Chapter Four

CHAPTER FOUR

It seemed a shame to be so close to the sea and not to dabble in it just a little. There was nowhere Lu liked better. Sometimes he thought he’d been born of the sea, a Boy of Sorrows, and one day he’d simply walk back into the waves and disappear.

“Fitting,” she said.

“Why is that?”

She stared at the ocean with a fierceness that belied her earlier good nature.

He saw long canines, guillotines, and axes in her eyes.

“You get rid of all of us, don’t you? In pieces and parts. How many are found? How long does it take? You have this life of secrecy. And in the end, you think you’ll just disappear and nobody will notice. It doesn’t happen like that.”

“It happens exactly like that.”

“It doesn’t. There’s always somebody who will miss you. Somebody who will know you’re gone. You think you can live on this Earth and not leave some kind of imprint?”

Had he been the laughing type, he would have laughed at this, but it didn’t seem terribly funny. It just seemed terrible. “Who’s going to miss you?” he asked. “Your mother? She’s dead. Your father? You wish he was. Your boyfriend? Think he’s gonna miss you?”

She leaned back against the seat. “Miss me? No. Look for me? That’s something else altogether.” She turned to face him. “He’ll come looking. He probably already started. And when he does, you’d better be ready.”

“I’m not afraid of him.”

“You should be. I am.”

Lu sighed. Hopped out of the cab, went around, and wrenched Montessa’s door open. Her hands, still padlocked to the door handle, were yanked away, and she nearly fell out. Lu grabbed her wrists, looked deep into her eyes. “Are you going to scream?” he asked her.

She swallowed hard. “Are you going to kill me?”

“Not right now, no.”

“Then I won’t scream.”

His skin was perfectly smooth, not a muscle moving. There was horror in such tranquility, in such lack of despair. He was raging inside, pacing inside of his brain with deft movements, but outside was that terrible placidity.

“I won’t. I promise.”

He nodded once, curtly, and unlocked her wrists from the door. They were still bound together, and he grabbed the rope with one hand. “Come on, then.”

He dragged her down a craggy path, where she stepped on rocks and pebbles and pieces of sharp shell with her bare feet, but clamped her lips together. She wouldn’t cry out. She’d take that pain deep inside of herself. Wrap her soul around it. Tether herself. He didn’t slow down as he pulled her along behind him. Anyone watching from far away would only see a young man with shiny black hair leading his girlfriend down to the water. Something sweet. Something playful. Montessa closed her eyes briefly. So few people see what’s right in front of them: the beauty and magic and misery and sorrow. It’s all lost.

“Keep up,” he growled and yanked her closer to him.

She banged her knee against a large rock and yelped. Montessa bit her lip again and limped down to the beach behind him. The waves were white and frothy and furious. Not the cool, soothing waves that were shown on tropical beaches.

“They’re angry,” she said and tried not to notice when he watched her from the corner of his eye.

“That’s a stupid thing to say.”

Her ears burned. “Stupid to you or not, it doesn’t make it any less true.”

They watched the waves, heard the crashing, and noticed the sun coloring the clouds orange.

“I want to go in,” Lu said, pulling on her bound hands again. “Let’s go.”

“I don’t know how to swim,” she said, and for the first time, her voice shook.

Lu nearly smiled. “You won’t need to.”

The water was shockingly cold around her ankles and knees. The salt stung the wounds on her bare feet, the scratches on her arms and legs, but at the same time . . .

“Why are you crying, girl?”

“My name is Montessa,” she said, and that’s all she could say. The water moved in and out, over her skin and around her legs, seeping into her soul. Tears fell down her face, mixing into the ocean, and Lu thought about how he had heard salt water healed everything. Sweat and tears and the sea. Maybe it was true.

He drew her farther out. The waves bumped around their knees and thighs. They both gasped at the cold around their waists and chests. The waves drew back, roared around their shoulders, and drew back again. Lu put his arm around Montessa’s waist to keep her from falling.

“I always wanted to see the ocean,” she said, and she was crying again, her wet hair falling into her eyes and spilling over his hands.

“I’m sorry it’s with me,” Lu told her, and realized it was the first time he had ever apologized to a victim, and his blood burned, boiled, and the water churned around them.

“Too hot,” Montessa gasped out, spitting water from her mouth. Lu took a deep breath, tried to control his rage, tried to cool the water before it gave them blisters, tortured even more by the heavy salt.

“Let’s go,” he said roughly, and she followed, wiping her eyes awkwardly on her wet shoulder, her clothes dripping and salt baptizing her body.

“Thank you,” she said quietly when they reached the cab. Her clothes were wet, but not dripping. She climbed in obediently, moved to the back, and sat in her chair without fighting. “May I please keep my hands in front of me this time? It really hurts to have them tied behind me.” Lu paused. “I won’t do anything,” Montessa said. She smiled, and it was full of sadness so bright that Lu nearly bared his teeth at it. “You probably figured it out by now. I’m not the type of person who does . . . anything.” She looked away, blinking her eyes again.

Lu had seen enough salt for the time being.

He let her bound hands rest in her lap, tied her firmly to her chair. “Go to sleep,” he said and slid into the driver’s seat.

He noticed the black hood lying between the door and the seat. He stuffed it into the jockey box, shifted into gear, and started to drive.