25
Josh
Soft snores come from below my chin from the woman nuzzled in the crook of my arm, leg draped across me like a starfish.
I lay in silence, trying not to disturb her. I’m happy she’s here and that last night wasn’t just a hallucination brought on from ingesting too much seawater—until our peace is interrupted by a crashing sound from the bar below us.
Brynn’s snores stop abruptly as she lifts her head. She tilts her face to mine, a confused ridge forming deep between her eyebrows.
“Josh?”
“Hey.”
Her expression clears as she takes in her surroundings.
“How are you feeling? Any aftereffects of the—” Her thought is cut off by a second crash.
Brynn whips her head toward the door. “What is happening down there?”
The sound happens again, but this time, it’s more of a piercing screech that morphs into something far more recognizable. The opening notes of a song.
“Someone’s turned on the karaoke machine.” I crane my neck away from my pillow to hear a little better. “What song is that?”
Brynn groans, snuggling further into the nook of my arm. “It’s the opening credits for Carson’s Cove.” She reaches for the nightstand. “Who in their right mind would be down there at the ungodly hour of”—she picks up the clock and reads it—“ten forty-five?”
Her answer comes in the form of a voice.
A singing voice.
She freezes, her hand still hovering over the nightstand.
“Sheldon,” we both say at the same time.
From there, it’s a quick scramble. I pull on my boxers and toss Brynn her sundress. In a matter of seconds, we’re dressed. Brynn beats me to the door, but before she opens it, she hesitates, slowing her motions. She turns the handle so as not to make a sound, cracking the door open only an inch.
I peer over her shoulder at the bar downstairs.
Sheldon is on the stage, microphone in hand, eyes focused on Fletcher’s apartment door as if he’s waiting for us.
Brynn shuts the door and presses her back to it, blocking my way. “Wait. There’s something I need to talk to you about first.”
She opens her mouth, but the song from downstairs stops and is replaced by Sheldon’s booming voice.
“I know you’re up there, Sloan. Come down here. All I want to do is talk.”
Brynn closes her eyes for a moment. When she opens them again, she turns swiftly, opens the door, and strides down the stairs. I follow close behind, the entire time watching the stage, where Sheldon stands eerily still.
“We have a saying here in Carson’s Cove.” His voice booms through the microphone, its ominous tone not helped by the echo of the empty warehouse. “Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on you again. We have gone over this, Sloan. How many times do I have to repeat myself? I’m starting to get angry.” He begins to pace back and forth across the stage. “We had a deal.”
My stomach drops. “What is he talking about?”
She shakes her head. “I wouldn’t call it a deal. It was more like a straight-up threat.”
Sheldon stops. “And you saw what happened when you completely ignored it.”
Brynn steps toward him. “So that was you? With Luce in the boat. You made that happen?”
Closing his eyes, Sheldon runs his free hand through his already disheveled hair. “I warned you that things would get ugly.” He throws his arm down as his eyes fly open and grow wide while they fixate directly on me. “I would really hate for them to get even uglier.”
“Don’t you dare, Sheld—” Brynn steps toward the stage, but I grab her arm and pull her behind me.
“Smothers. Tell me what’s going on.”
Her hand finds mine, and as our fingers lace together, Sheldon growls into the microphone.
“You.” Sheldon points his finger straight at my chest with such fervor that I swear I can feel it. “You are not one to take a hint, are you? I tried to be subtle with a well-timed power outage or two, but you managed to screw up being the screw-up!” He shakes his head, the volume of his voice dropping to speaking level. “I should have been more careful. I should never have let you come here. That was my bad. I got impatient.” He continues to pace the stage until he once again stops midstride; this time, his finger is aimed at Brynn. “But you—” He glares. “I expected more from you. It’s one thing that you interfered with my ending for Luce last night. But spending the night with him—” He thrusts his hand in my direction so violently that the microphone shrieks. “Sloan doesn’t belong with Fletcher Scott.”
I open my mouth to argue. To tell him that Sloan may not belong with Fletcher Scott, but Brynn belongs with me.
Brynn, however, steps forward before I can speak. “You know what? You’re right.”
My stomach bottoms out.
“I screwed up big-time,” Brynn continues. “You had a plan for this place, and I messed it all up. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
I’m lost.
Brynn and I haven’t had the chance to talk about what happened between us last night, but I thought we were on the same page. No more denying it. No more Spencer. We were going to figure this out together.
“We made a mess of your plans,” Brynn says. “And I’m very sorry for that, and I want to make it up to you.”
She holds her hand out to him as if talking to a small child. “Let’s go talk. Just the two of us. I know how we can make everything right.”
Sheldon sets down the mic, his eyes shifting from Brynn to me.
As he crouches down to jump from the stage, I reach for Brynn’s hand. To get her out of here. To run. To do anything but stay here and comply with this sicko. But Brynn shakes me off.
“You still want to go home, right?” she asks through clenched teeth, her eyes fixated on Sheldon.
“Of course, but—”
“June twenty-first,” she whispers. “I’ll get you home in time. I promise. Trust me, okay?”
“I trust you, but what are you—”
She shakes her head. “I need to go take care of this. But meet me tonight. Seven o’clock. At our spot?”
Sheldon finally reaches us. Brynn points to the door and beckons Sheldon to follow her. I watch as they leave together.
“Are you sure about this?” I yell, just as the door is closing.
There’s a moment when I think I’m too late. But then Brynn’s head reappears around the corner.
“I’m sure,” she says. “I’m going to fix everything.”