Beachcombing in the Bahamas (Once Again #11)

Chapter 22

22

I t was a scream of horror, a scream of fury.

And it came from outside of them, from the short hallway that led to her front door.

Yvette went rigid beneath him, her eyes tightly closed. She’d heard it too. And she knew what it meant.

Brock turned his head because he couldn’t hide from this. Maybe it was what he’d wanted all along. No maybe about it. He’d wanted them all to know.

But not this way.

Kacey stood framed in the hallway, both hands to her mouth, her eyes wide with shock. Just behind her, Jodi and Garth. Brock couldn’t bring himself to ask where the others were.

Garth said, “Holy hell.”

And Brock felt Yvette shudder around him, through him, taking him down. Because while he’d wanted their relationship out in the open, she would never forgive him—or herself—for the way it happened.

He did the only thing he could. “Get the hell out,” he bellowed through crunching teeth and bared lips.

Grabbing Kacey’s arm and pulling her away, Garth threw his words over his shoulder, “Yeah, but there’s a problem. We need you, Dad.” Then Garth herded the two girls out of the room and slammed the door.

Eyes tightly closed, Yvette whispered, her voice weak, “Wasn’t the door locked?”

Still buried deep inside her, still craving her, he muttered, “We came through the back door. I thought the front door was already locked.”

She covered her eyes with her hand as if, even with her eyes closed, there was too much light on them. “I don’t know. I don’t remember. I came in to change into my suit. But I don’t remember about the door.” She dropped her hand, and tears leaked down her temples.

“It’ll be okay,” he murmured, trying to soothe her. “I promise.”

She shoved him off her then, scrambling out of the tangled blankets, backing up against the wall, so beautiful in her nakedness. And yet her face was a mask of horror.

“Get dressed,” she snapped at him in a voice he’d never heard before.

He grabbed his trunks off the floor. She pushed past him to her closet and dragged out another sundress, pulling it over her head, then grappled with the drawers until she found a pair of panties. Stepping into them, she kept her back to him.

She would never forgive him for this.

Bare-chested and pulling on his trunks, he said, “I’ll talk to them. You can stay here.”

She whirled on him. “I’m not a child you need to protect. I can handle this.” Then she poked him in the chest. “I told you this would happen. But you wouldn’t stop. You wouldn’t listen.”

His own anger welled up. “You didn’t sound like you hated what I was doing to you. In fact, you loved it.” He recognized the danger immediately. This was what would break them apart, the anger between them, not everyone else’s horror.

She slapped the flat of her hand against his chest, not hard, and yet he felt rage and fear seething in her. “I wanted it when it was a secret. When it was just us. When the world didn’t have a say in it,” she said, each word clipped, her voice harsh.

He grabbed her wrist, pulled her close. “Don’t let this ruin us.” His voice was softer, his heart aching at the spitfire in her eyes.

“I don’t know what it’ll do,” she said through clenched teeth. “I just know I need to talk to my girls. Now. Before Adeline gets back.”

That was her greatest fear, what Adeline would do, what weapons she would use against Yvette. And if the girls were angry because of this, he wasn’t sure his prediction that her daughters wouldn’t mind could stand up to whatever Adeline dished out under these circumstances.

The absolute worst circumstances.

Her legs trembled. It wasn’t just the fear of opening that door and having to look at her daughters’ faces.

It was him. It was what he’d done to her in that bed. The way he made her feel. The glory of it still trembling through her limbs.

And as angry as she was, as angry as she wanted to stay so she could deal with it all, she could never forget how good they were together. Because she loved him.

God help her.

Would she have to sacrifice her daughters to keep what they had? Or would she have to sacrifice him to keep her daughters?

“I’ll do the talking,” she murmured, not wanting him to pick up on the panic in her voice or the shudder that ran through her body.

The kids were out there, milling around just off the path. Thank God Adeline wasn’t with them.

A thundercloud darkened Kacey’s face. Yvette couldn’t bear to look at Jodi’s reaction. She kept her voice as calm as possible. “We need to talk.”

Kacey slashed an angry hand through the air. “Look.” Her voice sliced through Yvette. “Right now, I don’t care who you’re screwing. I don’t care if it’s Uncle Brock or anyone else. I don’t even care if it’s Uncle Trevor.”

The words slapped Yvette across the face. But even worse was the movement on the driveway. No gasp, no cry. But she knew Adeline was back. And when she turned, her former mother-in-law lasered her with a look that stripped every ounce of flesh from her body and gutted her like a filet knife.

But she had to concentrate on her daughters. “Kacey?—”

Kacey didn’t let her get another word out, not even a sound. “The only thing I want from you now is Uncle Brock. We need his help.”

Yvette couldn’t help saying, “Why didn’t you call?” Mired in her own guilt and fear, she didn’t even ask what was wrong.

Angry red splotches marred Kacey’s cheeks. “I tried. I called you both. Over and over. And now I know why neither of you answered.” Her words came out through clenched teeth.

Yvette could barely swallow down her bile. Her daughter had needed her; it didn’t matter why. And she hadn’t been there. She remembered the deliberately taunting sashay she’d made on her way back to the cottage, willing Brock to follow her. She hadn’t even thought about the phone she’d left on a table by the lounge chairs. Brock’s had been there too.

She was guilty of so many bad decisions.

Maybe she deserved whatever punishment Adeline would mete out.

Then Brock took over. “What’s wrong? Why were you trying to get hold of me?”

For one moment, Kacey stared him down. Then she burst into gasping sobs, her fists screwing into her eyes. Jodi threw an arm around her sister’s shoulder, and Yvette couldn’t bear to see the look of censure in her eyes.

“Tell me what happened,” Brock insisted.

Garth answered, “Darryl got arrested.”

Brock muttered, “What the hell?” Then he threw his hands up. “Why?”

“We don’t know,” Garth admitted. “Suddenly there were all these island cops there. Then they marched him out and shoved him in a car.” He gave a helpless shrug. “I was in the steam room,” he added. “I heard a commotion outside and when I went out there, it was all about Darryl.” He lifted his shoulders in mystification, his hands out.

Then Kacey said amid her sobs, “They just took him away. No one would tell us why.”

Brock was all business. “Where did they take him?”

Jodi rubbed Kacey’s back. “To the police station in town. When we couldn’t get hold of you, Malcolm, Ethan, and the girls followed the cops in the other Jeep so we’d know where they were going. They’re waiting for us there.”

So that’s where the others were. Yvette hadn’t even bothered to ask. She hadn’t thought about it in her concentration on her daughters.

“And we came back here to get you.” Garth glanced at Yvette, and she felt his unyielding gaze pierce right through her.

Oh God, what had she done? She wasn’t there for her girls. She’d left her phone outside. No mother should ever do that. It didn’t matter how old your kids were, you always had your phone with you.

And you never put a man or sex above your children.

Brock shoved his hands through his hair, already a tangled riot after what they’d done in bed. She winced at the memory. He swore. “All right. I’ll change, then we’ll go over there.” He looked at his son, already strategizing. “Trevor’s back. We’ll take the Lincoln. That’ll give a better impression than the Jeep.” He waved a hand, indicating Garth’s shorts. “You should change too. Wear a button-down shirt and slacks.”

“What should I wear?” Kacey asked, the tremble still in her voice.

Almost as if it were automatic, Brock said, “You stay here. We want to make this look official.”

“I’m going,” she snapped.

He raked her with his boardroom gaze. “You asked me to help. And it’s my opinion that it’s detrimental to have an emotional young woman right there while we talk this out.”

“I’m not emotional. I’m just mad.” She shot a glare at Yvette.

Brock was already moving, decision made. And she saw the marks she’d left on his back. She prayed no one else noticed. He waved a hand at Trevor, who was walking over to them.

Didn’t Brock even get that Adeline had seen them, had probably heard everything?

There wasn’t an ounce of fear in his voice as he called out, “There’s a problem. Darryl’s been arrested. We don’t know why. But he’s in town at the jail. You and Garth need to go over there with me.” Then he pointed a finger at Trevor’s casual shorts. “Wear something more formal. Slacks, at least.”

He marched to his cottage door just as Adeline called out in a strident voice, “What on earth is going on?”

Lorna put an arm around her shoulder. “Let’s go inside and have Olive make us a nice cup of tea. Then Yvette can tell us why the men are going to the jail.”

That’s when Adeline smiled. It was like Hannibal Lecter smiling at Clarice Starling through the bars in The Silence of the Lambs .

And it chilled Yvette to the bone.