The Storm and the Darkness (32 page)

When he had made up his mind about coming to Maine, he wasn’t sure what he had expected exactly, but he could say confidently that it was not
this
. He never made predictions about outcome. As with everything in his life, Nicolas Deschanel had simply confidently forged ahead, assuming that everything would work out.

We might have actually saved her. When we came to the house, the situation was already dire, and Alex could have killed all three of them. Instead of lying on the floor in critical condition, Ana could be dead. I probably could have fucking
planned
a bit more, but the fact of the matter is, if we hadn’t showed up when we did, this would have been a completely different kind of party.

Nicolas took Ana’s right hand, the one that was not entwined with Finn’s. He could not shake from his mind the look on her face when she saw that he had arrived. Her lip had trembled, and the look on her face was one she had ever only shown to him; one of complete vulnerability, and loss of control.
 

“I am so sorry I wasn’t here sooner. I knew something was wrong, and I hesitated,” he said to her, keeping his voice low. He almost laughed at his attempt at privacy.
 

“I am kicking myself for not fucking coming with you. The truth is, though, my feelings were hurt that you didn’t invite me. I started to wonder if maybe I was smothering you, and that…well…that part of why you wanted to get away from New Orleans was
me
.” He almost stopped here, he continued on. “We always laughed at the fact that everyone wondered why we never married, and why we did our own thing, and I always thought that was something we shared together; our own private joke at the world. I always felt like I was laughing with you at some of the guys you would date. When you broke up with them, I assumed you didn’t care because you never seemed to. But…Oz…”
No, not now. I can’t do this now.

It felt good to get that off his chest. He hadn’t let himself think these things before. Action had always come easier than thought. Even when he decided to reason out a problem or situation, he rarely considered any one perspective for very long. Deep thought simply wasn’t in his makeup. Even when it came to Ana; if he saw she needed him, he was there. He didn’t need to know why, or to brood on it for long.
 

“Did I force my own beliefs on you, Ana?” He turned her hand over in his. The scratches were still red but already starting to scab over.
Yes, heal darling.
He wanted to ask her about what had happened here…what had happened between the last time he talked to her, over a week ago, and the point at which he and Oz joined the insanity they witnessed in the kitchen.
Did you run away? Did you run away to be with Finn? I can understand wanting to be away from your father…but how could you do it to me? You knew it would break me, just like you knew moving to Oxford would. I know that’s selfish, dammit, but you’ve always done it before. Why did you leave me this time?

But that was the paradox of the situation, wasn’t it? Instead of staying to protect him–as she once had–she was leaving to protect him.
Or am I just telling myself that, when in fact it has nothing to do with me at all? That this time, Ana made a decision about her life that did not include me?

“I guess I don’t understand, Ana. I’ve never turned my back on you, or judged you. I’ve never made you feel bad about anything you’ve done.”
And you could have had anyone in the world and I would have supported you, but Oz?
Their indiscretion brought Ana’s behavior–and Nicolas’ conflicted, bottled feelings–bubbling to the surface, and threatened to burst through.

No, Nicolas would not think about it; not yet. Not until she was out of the woods. He would focus only on her recovery.

Her long red hair looked even more beautiful contrasted with her pale, ashen skin. He used to braid her hair, as long as she promised to never, ever tell anyone. He wished he could see her eyes right now, those piercing blue eyes that cut right to your soul.
Have I never married because no woman can ever measure up? Because, truly, I could never love her more than I already do. I would never want more from her than I have now. But being with someone else means that I can’t share this closeness with her the same way ever again.
Nicolas would not think about how tonight’s bombshell might impact this closeness.
Goddamnit Oz, why did you have to tell me? Why couldn’t you have taken it merrily to your goddamned grave, so Adrienne and I could continue living in blissful ignorance about the people we love?

He looked over at Finn, in contrast. Finn had rough, ruddy blond hair (
so not her type, she likes dark-haired guys
), a strong jawline (
she always liked the softer types
), and dimples that did not require a smile to come out (
too obnoxious
). He had a scar above his lip, and his cheeks had a slight red flush to them (
too roughneck)
. He was handsome, but was simply not her type.

Apparently, he is. Apparently I don’t know her type. Apparently she had her reasons for keeping this from me, just as she kept her fling with Oz a secret. Maybe her shock at seeing me was actually guilt.

Maybe she’s worried that my love is conditional on her never changing. Maybe she’s been changing this entire time and I haven’t shown her it’s okay.

“I am so sorry,” he said to her, still holding her hand in his. He curled up next to her and closed his eyes, smelling on her skin a trace of copper and rubbing alcohol. “I really am.”

Jon was guilty of murder. It mattered not who pulled the trigger. He had aimed for Alex and missed, but he didn’t intend to miss. He would never let Oz take responsibility for something that, in his heart and in his intentions, he was equally guilty of.

They worked quickly, but quietly. He didn’t mind Oz, and thought that in better circumstances, they might even get along. He didn’t think that there would be a better circumstance for them, though. While bound for life with this experience, this was hardly the activity that created friendships.

“Did you realize that your nose is broken?” Jonathan finally asked, as they hauled Alex’s body through the snow and out to the boathouse. It was a slow haul, with the second storm still in full swing around them.

Oz laughed. “Yeah. I’m aware of it.”

“I can set it for you if you want. It might heal properly that way.”

“Thanks.”

There was no good place to put Alex, so in the end they placed him closest to where the tanks had spilled.
 
They shoved him under a low bench, wedging him in. The sounds of the garbage bags crinkling against the snow made Jon cringe.
 

“The roof looks unsteady,” Oz noted warily.

“The whole thing is unsteady,” Jon agreed. “But there isn’t anywhere else to put him. You were right; he can’t stay in the house.”

“How long are we going to be stranded here?” Oz asked, with a glance back up at the house.

Jon hesitated before speaking. “I’m going to try to figure out the snowcat, and drive it down to the ferry station to radio for help.”

“I’ll come with you,” Oz said.

Jon shook his head. “You’re the only one who knows what I did to keep them stable. Her cousin in there isn’t in any shape to take care of them alone.”

Oz nodded, but it was clear he didn’t like the idea of everyone splitting up in the storm.

“One thing we will need to figure out,” Jon said, “is what we are going to tell the police.”

Oz stopped, hand on the back door. He couldn’t be much older than Finn, but in that moment he seemed to be a hundred years old. “The truth, I suppose. I mean, it’s not like a lie could be any weirder.”

Jon laughed; his first laugh in a long while, and the sound was foreign and coarse to his ears. “You are most likely right.”

“What will people here think?” Oz pressed. “About what happened to Alex? Will they miss him? Think it’s all just a misunderstanding?”

Jonathan frowned. “A mixed bag, I suppose. Most people thought him harmless.”

“Not you, though.” It wasn’t a question.

“I suspect he had a hand in his parents’ deaths all those years ago, and the Sheriff thinks so, too.”

“Well, he certainly had murder on the brain tonight,” Oz concluded. He turned to look at Jon. “If Ana wakes up before help arrives, I don’t want her to know about what happened with Alex.”

Jon started at him, not understanding.

“She’s probably going to blame herself already for what happened tonight, but I don’t want her to blame herself for Alex. I did it. That was my choice, and I’d do it again.”

“So we tell her…?”

“That we took care of it. And leave it at that.”

Jon still had so many questions, as he was sure Oz did, but he couldn’t bring himself to ask any of them. The situation was still so tenuous, and they were a long way from small talk and story time.

When they had left the two of them lying in the dining room, Jonathan had found himself looking back over his shoulder, but it was not his brother he looked at. His stomach was in knots, a feeling quite unfamiliar to him, and he had felt it earlier, before she had woken up. He felt it the moment she brought that stray animal to him, and again in the shower. It wasn’t until that moment he turned to look over his shoulder that he connected those feelings together.

No. It doesn’t matter if you have these feelings. She could be your soul mate, and it wouldn’t matter, because your brother has finally found something other than his own stubbornness and the sea that makes him happy. You know you are the reason he has stayed on this island. He will not admit it, but you know it is. You will not take this from him as well.

They stepped back through the door and found Nicolas curled up next to Ana. Jonathan’s heart stopped for a moment until he could see both Finn, and Ana, were breathing, and only then he was able to step into the room.

“I tried to check their pulses, but I don’t know what is normal and what isn’t. They didn’t stop breathing though, so that must be a good sign,” Nicolas said lightly, a half-hearted jest.

“Thanks,” Jon said and dismissed Nicolas with a hand. He knelt by Ana’s side, and then Finn’s, taking both their vitals. He found nothing out of the ordinary. After a deeper search of his father’s office before they ventured outside, he had found some morphine, and it was the only relief he had been able to give them for the pain.

“We need to find a way off of this island, quickly,” Jonathan pressed, as he faced the other two men, who were strangers before tonight but now were bonded to him in a way even he didn’t understand yet. “They both need proper medical attention. I’ve done all I can for them.”

“Is there a hospital on the island?” Oz asked.

“No,” he said. “Just the stuff I have here, from my father’s old...clinic. We need to get to the mainland to get them the right help.”

“Does your phone work?” Nicolas asked. “Or was that just more lies from Alex?” He seemed to have a bit of his spark back.

“It did for a few days, but the lines have been down for nearly a week. Internet is down, too, and the nearest radio is at the ferry station a mile west.”

“What about that big thing outside?” Oz asked, pointing toward the snowcat.

“I’m going to try and get it to the ferry station, and see if their radios are up,” Jon replied.

“No, Jon. I mean, doesn’t that thing
have
a radio?”

Jon’s hopes rose. How could he not have thought of this on his own?
The situation has just been too much. I’m not thinking clearly.
There
should
be a working radio, and perhaps they could reach the Coast Guard. If not, he could still take the snowcat down to the Ferry Terminal and try the radios there. But if this worked, it would be much quicker.

Before Jon could say anything, Oz asked Nicolas to join him to see if it was working.

As the door clapped behind them, Jon realized he was alone for the first time since the world had come crashing down around their heads.

What would he do if Finn died? Finn was more than just his brother. He was his anchor. Jon had long believed he needed no one, but was allowed the luxury of such nonsensical thoughts
because
Finn was at his side. Finn protected him; he brought Jon a little closer to humanity.
 

Jon didn’t understand the nature of Finn and Ana’s relationship. How could they have such a bond? He hadn’t ever seen them together, and Finn had hardly mentioned her until the night she ended up half-dead on their beachfront. How could that kind of love have grown while Ana was sleeping? He remembered Finn spending every waking moment by her side, talking to her, reading to her. Could she have known?
How could you love someone that fast?

He wished he knew, because that feeling was back as he watched her, and he realized with both guilt (for Finn) and resentment (for himself) that he should not have pushed her out that night she came to his office with Cocoa. If he had opened his eyes he might have seen her, really seen her for who she was: someone just like him, his female equivalent. His habitual attitude closed out, the one who would not just accept but
understand
him. Had he been open to it, he might have finally found something to give his life the meaning that he pretended to not crave.

She was
The One
. The problem was…Finn thought she was
The One
, too. And he wouldn’t keep holding his little brother back from happiness.

Augustus was displeased with the hospital staff. They were properly courteous and attentive–they visited Ana regularly and responded quickly when called–but he did not feel that they were nearly experienced enough. She had been in the hospital for five days, and they were still not ready to release her. And now they were annoyed with
him
. He had thought they would be pleased that he was willing to send for doctors from New Orleans to take over.

He resisted the urge to tell them that her sleeping was
normal
, that she was healing herself. He was the only person who knew how to care for her in such a state.