CHAPTER 20

Some days, everything Daniel could imagine became real.

Instead of the worn slats of the deck, the raised head of the nail by the railing, the knob of gnarled wood by the leg of his lawn chair, he felt his bare feet on a waxed Firewire V4 cutting turns on a perfect set of Gold Coast waves. He was still a surfer.

He was also a lover. He thought of Jane naked, the curve of her breasts—one a little larger than the other, both of them more than filling his hands—the way the line of her shoulders echoed the shape of her hips, both of them solid and easy to hang on to. She was made of the same stuff of his dream of surfing. This was partly due to the haze of his meds wearing off. But it was also impossible to absorb how quickly his life had been transformed, how everything now felt possible. Surfing and Jane. Getting his career back.

Below him the kitchen screen slapped shut against the frame.

So enters Steven the elder, thought Daniel, in a movie trailer voiceover. The taller by one point five inches, who made five million dollars on his last movie. It had been a forgettable summer blockbuster about the end of the world. But he would rather have made twenty thousand doing an indie with a director who’d chosen Steve for his acting ability rather than his A list name. That was what the Hawaii project was about: getting something made that Steve could be proud of, that showcased his talents.

Steve handed Daniel a fresh water bottle. His eyes snagged on Daniel’s bare feet—one real foot and one synthetic shell with carved toes fitted around a steel carbon frame—then skipped away. “You’ll have to forget about teaching Jane to surf. Surfline updated their forecast for Hawaii. Looks like that swell coming down from Alaska is arriving sooner than expected. And it’s gonna be huge.”

“Too big?”

“Not for us.” He grinned. “It’ll hit Oahu a week from Monday. Mom’s pissed you’ll be out there and she’ll be the gimp for once.”

“I’ll need a different leg to surf.””

“We’ll get it.”

“There isn’t enough time before we leave.”

In Daniel’s peripheral vision he saw Steve push back his disappointment. Usually he hid behind a glib joke, or toying sarcasm, or a quick one-liner. Instead he came around behind Daniel and bear hugged his chest and the back of the chair against him. “Someday someone’s gonna get smart and make a wetsuit with sensors in it like those motion capture suits. I’ll be able to go out there and surf and you’ll have—I dunno—some kind of visor or something around your head and my suit will transmit everything it feels into your head and it will be just the same as if you were out there.”

“That’d be something.” Daniel tried not to move so Steve wouldn’t back away. He worried about hurting Daniel by being too forceful. Before New York they’d always been at each other, stealing things from pockets, racing, shoving. Rhea used to start phone calls to their father with a list of damages—cracked furniture, holes knocked into walls, complaints from friends’ parents. Since New York, they’d learned to be more careful with each other.

Steve rested his chin on Daniel’s head. “We’ll track down Kelly Slater during the Triple Crown. I bet he could make it happen.”

“Bet he could.”

They watched the grey lines of smog on the horizon blend with the grey of the ocean, forming the setting of the sun into monochrome bands. The knob of Steve’s chin dug into Daniel’s skull as Steve rolled his head from side to side, drummed his fingers on Daniel’s shoulders.

“You remember last week when I had that really bad attack?”

“I try not to.”

“I was watching the press conference with the target and I had a new flashback.”

“Anything good?”

“I remember them yelling at me about a girl I shouldn’t have messed with. I thought maybe that supports our theory that they meant to grab you instead.”

“That’s your theory, not mine.”

“Do you remember who you were seeing in New York?”

“Nope.”

“Humor me.”

“I wasn’t seeing anyone. There wasn’t time. We were behind schedule. Half of it was night shoots.”

“There must’ve been—”

“You’re the one who met a girl in New York.”

Daniel turned this over in his head and dismissed it. He had only been with Jane a few hours. They hadn’t done anything but talk. There had been no reason for anyone to have been watching them. Unless she had already been married and her husband was spying on her.

She hadn’t been married.

So she said.

Daniel pushed the thoughts away and said, “Do you ever regret not going to the police?”

“Let’s not go there, okay?”

“Maybe if I’d have been able to help them catch the—”

“You’d have hurt us more than helped the police.”

“I think I should talk to them now.”

“Like fuck you should.”

“I don’t want to live the rest of my life afraid of someone finding out what happened. If this woman can come forward and identify one of them, I should be able to say they targeted me.”

“What about me, huh?”

“A Vanguard trial doesn’t always ruin someone’s career.”

“Sure, but no one else has had their little brother attacked in their place. And it wasn’t a trial, it was a shit show.”

You have no idea.

“The press would destroy me.”

Daniel wanted to argue, to say that Steve didn’t have a right to say what Daniel could or couldn’t do. But Daniel knew that wasn’t fair. It was more than a public concern. It was their family. Their parents knowing. Poppy going to school and having her classmates talking about it.

As much as Daniel wanted resolution, he knew it would have to be from a distance. He couldn’t imagine a scenario where Steve crossed a line that would make him deserve what would probably be a publicity nightmare. Unless he tried to sabotage me and Jane. Something like that, Daniel could shirk all responsibility to the family and expose the secret that would upend their lives.

Far below, the garage door rumbled open. Steve flinched. Daniel felt him shifting gears, preparing for the entrance of other people. “Jane’s back.”

“Jane’s back.”

“I think she’s warming up to me.”

“She’s not.”

“You can’t deny we had a moment yesterday.”

There he goes again, rewriting history. The Vanguard attack couldn’t be his fault. Just like Jane couldn’t be as apathetic to his charms as she appeared.

“We’re going to the studio tomorrow morning, but I’ll be around if you need me to sit in the production meeting.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Has Rowan found any good guys to replace Garrett?”

“Nope. But I have.”

“You’re sure you want me?”

“Not really, but Jane seems to have worked a miracle. If it doesn’t stick, or she turns out to be less than she appears to be, then I’ll know where to find you when you ruin my movie.” The teasing sounded like a threat, but it was more than Daniel had hoped for.

“That means a lot, Steve.”

“Just to be clear, I’m not saying she’s one hundred percent only into you. Women are complicated and you shouldn’t feel bad if she gets all hot and bothered sitting next to me at dinner.”

“If you sit next to her at dinner.” Daniel pushed up out of his chair and made as though to run down the stairs. Steve shoved past him, sprinting to make it down to the kitchen first, the way he used to when there was still the chance Daniel would beat him.