Page 80 of Won't Back Down
“So far, so good. I’m anxious, but it’s more anticipatory than active, if that makes sense.”
“Absolutely.”
We weren’t the only people on the beach, despite the distant clouds. Had any of them been here that night? Did any of them know how momentous it was that I was even standing here? Was someone out there, even now, watching me, waiting to see what I’d do?
I tried not to think about that as we roasted our hot dogs and talked. Maybe I didn’t talk much, but that wasn’t unusual at social gatherings. I let everyone else carry the conversation as I soaked up the atmosphere and waited for some kind of sign that this was working. With nary a flicker, I grabbed a ball and moved to the edge of the water with the dogs, falling into the easy, familiar rhythm of fetch. I could still hear music from the little Bluetooth speaker Bree had brought. Sawyer was at the picnic table, watching me. All of them were, though they tried not to be obvious about it. I didn’t blame them. After what had happened last time, no doubt everyone was braced for me to lose my shit.
By the time full dark had fallen, I hadn’t remembered anything. I didn’t have any clear memory of leaving the beach with or without Gwen, but objectively, I knew I had at some point. How else would I have been so far north when Sawyer found me? So I trotted back to the group at the table, draping my arms flirtatiously around his shoulders.
“Time for a post-dinner walk.”
At their expectant looks, I shook my head.
“We’ll be back,” Sawyer announced.
Hand in hand, we trudged down the beach, keeping close to the waterline, where the sand was firmer. Despite the medication, I could feel my body trying to react. The edge of a headache was working its way up my temples. Though I had no clear memory, I tried to focus on those physical sensations, using them as a compass and turning toward them. I pulled us away from the water and into the woods.
“Do you remember coming this way?”
“No.” But something in my gut told me to keep going.
The canopy of trees blocked out the waning moon, so we were making our way by cell phone flashlights.
“Is this a good idea? I have a better light in my truck.”
“I wouldn’t have had a better light back then. Just something like this.”
Thunder rumbled in the distance. I knew somewhere behind us, Gabi, Daniel, and Bree were following. I could just barely hear the signs of their passage, and only because I knew following us was the plan. If someone had followed me that night, would I have noticed? The wind from the incoming storm would’ve blocked out any obvious sounds of movement beyond our own. Someone could’ve gotten the drop on me. On us? To what end? I didn’t know.
We walked and walked, until I caught a hint of movement ahead. Shining the light, I saw the fluttering remains of crime scene tape. We’d made it all the way to where I’d stumbled upon Joe Anderson’s remains. And there’d been nothing.
I’d faced my fear directly, and it wasn’t some magic key that unlocked everything and brought those missing memories instantly into focus. As ever, my mind was a blank wall.
The headache was stronger now, but not unmanageable. Turning away from the crime scene, I pushed my way out of the woods and back onto the beach. The storm was nearly on us now, with clouds building above the island. The tide was rougher. I could almost feel the roll of it beneath my feet and swayed.
Sawyer’s arm came around me in an instant. “Okay?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m… fine. I mean, not fine. I can still feel something. But I still can’t remember anything. There’s no flashback. No hallucination.”
His gaze turned out toward the ocean, where the swells already pulsed with the energy of the oncoming storm, but it was nothing to the crash and snarl of wind and water from that night.
“I was just about to turn back, to try searching somewhere else, when I heard you. At least, I thought it was you.” Sawyer’s voice was low enough I barely heard it over the wind.
“I heard something and turned around just fast enough to see you going under.” His shoulders went rigid, and his throat worked. “It was a fucking miracle I even spotted you. No one should’ve been on the water in that storm, let alone in it. Especially not here, with the riptides.”
“I knew about those riptides. I wouldn’t have just… jumped in on a whim.” I’d always known that, even when the popular theory that I’d gone in to rescue a dog had taken root. I stared out at the frothing waves. “I don’t know how I got there. And I don’t know how you managed to get me out.”
His voice went to gravel. “I almost didn’t. I took a monumental gamble, calculating what I knew of the tides and swimming toward where I thought you’d be, rather than where you went under.” He squeezed his eyes shut, and I wondered what he saw. What he remembered.
“You were so pale, so still, when I dragged you out. And I couldn’t find a pulse. You were dead.” He whispered the words, but the truth of them hit me like a shout.
I turned into him, tightening my arms around his waist. “But you saved me. I’m right here because you didn’t give up on me.”
“I’ve never been more scared in my entire life than when I started CPR. I don’t even remember all the deals I made with the Almighty if only you’d live. Then you started coughing.”
He pulled me closer and buried his face in my hair, and I finally did have a memory of him doing exactly this that night. I held on tighter, understanding that, in this moment, I was the one grounding him.
“I didn’t want to let you go.”