Page 44 of Dead of Summer

FAITH

Footsteps tap on the deck just below. Faith jerks away from the window and presses her back against the slick outer wall of the yacht.

Just over the edge, there is the flash of a white shirt as a deckhand strides past, carrying a stack of fresh linens.

When she is sure they’ve passed, Faith leans carefully back over toward the window.

Geoffrey is gone now. The room is completely empty.

As she starts back across the ledge she glances out toward the party.

But it is no longer directly across from her.

She finds the Clarkes’ lawn has slipped behind her and the yacht has started moving.

The boat is gliding on the water away from shore into the vast black ocean.

The chasm between her and the shore grows. Her foot reaches for the deck.

“Careful. Slippery out there. I’d hate for you to fall.

” The voice rumbles through the dark behind her.

Faith stops. The skin on her neck prickles as she slowly turns around, caught.

Geoffrey stands at the far end of the deck.

He is holding his drink in one hand. His shirt, unbuttoned on top, shows a gray patch of chest hair.

“Always poking around, aren’t you?” he says, smiling a little as she steps fully back onto the deck. “Before you married my son you wanted to know there were no skeletons in the closet?”

She remembers the article she’d read on Geoffrey back when she first met David.

One of America’s twenty most powerful men.

There he is, standing right in front of her.

He looks haggard under the overhead lights.

His cheeks, scattered with stubble, are hollow in the centers.

Not some golden god like they’d have you believe. Just a person.

“Something like that.” Her breath is ragged as she watches him, unsure what will come next.

“What did you think you’d find here? A drug ring? Stolen guns?” He raises his brows, amused, and takes a drink. “Underage women, perhaps?” At this Faith takes a step back, coming up against the railing. She’s miscalculated.

“I just wanted to make sure. Gemma is missing, and I thought…”

“You must think I’m pretty sloppy,” Geoffrey says, smirking now.

“No, I—” Faith is caught.

His voice grows louder, angrier. “Funny how you are the one digging for skeletons when your closet is full of them. You have quite the past. Forgery. Breaking and entering. I believe those were two separate arrests.”

Faith’s stomach lurches. “Those were dismissed. I was so young. A child really—”

“They are still findable,” he tuts. “You think with this much money I don’t have the resources to do a little digging on who my son is dating? Those were only practice, of course. For the big one. I think you know what I’m talking about.” He smirks, victorious. “That poor dead woman.”

“I had nothing to do with that.” Faith feels the blood draining from her head.

“Maybe not. But you were there, weren’t you? Lucky they caught the guy and never ran those extra prints or you’d have been in trouble.”

“I—” Faith can’t find the words to reply to him. She’s been trying to uncover his secrets, when all along he’s known hers. He must have been saving the information up, waiting to deploy it when it would best serve his needs.

“Why did you let David propose to me, then?” she says. “You wouldn’t want a criminal marrying your son.”

Geoffrey smiles a bit ruefully at the diamond on her finger. “Oh, the public proposal was my idea. David was having second thoughts, but I convinced him. I like to watch these things play out. I thought a ring might have been enough for you, but it seems like it wasn’t.”

Faith glances down at it guiltily.

“And I changed my mind somewhere along the way. My son could use a wife. Someone who will keep him reeled in. He needs a bit of control in his life. You are the type who wouldn’t just let him walk all over you.

No, you’d need to find out what he was up to.

You’d have to turn over every single stone.

” There is tension just below the surface of his skin.

It ripples across his face, dragging the corners of his mouth down.

“No, I—” There is a creak below her, and Faith looks down at the water, reeling.

“Your little investigation this time came up dry, though, didn’t it? Maybe you’re not quite the sleuth you think you are.”

“Investigation?”

“Oh, I’m a little bit sharper than you might expect, even for an old man. I have friends in, shall we say, low places. Not that I frequent the Salty Crab myself, mind you.”

“Walter? I thought he was friends with Jean.”

“That idiot will play any side that pays him well enough.” Geoffrey smirks. “So what do you say? Better to keep you close. It’s a good deal for you. You get to marry my son. Live a life of comfort. Escape your past.”

“In exchange for what?”

“You leaving everything well enough alone,” he snaps. His anger drives her back against the railing. “It’s a long drive back to Manassas, Oklahoma. Or should we say a long fall?”

Faith looks down at the black water swirling below. Would she make it if she jumped? Could she swim back to shore?

“So, what’ll it be, Faith? Maybe it’s time to just take your wins and calm down, live your life.”

“No.”

Geoffrey’s expression changes. The volatile smile falls off his face and he steps close to her.

His fingers dig into her shoulder. His breath is hot and acrid in her face.

“How fucking dare you? You thought you could waltz in here and disrupt everything. Who the fuck are you? Some little nobody from nowhere. Do you know who I am?” Spit gathers in the corners of his mouth as he releases his full Clarke anger on her.

“Look at that ring. It’s worth more than anything you’ve ever owned in your life.

But it’s still not enough for you, is it? Women.” He waves his hand, disgusted.

“No. I don’t want it,” Faith says with sudden clarity. “Not anymore. Not like this.”

“Well then, you may as well be dead to me.” His hands are on her shoulders in an instant, shoving her with surprising force against the rail.

Faith squirms beneath his grasp. He is red-faced, winded.

She feels her feet leave the ground. She is tipping back when a small voice breaks through the sound of the waves, barely audible.

“Faith!” The voice makes Geoffrey draw back, surprised. Faith looks over his shoulder as a young woman runs barefoot across the deck, clutching the hem of her long, fitted dress.

“Gemma!” Faith yells to her.

“What are you doing out here?” Geoffrey barks. He spins back toward Gemma, unpinning Faith from the railing. “Who let you out?”

Two very large men have appeared at the top of the glass staircase.

There to do Geoffrey’s bidding. The Clarkes have a way of getting out of things.

“Run Gemma!” Faith yells, her feet grip the deck as they run toward the back of the ship.

The men follow them, efficiently moving their huge bodies in pursuit.

They reach a deck that juts out over the water.

The waves rush below, white crests on black.

“I didn’t understand what it all meant,” Gemma cries. “I thought they were going to help me. I just wanted my future to be better.” Faith understands her completely then. She understands the way someone could tie their future to a terrible man. Faith had done it herself.

“We have to jump,” Faith whispers, helping Gemma up over the railing as the men close in on them.

“Will we be okay?” Gemma asks, her teeth already chattering. But Faith doesn’t answer. There is no time, and she doesn’t know. She steps off the ledge, Gemma’s hand in hers, and they plummet toward the inky water.