Tryst (Take It Off #8)(12)
Author: Cambria Hebert

It certainly wasn’t the worst idea I’d ever heard. At least if I wasn’t here, I wouldn’t have to listen to Joanna tell me what a huge mistake I was making.

“I guess I could go for a few days.”

“At least a week, Talie,” Claire said.

“Fine.”

She grinned. “There’s a whole rack of new bathing suits out there. You can pick one out with the new purse.”

“Yeah, because this week hasn’t been shitty enough. Now I have to subject myself to bathing suit shopping.”

Her phone rang again. She groaned.

“I’ll just go look around.”

She nodded. Just as she picked up the phone, I remembered something. “Claire?” I asked.

She held the phone away from her as she looked at me.

“Who’s Salty?”

“My aunt’s cat.”

As I wandered out into the store, steering clear of the bathing suits (evil things), I had to laugh. I laughed so loud a nearby woman gave me a strange look.

My life was reduced to living with a cat. I was turning into a cat lady.

Of course, at this point, I’d take a cat over a man any day. Men weren’t to be trusted, especially with matters of the heart. Hell, maybe when I got home from vacation, I would get a cat of my own.

I laughed again, this time a little more to myself. I had to laugh. If I didn’t, I might start crying and never stop.

7

Talie

Topsail Island was located on the coast of North Carolina and was just over a two-hour drive from Raleigh. The island itself was approximately twenty-six miles long and completely surrounded by water. There were only two ways on and off the island and both of those ways were by bridge.

This wasn’t the first time I’d ever been to Topsail. I’d come here many times as a kid with my parents and brother, but that seemed like a lifetime ago. This would be the first time I’d ever come here alone.

Coming alone wasn’t depressing to me. If anything, it was refreshing. The more miles that slipped between Raleigh and me, the more at ease I felt. I did need this. I needed time to think, to process, and to feel. I didn’t tell anyone where I was going; the only person that knew was Claire, and I made her promise not to tell a soul.

When I turned onto the two-lane road that would carry me to the island, I rolled the window down and let the thick, humid air swirl inside the car. The heady scent of salt pressed against my skin and lips. I knew if I were to stick out my tongue, the sharp taste would already be on my lips.

My hair blew around in the breeze, and for once I didn’t worry about how tangled it was getting. It didn’t matter. No one here knew me. No one here cared what I looked like. It was freeing to not have to worry who I might see at the grocery store or worry what someone might think.

The road was empty at this late hour. It was already after nine and the sky was dark. It always seemed darker at the beach. Without the lights of busy streets and strips of shopping centers, the sky took on a velvet quality that I didn’t often get to see.

The shape of the bridge came into view, and I smiled. I couldn’t wait to bury my toes in the sand. I looked ahead at the way the bridge rose up off the ground, supported on thick legs to curve up over the sound, the intercoastal waterway. Part of me was sad it wasn’t light out because the views from the top of the bridge would be spectacular and go on for miles.

But there was always tomorrow.

Just as the road started to gradually lift and lead onto the bridge, my car made a very loud clunking sound and then groaned like it was going to come apart at any second.

Even though my foot was pressed on the gas, the car slowed considerably, idling along like a turtle who had nowhere it needed to be. “Come on!” I yelled at the dashboard as I gave the steering wheel a smack.

Suddenly, the wheel seemed extremely hard to steer. What usually was an easy, effortless task now seemed like something that required large muscles.

Did I mention I was lacking in the muscle department?

I applied the brakes and fought the Jetta to the side of the road. I wasn’t about to try and make it over the bridge like this. My luck, I would plunge over the side and get eaten by a shark when I hit the water.

The loud rattling sounds the stupid car made drowned out the cadence of the ocean waves and caused some of the peace I found on my way here to disappear.

After several long moments of just sitting there, leaning my forehead on the steering wheel and asking God why I was cursed, I turned off the engine. The car stuttered and then died. I knew it wasn’t going to turn back on.

“And the hits just keep on coming,” I said out loud.

I opened the car door, leaving it open so the light would stay on for a few moments, and bent down to look for the hood release latch. After I found it and popped the hood, I stood there staring down in the dark at the insides of a car I couldn’t see.

Then I remembered my phone. The flashlight app was handy in moments like this. Even with the engine and innards of the car visible, I had no clue what was wrong with it.

“I am so getting a new car.” I sighed. I called up the number to AAA in my phone (I might not know how to fix cars, but I knew how to call people who did) and wondered how long it would take them to send a tow.

A pair of headlights appeared traveling in my direction. I raced around the side of the car and leapt into the driver’s seat, slamming the door behind me. After the way this week was going, I wouldn’t be surprised at all if the person behind the wheel of that car was a serial killer out looking for his next victim.

The car slowed and pulled directly behind my car.

See? Total serial killer.

I heard the slam of the door and watched as a large, dark figure approached. I could make out nothing because his headlights turned him into nothing but a dark shadow.

The only thing I knew for sure was that it was a man. Unless, of course, it was a woman. Judging from the sheer size of the black shape, if it was, then she would have to be a professional body builder.

Seconds later, a darkened face appeared at my window.

“Car trouble?” he rumbled. His voice was deep and his southern accent was strong.

I screamed.

I forgot my window was down!

I jammed the key back into the ignition and turned over the engine. It made a puny, pathetic sound and stalled out. The windows were electric. I couldn’t get it up if the car wouldn’t start.

“Please don’t kill me!” I burst out.

A laugh floated through the night air and wrapped around my body. He put one of his hands on the door so that it rested where the window should be, his fingers falling down the inside of the door.