Page 48

“Barbara,” I started, but she touched my lips to silence me.

“Don’t spoil it,” she whispered.

We sat in silence for a while, wrapped in each other, listening to the steady crash of waves on the beach below. The salt air was thick and cool, but I felt something different pressing between us—Barbara’s tension, coiled tight in her muscles, her breath just a little too measured.

“What is it?” I asked.

She shook her head, letting out a quiet laugh, though there was no humor in it. “How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Know when I’m fighting myself about whether or not to say something.”

I shrugged. “It’s a gift.”

She shifted in my arms, turning so she could see my face. Her expression was unreadable, but her eyes were clear, sharp. “What did you have to take care of this afternoon?”

I tensed, my grip on her waist tightening slightly before I forced myself to relax. The comforting warmth of the moment cooled like embers in a dying fire. “It’s nothing you need to worry about.”

“Victor,” she said, her tone insistent. “You promised. No more secrets.”

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. She started to pull away, but I held her firm. “Fine,” I relented. “Let’s take a walk.”

The wooden stairs that led down to the beach were slick with evening dew, the planks damp beneath our feet.

Barbara gripped the railing with one hand, the other clasped tightly in mine.

The air was crisp, thick with brine, and the persistent crash of waves mixed with the occasional whistle of a distant ship.

As we descended the last steps, the mist curled around us, softening the glow of the deck lights behind us.

Ahead, the ocean stretched into the darkness.

“Do you remember our friend, Kowalski?” I asked when we reached the sand.

Her fingers tightened around mine, a reflexive shudder passing through her. “How could I forget?”

“Well, he’s come out of the woodwork recently, and he’s proving to be a real thorn in my side. Truthfully, he’s got more stones than I gave him credit for.” I pulled her along gently, our bare feet sinking into the cool, damp shore. A breeze teased Barbara’s hair, lifting strands across her face.

She slowed her pace, forcing me to turn and face her. “What kind of trouble?” she asked, her voice quiet but laced with genuine concern.

I stopped, letting the sand shift underfoot as I considered how much to tell her. “Kowalski got wind that I lifted his development designs for the new residential build in the Valley,” I admitted. “He’s making noise—talking to people he shouldn’t, threatening to go to the authorities.”

Her eyes widened. “Can he prove anything?”

“Doubtful,” I said, though the certainty in my voice didn’t quite match the knot in my gut. “But even rumors might be a problem right now. I need everything to stay quiet.”

We continued along the shoreline, the wet sand compacting under each step. A skeletal stretch of driftwood lay rotting ahead, its splintered edges jutting out like ribs. The tide lapped at its edges, slowly pulling it apart, piece by piece.

Barbara broke the silence, her tone cautious but insistent. “So what did you have to take care of this afternoon?”

I exhaled slowly. “I met with Phil,” I said, my voice carefully measured, “to discuss how to best handle him.”

She stopped again, and I turned back to find her staring at me, a storm of emotions playing across her face—concern, fear…something else I couldn’t quite place.

“Handle him?” she repeated. “Victor, you’re not…you’re not going to hurt him, are you?”

“We’ll do what we have to do,” I said evenly, leaving it deliberately vague.

She looked away, her gaze fixed on the horizon where the inky sky swallowed the water. The wind picked up, sending a chill through the thin fabric of my shirt. Barbara shivered.

“Darling,” I said softly, but she didn’t respond.

Her silence was heavy. I moved closer, attempting to take her hand, but she crossed her arms over her chest, hugging herself.

“If you didn’t want to know…”

She shook her head. “No, no. I asked.”

The waves lapped closer to our feet, their cold fingers stretching up the shore. I watched as a foam-tipped surge kissed Barbara’s toes. She didn’t flinch.

She blew out a quick breath and looked up at me. “Are you in danger? Are we?”

I took her by the shoulders and pulled her body hard against mine. “We’re safe, Barbara. I have good people working for me. Trust me.”

Her eyes searched mine, desperate for certainty. “You can’t promise that,” she whispered.

I stroked her hair, my fingers tangling in the windblown strands. “I can, and I do.”

She swallowed, clearly not convinced.

“There’s something else,” I said, bracing for her reaction. “I bought you a gun to keep at the house. Just in case.”

Her eyes flashed with anger, and her body went rigid. “Victor, no. Absolutely not.”

“It’s just a precaution. I’d feel better knowing you and Frankie are protected.”

“Protected from what?” she demanded, stepping back from me. “You just said we’re safe.”

“You are,” I insisted.

“No, Victor,” she said, shaking her head vehemently. “I don’t want a gun in my house. Frankie’s just a child—it’s too dangerous.”

“Barbara,” I started, but she was already turning away, heading back toward the stairs. I caught up and took her arm—gentle but resolute. “No one knows where you are, and they have no reason to come looking. But until this thing with Kowalski blows over, I need to know you’re safe. That’s all.”

She hesitated, exhaling sharply. “Victor,” she said, her voice calmer but still resistant. “I don’t even know how to fire a gun.”

“It’s not that complicated. Point and shoot, like in the movies.”

She turned to face me, searching my eyes for some reprieve, some concession. I gave none.

“I’ll teach you how to use it,” I said evenly. “Chances are you won’t ever have to, and it’ll just collect dust. But I need to know you have the means to protect yourself when I’m not there. This is nonnegotiable, Barbara.”

She bit her lower lip as the wind tossed her hair into a wild halo. For a moment, I thought she might cry, but she was stronger than that. Stronger than even she knew.

“Fine,” she said at last, her voice resigned. “But I’m only taking it because you insist.”

“I do insist.” I brushed my lips against hers. “And now I’ll sleep at night knowing no one can take you from me.”