24

“Where’ve you been?” Bastian asked as soon as she walked into the cottage.

His words were slurred, and Ismay assumed he was drunk again. He was always drinking. He didn’t seem to have anything else to do, which made her wonder why he’d come to the island in the first place.

She’d had enough. If she had to move out of the cottage, she would. She felt that was probably the wisest thing to do, anyway. Then she wouldn’t be beholden to Remy, Bastian, or their folks. “None of your business,” she replied.

Obviously surprised by her terse response, he tossed the remote onto the coffee table and got off the couch. “So we’re not playing nice anymore, huh?”

“I’m tired of letting you be rude to me,” she said. “I won’t allow it in the future.”

“Oh, you won’t?” He started laughing. “What are you going to do about it?”

He had all the power here... “I could fly back to California.”

“What about Remy? And your brother?”

She purposely ignored the part about Remy. “If it comes to that, Jack could head home, too,” she said, but she’d texted Bo almost as soon as he’d left her at the beach to tell him not to let her brother know about Remy and the woman he’d been with. She didn’t want Jack to feel his time on the island was going to be cut short, or that he’d made a mistake trusting her enough to come. She planned to manage her own affairs so he’d be able to get back on his feet. “Or we could both move into Honey’s house while she’s gone and enjoy the rest of our summer vacation,” she said.

He gave her an “as if” look. “Remy would never stand for that.”

“It’s not up to Remy,” she responded.

“Something’s changed.” He cocked his head to the side. “Something between you two.”

“Yeah. I don’t consider us engaged anymore. That’s what’s changed.”

His eyes lit up. “You broke it off?”

“Not officially, but I will.”

She hadn’t been quite as decisive when she’d talked to Remy as she was now, but she certainly planned to make it clear that he no longer had any claim on her fidelity.

He gestured at her left hand. “You’re still wearing his ring.”

“I’m about to take it off.”

Bastian followed her as she crossed the room to the stairs. “What does that mean? Is it over for good? Or...”

“You’ll have to ask him.”

“Does this have anything to do with Bo?”

The mention of Bo’s name sent a shot of adrenaline through her. There was no way she could let Bastian—or Remy—make this about him. Turning on the second step, she said, “Absolutely not.”

The grin that stretched across his face was so gleeful it almost made him look like Tim Burton’s version of the Mad Hatter. “Methinks thou dost protest too much,” he said.

Terrified her problems would lap over onto Bo, she lifted her chin. “You want to blame what’s happening between Remy and me on your caretaker?” she said. “Take a look at this.”

Navigating to the video where Remy was kissing his date last night, she turned the screen on her phone to face him. He tried to take it, but she pulled her hand back. “No. Just watch.”

He bent closer as he did. Then he started to laugh almost maniacally and couldn’t seem to stop.

“There’s something seriously wrong with you,” she said and stomped up the stairs before slamming and locking her door.

After what’d happened with Lyssa, Bastian couldn’t help taking great satisfaction in the trouble between Remy and Ismay. He knew he shouldn’t goad his brother. No one could be more vindictive. But it was such perfect revenge that he couldn’t stop himself from gloating, especially since he hadn’t even had to do anything to break them up. Remy had handled that himself.

What are you talking about? his brother texted back. She’s not going anywhere.

*I* have everything you do, he pointed out.

Bastian glared at his brother’s words. Remy had always acted so fucking superior. The shrink their mother had taken Bastian to years ago said Remy was just trying to establish his own identity. But it was more than that. Way more.

Tamping down the anger that’d welled up and ruined his buzz, he took another shot of whiskey before responding.

His fingers fumbled with the keys. He had to go back to correct several words, but he took the time to do it because he didn’t want to create an even easier target for his brother. Remy had always made him feel like he was the dumber twin.

Okay, Bastian wrote back. Forget I said anything. He knew acting as though he were throwing up his hands would bother his brother even more than if he kept arguing. And, sure enough, Remy wrote him right back.

“Sometimes you miss the obvious,” he said, speaking aloud. “It’s always been that way. Just like with Lyssa.”

There could be no confusion. It was right on the video! Only Remy could try to sell such an outrageous lie.

I’ve got this, Remy wrote back. Just stay out of it.

Okay. Bastian filled his glass before plopping back on the couch. “You haven’t got anything,” he said to the room and flipped to the golf channel. But he could’ve been watching anything. All he could think about was that, for once, Remy wouldn’t get everything he wanted.

Remy called before Ismay could decide what, exactly, she wanted to text him. She stared at his picture on her phone, wondering if she should pick up. He could be so persuasive and persistent; she didn’t want him to talk her out of what she was going to do. But avoiding him for that reason seemed a little sophomoric, so she forced herself to answer.

“Hey, babe,” he said.

She rolled her eyes at the saccharine in his voice. He wasn’t going to win her back that easily. “Don’t you need to be studying?”

“How can I study when you’re upset with me?”

“I’m more than upset, Remy.”

“And I can see why. I feel terrible.”

Would how she was acting impact his ability to prepare for the last part of his medical boards? She hated being responsible for setting anyone back. But she always took on too much responsibility. She was merely reacting as anyone would, she reminded herself. It was a natural consequence of his actions. He was the one who’d caused the rift between them. “I think... I think we need to call off the engagement.”

“Why? We have time to work this out. And we will. I swear I’ll prove myself. I’ll be a different man, a much better one, once I clear this hurdle and start my residency.”

But his residency would present its own challenges. Was she going to have to worry about him continuing to sleep with Sam or the female nurses and/or doctors where he worked? Would she be at her office, trying to concentrate on her own work when he called to say he wouldn’t be home for dinner and get a sick feeling in her stomach as she wondered if he was hiding away in a closet at the hospital with an intern?

“I’m happy to hear that,” she said. “And maybe it’ll be true. But until I can heal and rebuild my trust—if I can heal and rebuild my trust—I’m taking marriage off the table.”

“Ismay, come on. Don’t be a bitch. I told you, Sam doesn’t mean anything to me.”

The irritation and impatience in his voice absolutely confounded her. How dare he act as though she were doing something wrong simply because she’d been hurt by his actions? “Call me a bitch if you want to, but I’ve already taken off your ring. You’ll find it on your dresser when you get here.”

“And where will you be?”

“I don’t know,” she said and hung up.

A text came in from Jack before she could even gather her thoughts after that call.

She did want to go. She felt she was suffocating in the cottage with Remy’s things surrounding her, that duffel bag lurking in the closet, and his drunk brother parked on the couch downstairs.

She didn’t only want to get out of the house; she wanted to get off the property.

She no longer cared if Bastian knew her brother was staying with Bo, not for her own sake. But she didn’t want it to cause any problems for Bo, so they still had to be careful.

She could really use some.

Ismay climbed off the bed, brushed her teeth, pulled her hair into a ponytail, and grabbed a jacket, in case it chilled off. She didn’t want anything forcing her back to the house before she was ready.

She’d opened her door and was about to walk into the hall when she realized she hadn’t yet taken off her promise ring, although she’d told Remy she had. Taking a few seconds to twist it off her finger, she put it in a monogrammed leather dish-like holder Remy had on the dresser and walked out.

As soon as her feet hit the main level, Bastian leaned up over the couch. “Where are you going?”

She didn’t even look at him, let alone reply.

Ismay was happy to see her brother when she found him waiting for her down the road. There was strength in numbers. They would support each other and manage to make the most of their once-in-a-lifetime stay on Mariners, she told herself, even if this summer was far different than what they’d both expected.

“How’d it go today?” she asked as she came even with him.

“Good. One more day and the fence will be fixed.”

“Bo told me he’s really grateful for all the help you’ve given him.”

“He’s a cool dude—sort of like working with Dad, except without all the criticism if I do something wrong.”

She laughed. “He’s the strong silent type?”

“Pretty much. I can’t help liking him.”

Ismay couldn’t help it, either. She quickly turned her face away, because the memory of kissing Bo earlier immediately came to mind, and she didn’t want a silly smile or dreamlike expression to give her away. “What’s the good news?”

“Honey called Bo just before I texted you.”

“What for?”

“To tell him that her daughter has broken her ankle.”

“Ouch!” Ismay sent him a sharp look. “That’s good news?”

“No, sorry. Not that part. Honey’s taking the first flight out tomorrow. She’s needed to help take the girls where they need to go for softball and their other activities.”

“I hope her daughter’s foot heals quickly, but I bet it feels good for Honey to know she’s needed.”

“She’s certainly anxious to get there. She said I can move in tomorrow. She asked me to come by at eight thirty tonight, so she can go over how to take care of the cat and her plants and get the mail and whatever else she wants me to do.”

“That’s wonderful! Bo will have his bungalow back, so we’ll no longer have to worry about getting him in trouble with the Windsors, and you’ll have a place of your own,” she said and then came to a sudden stop.

“What is it?” he asked, turning back to see why she’d quit walking.

Ismay thought of how uncomfortable she was staying with Bastian, despite the size and elegance of the cottage. “Do you mind if I move in with you?” she asked.

He seemed taken aback. “Of course not. You’re the one who found me this place. And I’m sure there are at least two bedrooms. I can ask Honey tonight if it’s okay. But why would you want to leave the cottage?”

She raised her eyebrows.

“All right,” he said, immediately backing away from the question. “Bastian’s a good reason. But what about Remy? Will you move back when he arrives?”

She started walking again and he fell right in step with her. “Maybe. We’ll have to see what happens.”

Bo’s message came in late, as if he’d been trying not to text her after what’d happened between them at the lighthouse, but he ultimately couldn’t stop himself.

Or maybe it was just that he couldn’t sleep. Ismay was having trouble nodding off herself. She’d struggled to rest ever since she’d arrived on Mariners—first with the storm and then Bastian showing up. That she was getting more and more frazzled was pretty ironic, since she’d come to the island to relax.

Tonight, Bastian couldn’t seem to shut down and go to bed. He’d been wandering around the house muttering to himself ever since she’d told him she’d be moving out in the morning. There were moments she could’ve sworn he was standing right outside her door, as if to intimidate her. Maybe he was angry and had something to say? Or worse, wanted to indulge in some twisted fantasy that had to do with the contents of that damn duffel bag?

That was what truly frightened her. Whenever she heard a creak on the stairs or in the hall—even if it was just the house settling—her skin would prickle and she’d hold her breath. What was he doing? Why didn’t he pass out from all the alcohol, or turn on the TV and shut himself in the master like he usually did?

Thank goodness she’d soon be out of the cottage. Honey had agreed she could stay with Jack, and she’d feel a lot better when they were together.

When she heard the cupboards opening and closing in the kitchen and knew Bastian was downstairs, she drew a deep breath and turned her attention to answering Bo.

She thought about mentioning that he kept coming to her door, but she wasn’t entirely certain of that, and she didn’t want to falsely accuse him.

I can’t believe Remy took the breakup in stride, Bo wrote.

That wasn’t true. Ismay could easily tell Bo was twice the man Bastian was, and Bastian didn’t like being outdone by anybody, especially someone he considered so obviously inferior. Ismay knew that simply from the way he made himself the hero of every story he told.

He has issues with you and Remy, she wrote, maybe every man he doesn’t compare favorably to.

And tonight would be her last chance to do it.

Okay, she wrote, but don’t go anywhere. It creeps me out to have to touch it again.

Once again listening for Bastian, to determine his whereabouts, she held her breath, but the house was silent. Had he gone to bed while she was texting with Bo?

She hadn’t heard him in the hall...

Maybe he’d finally passed out on the couch downstairs.

Hoping that was the case, she climbed out of bed and crept across the floor. The boxes were still there—she hadn’t moved anything—so she used them once again as the step stool she needed to reach above the shelf.

Putting a hand on the lintel to steady herself, she used the video feature of her camera to show the shelf, Remy’s notebook, the loose panel, and how it came out—and the hole behind it. But when she reached in, planning to pull the duffel bag out for the camera, there was nothing there.