The Ocean’s City
Chapter 42

“Ian,” I tried to soothe him down. “Calm down, please!”

“Don’t tell me to calm down!” It was like the storm raged to the beat of his heart.

“It was nothing. I got a thorn in my foot and—”

I couldn’t finish my sentence because he had me cornered against the wall, heaving with anger. I shook in fear of what he might do to me. Deep down, Dalton would have never hurt me despite how angry he may have gotten, but who was to say what Ian would be capable of? I hoped his love for his brother was enough to keep me out of harm’s way.

He spoke in a whisper. “Leave it for Dalton. He can decide what it means, hiding behind the house with a man kneeling at your bare feet.”

The muscles in his jaw twitched as I watched him battle with his inner demons. His fist rose and hit the wall next to my head. It was much lighter than I had anticipated. Still, it caused me to flinch.

The front door opened with a bang as Fran rushed inside. “There’s a tornado outside!” She squealed frantically. “I hope it doesn’t tear the house down.”

Ian didn’t bother to move away from me. “Calm. Down. Please.” I attempted to speak with an even voice, though it slightly shook at the end.

There was a flash of pain that danced in his eyes as he searched mine. His fist tapped the wall once more before he turned and marched into the bedroom I had been staying in.

Fran rushed to me, flinging her arms around me. “Are you alright?” She asked, practically shouting from the wind blowing so hard.

She hugged me as I shook with worry and anticipation until the storm passed.

…

A single light flickered as the storm raged outside. Fran sat on a rocking chair near to the candle, humming as she knitted away.

I sat on the bed with my legs pulled close to me, sipping on the cup of tea Fran had made me. I had originally tried to give the tea to Ian, but Fran stopped me before I could even make a step towards the door. It was like she was aware that he caused the storm.

Subconsciously, I rocked back and forth as I worried about what Ian would tell Dalton. What if he took his word over mine? What would happen then? I also couldn’t help but wonder where Jones had gone.

“Fran?”

“Yes, sister?” She asked in between humming, not bothering to lift her head from knitting.

“Is Jones okay?”

Fran froze, staring at her knitting needles for a long pause. Finally, she looked up, giving me an eerie feeling. “Does it matter what happens to him?”

I said nothing, but nibbled the bottom of my lip. Fran took that as a response and went back to humming and knitting away.

I finally drifted into a restless sleep sometime in the night. The same nightmare played on rerun over and over. I’m running from the men, trying to chase me. A man on a horse finally catches up to me, hitting me in the back of the head. I luckily don’t feel any pain like I had in the real memory.

I fall to the floor. My hands go to protect my face as the butt of the rifle comes down. I plea for Dalton to save me.

The image of the gun coming down to hit me has me lurching from my sleep, gasping for air.

I quickly remembered I was in the main room. The candle’s light has grown to a low flicker. Fran passed out on the rocking chair, hands in a mid-stitch.

I take a slow breath and run my hands through my hair. I fight my mind, trying to get myself to stop reliving that moment. My mind wins, and the guilt and frustration flood through me. It’s like if the memory bothers me enough, I can alter my mistakes.

Then a silly idea pops into my mind, as my memory replays in my mind, reminding me that soon after I pleaded for Dalton to save me, Ian saved the day.

I felt odd doing it, but I settled my head on the pillow and whispered. “Dalton?”

The sounds of the night silently danced in the midnight air.

“Dalton… I don’t know if you can hear me, but… I upset Ian. I did nothing wrong, he just… I don’t know… if he misinterpreted the situation. I’m really worried you are going to finally show up after abandoning me here all this time and take his word over mine.” I let my words sneak off into the dark room, hoping by some kind of magic it would make it to him.

Then, after quite some time, I added. “I hope you found Dannie. I hope it was worth my loneliness.”