Galilee Rising (15 page)

The next batch of photos are older and more worn. The first is a wedding photo of two unsmiling young people I recognize as Jem's parents. Can't even muster a smile on the supposed happiest day of their lives. I know he told me he was adopted, but Christian Ambrose has the same hair and killer cheekbones as Jem. Maybe he was the product of an affair and was just told he was adopted. Wealthy people are assholes like that. The next photo is of an older woman with her white hair in a bun reading to two small children by a pond. One of the boys has his back to the camera but the other has to be Jem. Same dimple. He smiles even bigger while hula-hooping in his dark bedroom beside a desk stacked high with books. The next is at Christmas. Jem, wearing a crown and with a silver sword by his side, stares intensely at the camera with almost hatred. His Camelot phase. Wait, didn't Jem say his--

The sound of an opening door startles me. I toss everything back in the box and shove it up on the shelf as Jem steps out. He's dressed in brown boat shoes, pressed khaki pants, and royal blue fleece shirt. Gone is the toothpaste, only to be replaced by shaving cream on his earlobe. "I was just, uh, looking at your books. You have a lot."

"You can borrow one if you want."

I step away from the bookcase. "I'm not much of a reader. But, uh, I like your workout room. How long have you been boxing?"

"I've dabbled through the years," he says, sipping his coffee.

"Nothing like beating the crap out of something to relieve stress, huh? I go shooting."

He quickly touches his chest. "I'm not a big fan of guns." He takes another swig of coffee. "I'm ready if you are. Am I dressed appropriately?"

"Might want to change one thing. Hold on." I grab a tissue, and his eyes follow me as I approach. His head moves away as I reach for him. "Stop it. I'm not going to bite." I wipe the white foam from his ear as he stares at me. Damn, even his eyes are tense. "There. Now you're perfect." I smile and meet those strained eyes. He's studying me again, and my smile drops. The fluttering in my stomach makes me step away. I've found that when I get the urge to pounce the best thing to do is flee. "Come on. Daylight's wasting."

Hope I don't have to jump into the ocean today.

*

My forty-foot cruising sailboat
The Athena
has become my refuge since Justin's death. It's the only place I can go where no one will find me, and that I can be well and truly alone. The middle of the sea is awesome like that. I learned to sail with Justin in our late teens, and at least once a month we took her out. Well, until he met Rebecca. There's something about riding along the open water with no one around for miles that is so freeing. You're relying on yourself and Mother Nature to reach your destination. I can get behind that simplicity.

As I'm sure he does all things, Jem picks up the machinations of the boat quickly. He only fouled the preventer shroud once. It took me months to get that right. Of course I never tripped on the ropes twice like the good doctor. He caught himself before he fell overboard but damn near gave me a heart attack anyway. I even taught him to steer and navigate. For the most part we don't talk, which is nice. It's hard to find people I'm comfortable just
being
with, where we don't have to fill every moment with chatter. Where it's just easy. There isn't enough easy in this life.

I stay on the bridge steering while he sits at the bow taking all the beauty of the ocean and sky in. Occasionally he feels me staring, pivots around, and presents me a tranquil smile before turning back. Think I just found my first mate.

When we're halfway back to port, I decide to drop anchor and serve dinner. It's my favorite time of the day, twilight, where the moon and sun share the sky, blending their darkness and light, creating deep oranges, purples, and blues. I join Jem on the bow where he arranges our feast on the blanket. We had sandwiches for lunch but dinner is a little more formal with Caesar salad, chilled salmon, sparkling cider, and cheesecake for desert. He mentioned it's his favorite. Dobbs even put a candle and holder for the centerpiece, not that I light it. This is already the most romantic non-date I've ever had, no need to add to the atmosphere. I pour the cider then hand Jem the plastic flute. "To serenity, beauty, and good company," I toast. He taps my cup with a nod and we drink. I devour my salad as he yawns for the fifth time in half the minutes. "Getting tired? I can make more coffee."

"No, I'm fine," he says still yawning. "Sorry. I didn't get home until three last night." He turns away toward the horizon. "One of my patients on the drug protocol was admitted last night. He's fine, though."

"That's good," I say with my own yawn. "Look, you've got me doing it now too."

He looks back at me with a grin. "What about you? Tired?"

"Yeah. I had a work emergency come up too that took some time. I had to go into the office and…" I meet his eyes, and the rest of the lie vanishes from my head. The sincerity in those pools of dark blue sort of infects me. "No, I'm not doing this."

"What?"

"I was going to lie to you," I say with an awkward smile. "I don't want to do that. I don't want any major secrets between us, they just poison the relationship. Justin never told me about Justice, and it almost destroyed us. That's not gonna happen here. So…for the past month and a half, I've been working with the Royal Triumvirate. I just do research, I'm not in the line of fire or anything."

"Oh," he says, glimpsing away again.

"Like I said, it's a part of my life, and I felt that you should know."

"Well, thank you for trusting me with your secret," he says sadly.

"You're welcome." I pause to find the right words. "And you can trust me with yours, whatever they may be."

He simply stares in the direction of the setting sun. "I know."

We sit in silence for a few seconds as the boat gently rocks. "I have another confession to make," I finally say.

"Another one?" he asks with a raised eyebrow.

"Last one, I promise," I say with a half smile. "When you were in the shower I snooped around. I couldn't help myself, I'm sorry."

"I know. Well, I assumed. Discover anything of interest?"

"Few dead bodies, your porn collection, women's underwear in your size, the usual," I say, which garners another dimpled smile. "No, just books and photos."

"The ones in the shoe-box?"

"Yeah." I pause. "You were a cute kid. I really liked the one of you and your brother with the nanny by the pond. You seemed so happy."

"That was Nanny Lynn. She was our favorite governess, mostly because she'd sneak us candy and let us watch television with her. I still record that soap opera. Uma used to laugh when Rebecca and I discussed the characters and ridiculous storylines."

"You weren't allowed candy or TV?"

"Only educational shows. Father was convinced the brain could only hold so much information, therefore he didn't want us filling our heads with trivialities. And sugar made us hyperactive and unable to concentrate. Lynn was with us three years before Jordan let our extra-curriculars be known. She was fired on the spot."

"Holy shit, I'm sorry." I scoff. "And I thought my childhood was fucked up."

"It wasn't all bad."

"At least you had your brother, right?"

He turns away again. "Yeah."

"You don't talk about him very much," I observe. "Did you have a falling out or something?"

"Or something." He pauses. "He didn't approve of my marrying Uma."

"Why? Because she was Indian?"

"No, because he was jealous. All we had was one another, then he turned his back and I had someone else. After her death, the few times we've seen each other, we're…combative at best." He glances back at me. "If you don't mind, I don't wish to talk about this anymore."

"Of course. Sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry about. It's perfectly natural to be curious. He's just not worthy of our time."

I have a trillion other questions but refrain. "Okay."

We sit across from one another and pick at our food in uncomfortable silence. After about fifteen seconds, he tosses his fork down with a sigh. "You have to understand, the conditions of our childhood were intolerable. We were isolated, constantly made to believe we had to be perfect, pushed to our limits, it was tantamount to torture and lasted the whole of our childhood. Our only refuges were our imaginations and one another. Us against the world, but it wasn't the real world. When we finally ventured out, left our microcosms, he floundered and attempted to take me under with him. I didn't much enjoy college, but I loved what I was studying and knew all would be worthwhile in the end. That was my first betrayal, not dropping out with him. Afterwords, I didn't see him for years. There was the odd phone call or postcard, but nothing substantial until our parents funeral. We reconnected but he was traveling the world, doing God knows what, and I was in college. We spent summers and holidays together, phoned at least once a week, but I sensed he desired more. It was working until I met Uma. Then the snide comments became outright rudeness and open hostility. He vanished again after a huge fight. A few months later, he reappeared after hearing of our engagement, acting as if nothing had happened, all smiles and apologies. He was brilliant after she died and seemed genuinely sorry for my loss. I soon learned it was all an act."

I pause before asking, "He killed her, didn't he?"

"Yes. Not that I can prove it. Nor can I prove he set the fire that killed our parent's. My brother is far too clever for that. I had investigators try to track him down even to this day, but if he doesn't wish to be found, he won't be." For the first time he gazes at me, mouth set straight. "Now you know."

"I'd tell you the guilt you feel is wrong, that she didn't die because of you, but then I'd be a huge fucking hypocrite. Not to mention a liar. If you hadn't come into her life, she might still be alive. That is just a hard fact. But it still wasn't your fault. I don't blame Justin for what James Ryder did to me anymore than Uma would blame you. And given the choice even now, of never meeting him or having to go through all I did, I'd chose him every fucking time without hesitation. Some people are just worth it." He stares at me and I half smile before looking away. His gaze doesn't leave my face, but I can't bear to see him for fear of breaking my shaky resolve. The silence is unbearable too. "The sun's gone. I guess we should be heading back soon."

"I suppose," he says.

I sigh. "God, I love this boat. Justin and I used to make sure we took her out once a month. Just the two of us. No distractions, no worries."

"I can see why you like it."

"Yeah. The tradition kind of ebbed away when Rebecca came onto the scene, though. You know the moment I knew he was officially gone was the second time he cancelled on me in as many months. The knife twisted when he let it slip he took her out here to propose. Probably in this very spot. I mean, it was bad enough he proposed, but to do it on our boat just cut to my heart. Betrayal on top of betrayal." I scoff. "How little did I know, huh?"

Jem's silent for a second, then, "I'm sure he had his reasons to keep that from you. It wasn't done to hurt you."

"I know the reasons. I do. Hell, I even sort of forgave him. Well, as much as you can forgive twenty years of lies. It still…" I bite my lip to stop the oncoming rant. "Sorry. Just being here, the anniversary in a few days, working with superheroes, and being with you just dredges it all up."

"Why being with me?" he asks, finally looking my way.

I half smile. "I don't know. You remind me of him. You're both dependable, kind, strong, smart, easy to be around. Practically perfect in every way."

"I'm not perfect, Joanna. And neither was he," he says with an undercurrent of anger.

"I know that. Now. Until Ryder, hell, I thought he was God. He could do no wrong. Everyone said I had a blind-spot when it came to him, and it wasn't until that blind-spot almost got me killed that I finally woke the fuck up," I say, almost chuckling. "I mean, he was vain. So vain. He'd spend an hour in front of the mirror getting his hair just so. Everything had to be perfect. If I left my jacket on the couch or God forbid forgot to use a coaster, I got a lecture. He was such a know-it-all too. Always telling me how to dress, to talk, hell even to eat. He meant well but it could be so grating. He was such a control freak. And he could be so fucking inconsiderate! I mean, I get all the cancelled appointments now, but sometimes he'd expect me to just drop what I was doing to meet him at some party or work event so he wouldn't have to be alone after some model cancelled on him. And the fucked up thing is, I always went! I skipped drinks with other cops or dinner with my own family to be his wingman. Then the few times I couldn't, because I was working, he'd be cold the next time I saw him. And there was very little give and take. We always did what he wanted, and I just learned to like it.

"Then, to top it all off, when he met Rebecca, he dropped me. The only times I got to see him, she was there. And then, once again, he expected me to stop my life to go to Daisy's ballet recital or Rebecca's tea and scones party. And once again I went because I thought maybe one day he'd open his eyes and see that I was the one who was always there for him. That I was the only one worthy of his love. I was such a fucking idiot. But…even in spite of all that he was my best friend. And I loved him with my all. But he's gone. I just need to finally and completely lay him to rest. To move on." I look into Jem's solemn eyes. "Is that even possible?"

Those sapphire eyes bore into mine as he says, "
God, I
hope so
."

Despite the increasing cold it's as if my entire body is alight with heat. Only twice before have I felt like this, once with Harry and the other with Justin, but those were flickers compared to this volcano. Every one of my cells is begging me to move toward him, to press my lips to his and just give into whatever this sensation is, but I fight them. It isn't time yet. I just don't know how much longer I can hold out.