Swim Deep - Page 73

I fought against the thick concern I heard in his voice. I struggled against the warmth of his hands on my shoulders.

“I’ll listen to you,” I got out in a choked voice. “But I’m leaving as soon as you’re done. And I don’t… “ I sobbed raggedly, pushing at his forearm, “want you to touch me.” I backed away from him. “You’ve lost any right you had to do that.”

We went to the seating area, Evan taking the chair and me sinking straight-backed into the corner of the couch. For a few seconds, he just stared blankly at the empty hearth of the fireplace. I thought of how many times I’d imagined us being in this exact spot come fall or winter, of relishing the warm fire and each other’s company.

I hated myself for my stupidity. I despised myself in a way I hadn’t known was possible before I’d looked at that photo of Elizabeth Madaster today.

“I’m sorry,” Evan said hoarsely. “I don’t know where to begin. I’ve never spoken out loud about most of this to another person.”

“If we’re going to do this, then do it completely. Start at the beginning. And Evan.” He glanced over at me with those quicksilver eyes of his. “Don’t leave anything out. Don’t give me anything less than the truth. If you lie to me again, and I find out about it… ”

I shook my head, unable to say exactly what the consequences of that action would be.

“It’ll make things worse,” I said simply at last. “If that’s possible.”

“I have no desire to keep you in the dark. Not anymore.”

A thought occurred to me. I laughed, the sound seeming shrill and off-balance in my own ears. Who cared? It was either laugh or go insane, given the thought I’d just had.

“What is it? Anna?” Evan asked, sitting at the edge of his chair, his elbows on his knees, looking like he was ready to spring off the seat.

“You wouldn’t make love to me in the daylight. Not at first, you wouldn’t.”

He inhaled slowly, as if the action pained him.

“I couldn’t stand to touch you and see her face. At first, anyway,” he admitted. “But part of me knew, even from the beginning, that you weren’t the same. In reality, you might as well have been from another planet, you were so essentially different from Elizabeth.”

Even though his expression appeared fixed and grave, I saw the difference in him. I sensed it. His grief, even if I did question its veracity, was openly, unbearably, on display.

Rain peppered the windowpanes as Evan began his story. He told it uneasily, but doggedly, like each word, each morsel of knowledge had to be dug out of the dark places of his soul where they’d been wedged, and where they now festered.

“I realize you think that my feelings for you are associated with Elizabeth… that everything goes back to her. In a way you’re right, but not in the way you imagine.

“I was thirteen when I first saw Elizabeth. It was at a junior women’s golf tournament at my parents’ country club. I’d heard the name Madaster before. Noah was a member of my parents’ club. But at that time, they still lived on their ranch in the Carson Valley. Elizabeth went to school in Carson City. But that summer, the Madasters moved permanently here, to Les Jumeaux. They started showing up at the club regularly.

“I remember the exact moment I first laid eyes on her to this day. I was in the crowd with some of my friends. We all gawked in stunned silence while she holed out of a sand trap on the sixteenth.

“I’d never seen anything like her before. Every move she made, it was like a goddamn movie sound track started playing in my teenage brain.” Despite the self-derision in his tone, I caught that faraway hint of residual awe.

“She was graceful, but also purposeful. Forceful, even. Her will was like a brand on you. Beautiful doesn’t come close to describing her; she was something more. So full of—I don’t know—style, I guess. You felt her confidence. Her influence. Her charisma.

“And Elizabeth knew you felt it. Even then, she was extremely aware of her power over people… especially men. She knew perfectly well on that day that she held the crowd at that tournament in the palm of her hand. She was older than I was by two years. To a thirteen-year-old, she seemed like an adult. Like something from another world.”

“Was Wes with you on that day? At the club?” I asked.

He blinked at my question. “He was. What makes you ask that?”

I shrugged, trying to mask my bitterness. “It was the way you were talking just now—like you’d witnessed a goddess or something. I heard the same tone with Wes on the first day I met him, when he talked about Elizabeth.”

“You asked me to tell you the truth. I’m just trying to give you the full picture. Elizabeth’s allure… her sexual power. It’s key to understanding this story. Little did I know that my attraction to her, which started innocently enough, would become like a cancer that slowly started to eat away at me.

“I know that now, but back then, I was just a stupid, blind, dumbass kid. I worshipped her. It hurts more than I can explain, as I sit here right now, to have to admit that.”

“Why was she so special?” I asked. I’d been listening to all of this with a mixture of anger, jealousy, and absolute fascination.

“She wasn’t like anyone I’d ever known. She didn’t care what other people thought. I assume because most people either adored or envied her. The few who didn’t, hated her, more than likely because they’d encountered her venom in some way. But she just laughed at them. She saw their hatred as a weakness, a sure proof of her victory over them.

“She was wild. Daring. Noah had given her a rare, vintage Ferrari Spider when she got her driver’s permit. Cherry red. She wasn’t even old enough to get her license yet, but he let her drive it without adult supervision. It was a hugely inappropriate gift for a fifteen-year-old. He’d just smile when anyone—including his wife—brought up the fact that she was driving without a license. Noah would say that Elizabeth drove with more skill than 99.9 percent of the drivers on the road. He knew she was safe to drive it, and to hell with what the law said.

Tags: Beth Kery Romance
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