let you out of my sight for the rest of the trip."
"That's comforting, but no thanks," I said, taking a deep breath. "My parents are expecting me today and my mother is kind of freaking out after everything that's happened. I think she'll lose it if she doesn't actually get to see me and make sure I'm in one piece."
Noelle smirked. "Parents."
"I know. Besides, whoever's after me is on this island, so I think the best thing to do is just to get the hell off of it," I added.
"Get the hell off of what?"
"Omigod," I breathed, my hand flying to my chest.
Upton had walked up behind us from the great room, once again
21
scaring the wind right out of me. He was wearing a soft-looking navy blue polo and white linen pants, and his feet were bare. His light brown hair had been tousled by the ocean breeze and he made no move to fix it. He was gorgeous. Of course he was. But my heart didn't skip in excitement upon seeing him, like it had every other time he'd entered a room. Since being released from the hospital the afternoon before, I had been trying not to think about all those hours in the water alone. Instead, I'd been focusing on what had happened before my ignominious plunge.
Namely, that Upton had left me alone at one of the most humiliating moments of my life and run off to comfort Poppy Simon, the girl he had been hooking up with for the past few months--until he met me. Poppy was the person he'd been worried about after she and Mrs. Ryan had caught the two of us rolling around on the bed in Mrs. Ryan's stateroom. Her feelings were the ones that mattered to him. Not mine. When I'd seen him at the hospital, my mind hadn't even gone there. I was so happy just to be with him again, to be alive, that I'd momentarily spaced on how much he'd hurt me.
But now I remembered. And I was not happy.
"Where did you come from?" Noelle asked. She shot him a narrow-eyed look. I had told Noelle the entire stateroom story the night before, and she had been about ready to drive over to Upton's and wring his neck. Girl always had my back.
"Walked up from the beach," Upton replied, tilting his head toward the sliding glass doors that fronted the white sand and the pristine turquoise ocean beyond. His sandy flip-flops had been
22
left by the open door. "I was going to ring you, but it's such a gorgeous day I decided on a stroll instead. Now who's getting the hell off what? "
"I am," I said tonelessly. I picked up my hoodie, which I'd flung over the top of my suitcase, and shoved my arms into it. "I'm getting the hell off this island."
Upton's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "What? Why?"
He sounded shocked. Like he couldn't think of a single reason I might want to go. I felt so angry and defensive that my shoulders actually curled.
"You seriously need to ask?" I blurted, zipping the sweatshirt violently. "In case you've come down with a case of sudden amnesia, one of your jilted girlfriends is trying to kill me. I'm not going to stick around here and give her the opportunity to finish the job."
Noelle and Upton exchanged a look that made me want to grab the back of their heads and knock their skulls together. In the great room, Mr. Lange lowered his voice and paced over to the doors, staring out at the ocean as he spoke.
"Are you laughing at me? " I demanded, my face growing hot.
"It's just.. .we know these people, Reed. We've known them since we were zygotes," Noelle said. "They're not capable of murder."
"Yeah, but two years ago you never would've thought Ariana could kill anyone either," I shot back, staring her down.
Noelle's jaw clenched, but she never broke eye contact. She'd never been one to back down from a direct challenge, even when she was 100 percent wrong.
23
"For the record, I would have," Upton said, raising a hand. "Girl was always a bit dodgy in my opinion."
"Shut up, Upton," Noelle said impatiently. "Okay, I never would've thought Ariana could kill anyone either, but Ariana was different. Poppy and Paige . . . they don't have the guts to do something like this."
"What about Sienna? You haven't known her since you were 'zygotes,'" I said sarcastically, throwing in some air quotes.
"No, but Sienna is harmless," Upton said, stepping closer to me.
"Harmless? She left me in a shower stall for hours, freezing my ass off with no clothes," I replied.
"Right. I'd forgotten about that," Upton said, looking at his feet. "Okay, so she's not harmless, but she's not a violent person. You have to be quite mad to commit murder, Reed, and that's not Sienna."
His tone was placating, almost condescending. I glanced at Noelle. Both of them were looking at me as if I was some irrationally scared toddler. Like I'd just woken up from a nightmare and they were trying to convince me that the monsters weren't real. But they were real. Someone had pushed me off that boat. I had felt their hands, smelled their fragrance, seen them slink away. Why didn't anyone want to believe me?
"I don't understand how you guys can act like nothing's wrong," I said, desperation welling inside my chest, constricting my lungs. "Someone is trying to kill me. They spooked my horse, they rigged my Jet Ski, they shoved me off a moving boat. Three times in the last week I've almost died. Don't you get it? I can't stay here."
Tears welled up in my eyes, which frustrated me even more; I was
24
playing into their image of me as a frightened, irrational baby. I took a deep breath and forced myself to calm down. My vision was blurry as I glared at them in defiance, but no tears escaped.
"Reed, Misty and the Jet Ski . . . those were simply accidents," Upton said, taking my hands lightly in his.
I clucked my tongue. "No, they--"
"But if you say someone pushed you off the boat, then someone pushed you off the boat," Upto
n added, interrupting me. "And if you stay here, you'll be available to the police. Maybe you'll remember something that will help them sort it all out."
I scoffed, my voice bubbly and wet. "Please. They're not even going to investigate this. They think I'm some drunk, spoiled liar."
"Oh, they're investigating it," Noelle said, glancing over her shoulder at her father, whose back was to us. "You saw how pissed off Daddy was. Believe me, he's going to take care of it."
Mr. Lange's phone snapped shut and he huffed a sigh, muttering under his breath as he approached us. As always, his clothes were crisp and pressed--a light yellow button-down shirt over gray pants-- but he looked tired. Exhausted, actually. He pressed the top of his nose between his thumb and forefinger before addressing me.
"Reed, I'm so sorry, but it looks like we won't have access to the jet until tomorrow," he said.
"What? Why?" Noelle asked.
His nostrils flared slightly. "Your mother has seen fit to fly it back to the States to pick up some sort of flowers she simply must have for the centerpieces at the gala," he replied sarcastically.
25
Noelle sighed. "That's Mom for you."
Noelle's mother was hosting her annual hospital benefit on the island the following week. She had been wrapped up in the plans ever since we'd arrived, and I'd barely laid eyes on her, even though I'd been living in her house for the past week. Which made sense if she was jaunting around the island in search of flowers.
"There is one commercial flight leaving for Philadelphia later today," Mr. Lange said, checking the screen of his phone. "You'd have to connect through Atlanta, and of course I'd hire a car to drive you the rest of the way to Croton once you arrived. I feel horrible about this."
"See? Now you must stay," Upton said, squeezing my hand.