Starless Nights (Hale Brothers Series Book 2) (6 page)

My father grew up on Anna Maria Island and after college, he and Aunt Ella’s brother decided to join the military. Once his tour was up, he found himself back at MacDill Air Force Base in Tampa, and while being stationed there, he met my mom.

Together they saved every penny they could and when I was eight years old, their dreams came true when they purchased our home on North Shore Drive, on Anna Maria Island. Six years later, our house burned down. My guess is that most will have forgotten why we left but as we pulled back onto the island after two and a half years, my nerves set in.

Anna Maria Island and Long Boat Key combined have a population of around ten thousand residents. That makes us large enough to warrant having our own grocery stores and banks, but leaves us small enough that everyone knows everyone’s business. Gossip has always been huge and on a daily basis, some new tidbit would roll in with the morning tide only to roll back out by the end of the day.

The plan was always to return. That’s where our home, memories, family, and life are meant to be.

My parents talked endlessly about the day we would return and last week, when they told me that today would be the day, a little part of me squealed with joy. I know that things between Beau and I aren’t going to be the same but just the thought of seeing him again fills me with happiness.

I don’t have a lot of clothes, most of them I hand made, but I try on every dress that I have and settle on a teal one. My mother says it makes my eyes stand out. I’m not sure when the first time we will see each other again might be, but just in case, I need to look good. I also wouldn’t be lying if I said that hopefully there will be just some small part of him that will see me and regret the way he ended things.

Seeing him on the beach with Grant, nerves and butterflies fill me up on the inside. He is so much taller than I remember, his hair is longer, and his body thinner. He’s wearing a pair of board shorts, a sun shirt, and just for a moment, a smile. He laughs at something but I can’t tear my eyes away from him to see what.

Chase calls out to them but Grant is the only one to come over. When Beau finally turns around, faces me, and our eyes lock . . . I could have cried tears of joy. I missed him so desperately. In this moment I would have forgiven him for everything.

“Hey Beau,” I say to him. Seconds pass. He doesn’t come any closer and he doesn’t say anything in return.

I watch as the expression on his face shifts to one of anger. His look becomes menacing right before he jerks around and walks away. Grant calls out after him but he never looks back.

Tears fill my eyes. So this is what it looks like to watch him walk away from me. In many ways, this is how he should have done it two and a half years ago. At least this way I can see it versus being left with a few words and nothing else. After all, seeing is believing, right? Watching him, closure begins to wash over me. I will never understand what I did to him to make him treat me this way, but what I do know, is that I deserve more. I deserve to be treated better.

After saying goodbye to Grant and Chase, I calmly walk back to the street until I am out of sight. It’s then that I take off running with tears streaming down my face. My feet in thin sandals pound on the hot pavement, taking me to the one and only place where I feel safe. I run down the dock, into the sand, and circle back to sit under it, between the dunes in the shade. I don’t want anyone to see me. I just need to hide.

I never had any expectations for what a reunion with him might be like, but I didn’t think it would be like this. The way he looked at me was almost frightening. Not once in all the years that we were friends, had he ever given me any type of look that screamed anger or disgust like this one did.

Shaking, I pull my knees up into my chest, wrap my arms around them, and bury my face.

Moving away from the island had been the worst experience of my life.

Dad lost his job, so the plan had been to move into a smaller home on the mainland and rent ours out for a while. With the income from the tourists, we would have made triple the monthly mortgage amount, which would’ve allowed us to pay back the payments missed and leave us a little to live off of. But instead, our home somehow accidentally caught on fire and burned down. With the missed mortgage payments, the insurance company wasn’t being paid either, and they denied the fire coverage and personal content coverage. Our home defaulted to the bank.

We were officially homeless and broke. My family and I still ended up leaving the island, but due to the circumstances, we ended up leaving Florida too.

And then, to top it all off . . . I lost Beau.

At some point I pick my head and peek through the wood beams of the dock. I am shocked to see Beau sitting by himself on the beach. His knees are drawn up too and he’s staring at the water.

Should I go over to him? Should I try to talk to him? I have questions that I need answered. I want to know why? Adrenaline courses through me as I shift to move out from under the dock. Footsteps suddenly come from somewhere behind me and I freeze.

The dock creaks as someone walks toward me, over me, and then down to the beach. Peeking through the cracks again, I see that it is Drew.

“Hey man, what are you doing?” Drew asks him, while sitting down next to him.

“Nothing,” Beau says, picking up the sand by his feet and letting it fall through his fingers. His voice, it has changed.

“Matt told me about Leila,” he says.

“Matt has a big mouth.” Anger seeps out in Beau’s tone. My mouth and my heart frown.

“Seriously though, tell me what you are thinking.” Drew bumps their shoulders.

“I’m thinking that I hate her!” he says with such force and utter disdain.

The air in my lungs stops moving and I feel temporarily suffocated.
He hates me?
Why does he hate me? I could never hate him. Hearing him say this crushes me. My eyes squeeze shut and my hands fold into my chest. I bend over from the excruciating pain that’s ripping through me.

After running down here to the Point, and hearing his words, my whole body overheats and flushes. Tears are running down my face and sweat is trickling down my back. Any thoughts I had of confronting him just deflated. Sitting under here in the dirty sand, I know my dress is ruined and I look disgusting.

“You don’t mean that,” Drew says gently.

“Oh, yes I do!” Looking back through the crack, I see Beau throw down the rest of the sand and stand up. He starts pacing back and forth in front of Drew.

Drew watches him.

“I don’t understand. Why? Why won’t you tell me what happened?” Drew’s voice is pleading and slightly animated.

Beau stops and stands in front of Drew. “Because! There’s no point. I’d like to just forget it all and forget her,” Beau yells, throwing his hands out to the side.

Hearing him talk about me this way, I gasp and throw my hands over my face but not before the sound escapes my mouth.

Both Beau and Drew hear the noise and they look my way.

Not moving a muscle, I’m hoping that I am hidden enough where they can’t spot me.

“Alright, whatever. We need to get back before Dad starts looking for us.” Drew stands and returns his focus back to Beau. The two brothers eye each other for a moment. A silent conversation is passing between them and I wish I knew what it was.

Beau lets out a sigh. “Okay. He is the last thing that I need to deal with today.”

“I hear you.” Drew pats Beau on the back.

Slowly, they come closer to me. I sink into the furthest, shadiest part that I can and watch their feet as they pass over me. As soon as I can no longer hear the footsteps, tears once again pour out of my eyes. Although my sobs are silent, they are rocking through me. I am devastated. Over and over I repeat his words in my mind.

He said he hates me.

He said he wants to forget me.

I believed in us and I believed in him. How could he have been friends with me for so many years and then say things like that? But then again, I remember this is what I asked for. My heart shatters and my soul feels lost.

What type of person treats someone that they supposedly care about this way? Maybe that’s what I should have been asking myself all along,
did he ever really care about me?

Conversations flood my mind as time passes and the sun lowers in the sky. I replay my last day here, from two and half years ago. I should have listened to what I was told and not been so hopeful. The truth has been staring me in the face the entire time and I have been hanging on to nothing and for no reason. I feel stupid and naïve.

Anger settles into the bottom of my stomach and slowly the tears stop.

I am not this girl.

I am not the girl who cries over a boy.

Somewhere, somehow, a cool peace slides over me almost like ice. A wall around my heart builds and hardens.

I know that seeing him on a daily basis is probably going to have its setbacks, but it’s in this moment that I decide it’s finally time that I move on from Beau Hale.

SWEAT DRIPS FROM my hair, over my forehead, and down the side of my face. I’m in the zone and nothing is going to pull me out of it.

I toss the ball high to serve and watch in slow motion as it flies over the net and Nate responds. His feet are quick but mine are quicker. The muscles in my arms are tense. They’re coiled so tight, just waiting to strike. Over and over the ball comes at me. Its speed has to be close to one hundred and fifty miles an hour and all I can think is the faster the better!

Tennis has always been my escape. My brother Drew swims and over the last few years, I’ve noticed that Matt has picked up running but for me . . . I need the impact to release the frustration, anger, and heartache that I am consumed with.

Dad was smart to put me in tennis. Although, I would not, and will not ever hit a person, hitting a little yellow ball brings me great relief.

Nate hits the ball, returning the serve, and still in slow motion it heads my way. Swinging the racket with as much power as I can, I connect with the ball. It’s as if the harder I can hit it, the more tension releases. I can’t even count how many times I have imagined that the ball is my dad’s face.