The Lucky One (37 page)

36

Beth

A
s fate would have it, Nana was in the kennel office when Keith stormed into the house and closed the door behind him, acting as if he owned the place. Even from the kitchen, Beth could see the veins on his neck protruding. His hands balled into fists when his eyes locked on hers.

When he marched through the living room, Beth felt something give way inside her; fear filled its place. Never once had she seen him like this, and she backed away, following the angles of the cabinets. Keith surprised her by stopping at the entrance to the kitchen. He smiled, but his expression was off somehow, a grotesque and demented caricature of what it was supposed to be.

“Sorry for barging in like this,” he said with exaggerated courtesy, “but we need to talk.”

“What are you doing here? You can’t just walk in here—”

“Cooking dinner, huh?” he said. “I remember when you used to cook dinner for me.”

“Get out, Keith,” she said, her voice hoarse.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said, looking at her as if she didn’t know what she was talking about. He motioned toward the chair. “Why don’t you sit down?”

“I don’t want to sit down,” she whispered, hating how frightened she sounded. “I want you to leave.”

“That’s not going to happen,” he said. He smiled again, but it was no better than his first attempt. There was a vacancy in his gaze she’d never seen before. She felt her heartbeat speed up.

“Would you get me a beer, please?” he asked. “It’s been a long day at the office, if you know what I mean.”

She swallowed, afraid to look away. “I don’t have any more.”

He nodded, glancing around the kitchen before fixing his gaze on her again. He pointed. “I see one right there, by the stove. There’s got to be another one somewhere. You mind if I check the fridge?” He didn’t wait for an answer. He walked to the fridge and opened it before reaching for the bottom shelf. He came out with a bottle. “Found one,” he crowed. He looked at her as he opened it. “Guess you were mistaken, huh?” He took a long pull and winked.

She forced herself to stay calm. “What do you want, Keith?”

“Oh, you know. Just wanted to catch up. See if there’s anything I should know.”

“Know about what?” she asked, her stomach clenching.

“About Thigh-bolt,” he said.

She ignored the mangling of the name. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He took another drink, swishing the beer in his mouth as he nodded. He swallowed, the sound loud. “Driving over here, that’s what I thought you might say,” he said, sounding almost conversational. “But I know you better than you think I do.” He gestured at her with his beer bottle. “There was a time there when I wasn’t sure I knew you at all, but that’s changed in the past few years. Raising a son together really bonds a couple, don’t you think?”

She didn’t respond.

“That’s why I’m here, you know. Because of Ben. Because I want the best for him, and right now, I’m not sure you’re thinking all that clearly about things.”

He stepped toward her and took another long pull of his beer. The bottle was already nearly empty. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before going on. “See, I’ve been thinking that you and I haven’t always had the best relationship. That’s not good for Ben. He needs to know that we still get along. That we’re still close friends. Don’t you think that’s an important lesson to teach him? That even if your parents get divorced, they can still be friends?”

She didn’t like the sound of his rambling monologue, but she was afraid to cut him off. This was a different Keith Clayton . . . a dangerous one.

“I think it’s important,” he continued. He took another step toward her. “In fact, I can’t think of anything more important.”

“Just stay back,” she said.

“I don’t think so,” he scolded her. “You haven’t been thinking all that clearly in the last couple of days.”

As he neared, she slid farther down the bank of counters, trying to keep him in front of her.

“Don’t come any closer. I’m warning you.”

He kept closing the distance, staring at her with those vacant eyes. “See what I mean? You’re acting like you think I’m going to hurt you. I’d never, ever hurt you. You should know that about me.”

“You’re crazy.”

“No, I’m not. A little angry, maybe, but not crazy.” When he smiled again, the vacancy in his eyes vanished and her stomach did a flip-flop. He went on. “Do you know that even after all you’ve put me through, I still think you’re beautiful?”

She didn’t like where this was going. Not at all. By then, she’d reached the corner, with noplace left to go. “Just leave, okay? Ben’s upstairs and Nana will be back in a minute—”

“All I want is a kiss. Is that such a big deal?”

She wasn’t sure she’d heard him right. “A kiss?” she parroted.

“For now,” he said. “That’s all. Just for old times’ sake. Then I’ll go. I’ll walk right out of here. I promise.”

“I’m not going to kiss you,” she said, stunned.

By then, he was standing before her. “You will,” he said. “And you’ll do more, later. But for now, a kiss is fine.”

She arched her back, trying to keep away. “Please, Keith. I don’t want this. I don’t want to kiss you.”

“You’ll get over it,” he said. When he leaned in, she turned away. He took hold of her upper arms. As he moved his lips toward her ear, Beth could feel her heart begin to hammer.

“You’re hurting me!” she gasped.

“Here’s the thing, Beth,” he whispered. She could feel the warmth of his breath on her neck. “If you don’t want to kiss me, that’s fine. I’ll accept that. But I’ve decided that I want to be a little more than friends.”

“Get out!” she hissed, and with a laugh, Keith let her go.

“Sure,” he said. He took a step back. “No problem. I’ll leave. But I should let you know what’s going to happen if we don’t work something out.”

“Just leave!” she shouted.

“I think we should go on a . . . date every now and then. And I’m not going to take no for an answer.”

The way he said “date” made her skin crawl. Beth couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“After all, I warned you about Thigh-bolt,” he added, “but where were you today? At his place.” He shook his head. “That was a big mistake. You see, it’s pretty easy for me to make a case that he stalked you and that he’s obsessive. Both of those things make him dangerous, but you’re obviously ignoring it. And that makes it dangerous for Ben to be forced to live with you.”

His expression was neutral. Beth was paralyzed by his words.

“I’d hate to have to go to the courts and tell them what you’re doing, but I will. And I’m sure they’ll grant me full custody this time.”

“You wouldn’t,” she whispered.

“I will.
Unless.
” His obvious enjoyment as he spoke made it that much more horrifying. He paused, letting it sink in, before speaking like a professor again. “Let me make sure you understand. First, you tell Thigh-bolt that you never want to see him again. Then you tell him to leave town. And after that, we’ll go out. For old times’ sake. It’s either that, or Ben’s going to live with me.”

“I’m not going to live with you!” a small voice shouted from the kitchen doorway.

Beth looked past Keith to see Ben, his expression horrified. Ben started to back away. “I’m not going to do it!”

Ben turned and ran, slamming the front door behind him as he raced into the storm.

37

Clayton

B
eth tried to force her way past Clayton, but he reached for her arm again.

“We’re not done yet,” he growled. He wasn’t going to let her leave without making sure she understood.

“He ran outside!”

“He’ll be fine. I want to make sure you’re clear on how things are going to go with us.”

Beth didn’t hesitate, slapping him across the face with her free hand, and he recoiled. When he let go, she pushed him backward with all her might, sensing that he was still off balance.

“Get the hell out!” she screamed. As soon as he steadied his feet, she slammed him in the chest again. “I am so sick of you and your family telling me what I can and can’t do, and I’m not going to put up with it anymore!”

“Too bad,” he shot back, the words coming naturally. “You don’t have a choice. I’m not going to let Ben anywhere near that
boyfriend
of yours.”

Instead of answering, as if tired of listening to him, she pushed away and strode past him.

“Where are you going?” he demanded. “We’re not finished.”

She pounded through the living room. “I’m going to find Ben.”

“It’s just rain!”

“It’s flooding, in case you haven’t noticed.”

He watched her run out onto the porch, expecting her to find Ben there, but for some reason, she looked both ways and vanished from view. Lightning flashed, thunder echoing a moment later. Close. Too close. Clayton moved to the door and noticed that she’d headed to the far edge and was scanning the yard. Just then, he saw Nana approaching with an umbrella.

“Have you seen Ben?” Beth suddenly called out.

“No,” Nana answered, looking confused, rain pouring around her. “I just got here. What’s going on?” She stopped short at the sight of Clayton. “What’s he doing here?” she demanded.

“He didn’t go past you?” Beth asked, suddenly jogging toward the steps.

“It’s no big deal,” Clayton said, knowing he had to finish things with Beth. “He’ll be back. . . .”

Beth stopped suddenly and faced him. All at once, Clayton noticed her anger had been replaced by something close to terror. The noise of the storm seemed to be suddenly very far away.

“What is it?” he asked.

“The tree house . . .”

It took only a moment to process the words, and then Clayton felt his chest constrict.

A moment later, they were both charging for the woods.

38

Thibault, Beth, and Clayton

T
hibault finally arrived at the kennel driveway, his boots waterlogged and heavy. Zeus kept pace alongside him, slowed only by the knee-deep water. Up ahead, he could see the car and the truck, as well as another SUV. As he approached, he made out the lights on top and knew that Clayton was at the house.

Despite his exhaustion, he surged forward, splashing hard. Zeus was bounding through the water like a dolphin skimming over the waves. The harder Thibault ran, the farther the distance seemed, but finally he passed the kennel office and angled toward the house. Only then did he notice Nana standing on the porch, aiming a flashlight toward the forest.

Even from a distance, she looked panicked.

“Nana!” he called out, but the storm kept the sound of his voice from reaching her. A few moments later she must have heard him, for she turned in his direction, catching him in the glare of her flashlight.

“Thibault?”

Thibault forced his way through the last few steps. The rain whipped around him and the waning light made it difficult to see. He slowed to a walk, trying to catch his breath.

“What happened?” he shouted.

“Ben’s gone!” she shouted back.

“What do you mean, gone? What happened?”

“I don’t know!” Nana cried. “Clayton was here and Beth came out looking for Ben . . . and then the two of them took off toward the creek. I heard something about the tree house.”

A moment later, Thibault was sprinting toward the woods, Zeus at his side.

The rain and wind lashed the branches on either side of them, cutting their faces and hands. The path had been blocked by dozens of fallen limbs, forcing Beth and Keith to push through bushes and vines to get around them. Twice, Beth stumbled and fell; behind her, she heard Keith fall as well. The mud was thick and viscous; halfway to the tree house, Beth’s shoe came off, but she didn’t stop.

The tree house. The bridge. The flood. Only adrenaline and fear kept her from throwing up. In her mind’s eye, she could see her son on the bridge as it suddenly gave way.

In the shadows, she stumbled again over a half-decayed tree trunk and felt a searing pain in her foot. She rose as quickly as she could, trying to ignore it, but as soon as she put weight on it, she crumpled to the ground again.

By then, Keith had reached her side and he pulled her up without a word. Keeping an arm around her waist, he dragged her forward.

They both knew Ben was in danger.

Clayton had to force himself not to succumb to panic. He told himself that Ben was intelligent, that Ben would know danger when he saw it, that he wouldn’t press his luck. Ben wasn’t the bravest kid. For the first and only time in his life, he was grateful for that.

Even as they struggled through the underbrush, Beth hobbling beside him, Clayton couldn’t ignore what he was seeing. Far beyond its banks, almost at their feet, he saw the creek, running wider, stronger, and faster than he’d ever seen it.

Thibault had been running hard, charging through mud and water, forcing himself not to slow but finding it more difficult with every step to keep up his desperate pace. Branches and vines snapped at his face and arms, scissoring him with cuts he didn’t feel as he blasted through them.

As he ran, he ripped off his raincoat and then his shirt.

Almost there, he kept telling himself. Only a little bit farther.

And in the distant reaches of his mind, he heard the echo of Victor’s voice:

There is more.

Beth could feel the bones in her foot grinding against one another with every step, sending flashes of fire throughout her lower body, but she refused to scream or cry out.

As they drew near the tree house, the creek widened even more, the current curling and whipping into circles. Brackish water broke into tiny waves around heaps of fallen branches along the fast-disappearing banks. The turbulent water was filled with debris, enough to knock anyone unconscious.

Rain came down from the sky in sheets. The wind toppled another branch, and it crashed to the ground only yards away. The mud seemed to suck the energy from both of them.

But she knew they’d reached the oak tree: Through the downpour, she could make out the rope bridge, like the ragged mast of a ship finally sighted through a misty harbor. Her eyes swung from the ladder to the rope bridge, toward the central landing. . . . The waters of the creek were racing over it, debris collecting against it. Her gaze traveled from the rope bridge to the tree house platform, taking in the awkward angle of the dangling bridge. It hovered only a foot above the water because the platform had nearly been ripped off the tree house’s ancient structural support, clearly about to give way.