The Last Song (20 page)

Will. It had been four hours, and the guy still hadn’t left. He’d stopped knocking a long time ago and simply perched himself
just beyond the crest of the dune, his back to the house. Technically, he was on the public beach, so neither she nor her
father could do anything except ignore him. Which was what she and her dad—who, oddly, was reading the Bible again—were trying
to do.

Jonah, on the other hand, simply couldn’t ignore him. He seemed to find Will’s vigil transfixing, like a UFO landing near
the pier or Bigfoot trudging through the sand. Though he was wearing his Transformers pajamas and should have gone to bed
half an hour earlier, he’d begged his dad to let him stay up for a little while, because, in his words, “if I go to bed too
early, I might wet the bed.”

Right.

He hadn’t wet his bed since he was a toddler, and she knew her dad didn’t believe a word of it. His acquiescence probably
had to do with the fact that it was the first full evening they’d all spent together since she’d arrived and—depending on
what Officer Johnson told them tomorrow—maybe their last. She figured her dad simply wanted to prolong the experience.

Which was understandable, of course, and sort of made her feel bad about the whole wanting-to-leave thing. Making dinner with
him had been more fun than she’d thought it would be, since he hadn’t laced his questions with insinuations the way her mom
did lately. Still, she had no intention of staying any longer than she had to, even if it was hard on her dad. The least she
could do was try to make tonight enjoyable.

Which was impossible, of course.

“How long do you think he’s going to sit out there?” Jonah mumbled. By her reckoning, he’d asked the same question at least
five times, even though neither she nor her dad had answered. This time, however, her dad set aside his Bible.

“Why don’t you go ask him,” he suggested.

“Yeah, right,” Jonah snorted. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“He’s not my boyfriend, either,” Ronnie added.

“He’s acting like your boyfriend.”

“He’s not, okay?” She flipped to a new page.

“Then why is he sitting out there?” He cocked his head, trying to solve the riddle. “I mean, it’s just weird, don’t you think?
Sitting out there for hours, waiting for you to talk to him. I mean, we’re talking about my sister. My
sister
.”

“I can hear you,” Ronnie said. In the last twenty minutes, she figured she had reread the same paragraph six times.

“I’m just saying it’s weird,” Jonah mused, sounding like a baffled scientist. “Why would he wait outside for
my sister
?”

Ronnie glanced up, watching as her dad tried and failed to stifle a smile.

She returned to her book and began working through the same paragraph with renewed determination, and for the next couple
of minutes there was silence in the room.

Aside from the sound of Jonah fidgeting and muttering by the window.

She tried to ignore him. She scooted herself down, perched her feet on the end table, and forced herself to concentrate on
the words. For a minute or so, she was able to block out everything around her and was on the verge of slipping back into
the story when she heard Jonah’s little voice again.

“How long do you think he’s going to sit out there?” Jonah mumbled.

She slammed the book shut. “Fine!” she cried, thinking again that her brother knew precisely what buttons to push to drive
her crazy. “I get it! I’ll go!”

A strong breeze was blowing, carrying with it the scent of salt and pine, as Ronnie stepped off the porch and headed toward
Will. If he heard the door close, he gave no indication; instead, he seemed content to toss tiny seashells at the spider crabs
that were scurrying to their holes.

A layer of marine haze screened out the stars, making the night seem colder and darker than before. Ronnie crossed her arms,
trying to keep the chill away. Will, she noticed, was in the same pair of shorts and T-shirt he’d worn all day. She wondered
whether he was cold, then forced the thought away. It wasn’t important, she reminded herself as he turned toward her. In the
dark, she couldn’t read his expression, but as she stared at him, she realized that she was less angry at him than exasperated
by his persistence.

“You’ve got my brother completely wigged out,” Ronnie stated in what she hoped was an authoritative voice. “You should go.”

“What time is it?”

“It’s after ten.”

“It took you long enough to get out here.”

“I shouldn’t have had to come out here at all. I told you to leave earlier.” She glared at him.

His mouth tensed into a flat line. “I want to know what happened,” he said.

“Nothing happened.”

“Then tell me what Ashley said to you.”

“She didn’t say anything.”

“I saw the two of you talking!” he accused.

This was why she hadn’t wanted to come out here in the first place; this was what she’d wanted to avoid. “Will—”

“Why did you run off after talking to her? And why did it take you four hours to come outside to finally talk to me?”

She shook her head, refusing to admit how burned she felt. “It’s not important.”

“In other words, she told you something, didn’t she? What did she say? That we were still seeing each other? Because we’re
not. It’s over between us.”

It took a moment for Ronnie to realize what he meant. “She was your girlfriend?”

“Yeah,” he answered. “For two years.”

When Ronnie said nothing, he stood up and took a step closer to her. “What exactly did she say to you?”

But Ronnie barely heard his voice. Instead, she thought back to the first time she’d seen Ashley, the first time she’d seen
Will. Ashley, with her perfect bikini-clad figure, staring at Will…

Vaguely, she heard Will going on. “What? You’re not even going to talk to me? You make me sit out here for hours and you won’t
even dignify my question with a simple answer?”

But Ronnie barely heard it. Instead, she remembered the way Ashley had looked that day on the sidelines. Posing prettily,
clapping… wanting Will to notice her?

Why? Because Ashley was trying to win him back? And she feared Ronnie might get in the way?

With that, things began to click in place. But before she could think of what to say, Will shook his head.

“I thought you were different. I just thought…” He stared at her, his face a mixture of anger and disappointment, before suddenly
turning away and heading for the beach. “Hell, I don’t know what I thought,” he tossed over his shoulder.

She took a step forward and was about to call after him when she noticed a flicker of light down the beach near the water’s
edge. The light rose and fell, as if someone were tossing a…

Fireball, she realized.

She felt her breath catch in her throat, knowing Marcus was there, and took an involuntary step backward. She had a sudden
image of him sneaking toward the nest while she slept outside. She wondered how close he might have come. Why wouldn’t he
leave her alone? Was he stalking her?

She’d seen stories on the news and heard about things like this. Though she liked to think she would know what to do and could
handle herself in almost any situation, this was different. Because Marcus was different.

Because Marcus scared her.

Will was already a couple of houses down the beach, his figure vanishing in the night. She thought about calling him back
and telling him everything, but the last thing she wanted was to stay outside any longer than she had to. Nor did she want
Marcus to connect her to Will. In any case, there was no her and Will. Not anymore, anyway. Now it was just her.

And Marcus.

Panicking, she took another step back, then forced herself to stop. If he knew she was scared, it might make things worse.
Instead, she forced herself into the circle of the porch light and deliberately turned to stare in Marcus’s direction.

She couldn’t see him—only the flicker of light as it bobbed up and down. Marcus, she knew, wanted her to be scared, which
set something off inside her. Continuing to stare at him, she put her hands on her hips and raised her chin defiantly in his
direction. Her blood pounded in her chest, but she held her position even as the fireball settled in his hand. A moment later,
the light went out and she knew Marcus had closed his fist over it, announcing his approach.

Still, she refused to move. She wasn’t certain what she’d do if he suddenly appeared only a few yards away, but as the seconds
became one minute and then another, she knew he’d decided it was best to stay away. Tired of waiting and satisfied that she’d
conveyed her message, she turned and headed back inside.

It was only as she leaned against the door after closing it that she realized her hands were shaking.

M
arcus

I
want to get something to eat at the diner before it closes,” Blaze pleaded.

“Then go,” Marcus said. “I’m not hungry.”

Blaze and Marcus were at Bower’s Point, along with Teddy and Lance, who’d picked up two of the ugliest girls Marcus had ever
seen and were in the process of getting them drunk. Marcus had been annoyed to find them here in the first place, and then
Blaze had been hounding him for the past hour, asking where he’d been all day.

He got the feeling she knew it had something to do with Ronnie, because Blaze wasn’t stupid. Blaze had known all along that
Marcus was interested in her, which explained why she’d planted those CDs in Ronnie’s bag. It was the perfect solution to
get Ronnie to keep her distance… which meant that Marcus wouldn’t have a chance to see Ronnie either.

That pissed him off. And then to find her here, whining about being hungry and hanging all over him and pestering him with
questions…

“I don’t want to go alone,” she whined again.

“Didn’t you hear me?” he snarled. “Do you ever listen to a single thing I say? I said I’m not hungry.”

“I’m not saying you have to eat anything…,” Blaze mumbled, subdued.

“Would you just shut up about it?”

That stopped her. At least for a few minutes, anyway. He could tell by the way she was pouting that she wanted him to apologize
for something. Yeah, well, it wasn’t going to happen.

Turning toward the water, he lit his fireball, angry at the fact that she was still here. Angry that Teddy and Lance were
here, when he wanted some peace and quiet. Angry at the fact that Blaze had run Ronnie off and especially angry that he was
angry about any of it. It wasn’t like him, and he hated the way it made him feel. He wanted to hit something or someone, and
when he glanced at Blaze and saw her pouting, she was tops on the list. He turned away, wishing he could drink his beer and
turn up the music and just think in private for a while. Without all these people crowding him.

Besides, he wasn’t really angry at Blaze. Hell, when he’d first heard what she’d done, he’d been kind of pleased about it,
thinking it might smooth the road between him and Ronnie. You scratch my back, I scratch yours, that kind of thing. But when
he’d suggested it to Ronnie, she’d reacted like he had some kind of disease, like she’d rather die than come near him. But
he wasn’t the type to give up, and he figured she’d eventually come to realize it was her only way out of this mess. So he’d
gone to her house for a little visit, hoping for a chance to talk. He’d decided he would tone down the act and instead listen
sympathetically when she talked about the awful thing that Blaze did. They might have gone for a walk and maybe ended up under
the pier, and then whatever happened, happened. Right?

But when he got to her house, Will was there. Of all people, Will, just sitting there on that dune, waiting to talk to her.
And Ronnie eventually did come outside and talk with him. Actually, they seemed to argue, but by the way they were acting,
there was plainly something between them, which pissed him off, too. Because it meant they knew each other. Because it meant
they were probably an item.

Which meant he’d been reading her all wrong.

And then? Oh, that was the kicker. After Will left, Ronnie realized that she had two visitors, not just one. When she noticed
him watching her, he knew one of two things was going to happen. Either she’d come out and talk to him in the hopes of getting
Blaze to tell the truth, or she’d act all scared like she had earlier and run inside. He liked the fact that he could scare
her. He could use it to his advantage.

But she did neither of those things. Instead, she stared in his direction as if to say,
Bring it on
. She stood on the porch, her body language signaling angry defiance, until finally she went back into the house.

No one did that to him. Especially girls. Who in the hell did she think she was? Tight little body or not, he didn’t like
it. He didn’t like it at all.

Blaze interrupted his thoughts. “Are you sure you don’t want to come?”

Marcus turned toward her, feeling the sudden urge to clear his mind, to cool off. He knew just what he needed and who would
give it to him.