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Reagan closed her eyes as a gust of ocean air swirled around her, tearing her hair from her face and leaving hints of salt on her skin. She tried to absorb it a piece at a time, but it all blurred together. She came out here most mornings, to do a half-assed form of meditation. Mostly, it was standing on the beach and losing herself in the crash of the surf and the rustle of the palm-tree leaves.
Blake wrapped his arms around her from behind and kissed along her shoulder. “See anything interesting?”
“Absolutely nothing.” She looked at the crystal-blue water, licking up the sand but not quite reaching her toes.
“Hmm...” He slid a finger under the string holding up her bikini top. “Sounds stunning.”
“It is. More amazing than any poet would ever lead you to believe nothing could be.” It had been almost a year since the incident at the high school. The dreams that woke her up in a cold sweat, where she swore the walls were closing in and the only thing she heard was Jabberwock’s voice, had faded. They only came every few weeks now.
She traced her fingers over the familiar inlay of the silver locket that rested at the base of her throat. The necklace didn’t hold photos of her or Blake—they avoided having their pictures taken. Nestled inside was the silicon-encased micro SD card with the layout of Sawyer Brolin’s financial holdings. Several of which had mysteriously vanished or were sold to another holding company in the last eleven months.
Reagan and Blake had evidence that Lisa was transferring all of Sawyer’s dealings to be under a new pseudonym, but Reagan hadn’t pushed to find out more than that. So far, there was no reason to.
“Breakfast is ready when you are,” Blake said.
It was one of the thousands of things Reagan discovered about him once they had time to talk—the man was a wicked cook. Which was good. She’d spent more time learning to hack than to boil water, so her best contribution to food was ordering pizza online. “I could be persuaded to eat.”
He turned her to face him. “Persuaded?” He tangled his fingers in her hair and crushed his mouth to hers. The intensity of the kiss stole her breath and mingled with the peace in her head rather than disrupting it.
When he broke away, she let a shy grin slip out. In a previous life, she would have felt obligated to flirt after a gesture like that. Come back with something like, Am I breakfast? With Blake, that need to pretend was gone.
This was right. Some days life was still terrifying, but on those days, everything startled her. Most of the time, things with Blake were good. More than she ever dared hope for.
He tangled his fingers in hers and tugged her toward their cottage. As they approached, she caught a reflection of herself in the glass. Her hair was growing out red again. It was at about her ears now, leaving an odd stripe of blonde at the bottom. Dye it to match never felt like a priority.
They stepped inside, and a sparkle caught her attention. She turned toward the living room, and saw the small rubber plant they kept in the corner was strung with lights. A few boxes sat next to the pot, wrapped in bright paper. “What did you do?” she asked.
“Merry Christmas.”
“It’s only Halloween,” she pointed out.
“I know, but we missed Thanksgiving and Christmas last year, because mental and physical agony, and now that we’re getting better at this living life thing...” He brushed past her, grabbed one of the smaller boxes, and handed it to her. “Short version is, I couldn’t wait. I’m also not the kind of poet who can make nothing sound any more tempting than you did outside, so... open it?”
Her voice jammed in her throat, as she tore off the shiny red wrapper to expose a black velvet box. She opened it and gasped at the sight of a thin silver bracelet with Reagan etched on it. She still introduced herself as Alice, but he always called her by her real name, when they were alone. “It’s beautiful.”
He dragged a thumb across her cheek, smudging wetness over her skin. “I didn’t think I’d get tears out of you.”
“Well you did.” She shook her head and pulled away, to draw the back of her hand over her face. She didn’t know if either of them would ever stop looking over their shoulder. They’d be keeping a loose eye on Lisa Haynes or whoever replaced her for the rest of their lives. But if Reagan had Blake, the rest would fall into place somehow.
THE END
If you enjoyed Hacking Wonderland, watch for Lisa’s story, coming in 2018