Dark Redemption Read online

  I head to the sub-zero refrigerator, open it up and see that it has been freshly stocked with fruits, vegetables, and some pre-made meals in the freezer.

  I grab a vegetarian lasagna, nuke it in the microwave, and eat it straight out of the container.

  That’s another thing that Mom wouldn’t approve of. For her it's all about presentation. You have to eat from the right plates using the right utensils, no matter what.

  The food is fresh and delicious, and I scarf it down, and then make myself another. Grabbing a beer out of the fridge, I walk out onto the porch and inhale the scent of salt water coming off the ocean.

  That's one of my favorite things about this house: it’s proximity to the ocean. Out in the distance, I see a girl of about eleven walking up the path through the dunes to her house. She’s so far away that I can barely make out her face.

  I stretch my hands out and take the world in. The sun is still high in the sky. The day is sticky hot with the kind of humidity that opens up your pores and makes you want to strip off your clothes.

  Marguerite and Lincoln won’t be here until tomorrow. I have the place to myself.

  I head inside, take my suitcase to the guest room upstairs, and grab my favorite swim trunks. It’s blue with little anchors and a draw string in the front. It’s the only one I travel with, so that I can take advantage of swimming in hotel pools.

  I have always loved to swim. There's something relaxing about being in the water, natural or otherwise. In the Hamptons, I have the option of both, and I head straight into the ocean.

  I don't bother with a towel and leave my phone and keys inside. It feels unusually freeing to be this unattached, unreachable.

  A seagull flies overhead, making a loud crowing sound. Somewhere in the distance I see a fin, possibly a dolphin.

  I remember that small sharks have also been spotted in the area. I'm not afraid. I know they won't bother me. They don't see people as prey, despite what Jaws and many other movies would have you believe. The biggest danger with swimming in the ocean will always be drowning.

  The waves are small today with just a little bit of white spray at the tops. The water is warm after being heated up by the sun all morning. The top layer is about the same temperature as lukewarm bathwater, but the lower layer by the sand feels like a cold spring.

  I take a few steps in, and then dive.

  I come up for air, and then dive in again and again. I open my eyes, and they burn as I peer through the blurry depths to look at the sparkle of tiny fish.

  I swim a long way out.

  There are no lifeguards here, but I’ve always been a strong swimmer. This isn't really a public beach. I swim all the way where I thought I saw the shark fin, come up for air, and look around.

  Doing freestyle back to shore, I put one arm over the other and kick as hard as I can. Swimming out here is nothing like swimming in a pool.

  It's not a controlled environment. There are waves that move you from side to side. I regret going out all this way without goggles.

  When I get back to the shore, I lie down in the sand and let the water caress my feet.

  I close my eyes and my mind begins to wander. I want to enjoy the moment, but I have been one that is very good at meditation.

  All of the normal worries creep in. Next week one of the companies that we have invested in with my initiative is going to be sold. If that happens, and the sale actually goes through, all the paperwork is signed and approved, then I stand to make about half a million dollars.

  That would be enough money to pay off the loan to the trust fund, and that would be enough money to pay off my other debts as well. As I consider that a possibility, I find myself waiting.

  We've all done what we could, and now we just have to wait until the decision is made.

  For me, the stakes are much higher than they are for everyone else. This isn't just half a million dollars. The money would actually get me out of this jam.

  When the sun starts to feel way too hot, I sit up and head back into the water to cool off.

  I do a few more laps, going nowhere in particular, and my muscles get weary and tired.

  I see someone in the distance headed toward me.

  I squint, but the sun is too blinding, and I don't have my sunglasses.

  I wave in the general direction, and when the person doesn’t respond, I turn toward the path leading to the house.

  "Dante, wait!” she yells.

  13

  Jacqueline

  I arrive in the Hamptons against my will.

  Allison is making a strong argument for it, but I’m not excited.

  I'm still not set on going to this party at The Redemption. Though a quick beach holiday sounds like something that I really need in my life right now. I haven't been to the ocean in a while. And Allison did rent us a very nice one bedroom Airbnb cottage. It's a guest house on an estate two blocks away from the beach.

  And it's already ridiculously expensive and barely affordable, but I decide to go for it. Even if I do say no to the party, it'll be nice to at least hang out and have a change of scenery, maybe have a little bonfire on the beach, go swimming, and just get some sun.

  We take the train over and then get an Uber to take us the rest of the way. There's a lot of traffic everywhere, which is pretty expected for a Friday in the Hamptons in the summertime. This seems to be the place where all of New York goes to escape the heat from the asphalt and to let loose.

  There are different pockets in different neighborhoods, all separated by interests, vices, and affordability.

  There are the huge mansions right on the water that host their white parties with Lamborghinis and Maseratis outside. And then there are the flop houses that college kids pile into, twenty or thirty at a time, and party for six weeks straight.

  When we finally pull up to the gate, Allison enters the code and the iron rod gates open before us.

  "Are you sure we can just come in here?" I say, staring at the big spacious Tudor-style home.

  "Yeah, that's what the directions say. Apparently, the owners aren't home today."

  We park up front and carry our bags and supplies to the guest house right next to the pool. It's a small space and Allison and I agree to share the room so that neither of us has to sleep on the couch.

  I'm drenched in sweat and completely exhausted by the time I plop down on the bed. Luckily the air conditioning has been on, so the place is cool. I put our food away into the small mini-fridge, eyeing the hot plate, while Allison sits down on the couch and starts to figure out the places to go for dinner and the location of tomorrow’s party.

  "I'm going to go to the beach," I announce.

  “Now?" she asks, without lifting her eyes.

  I nod. "Yeah, but I need to get in the water. It's going to feel nice after all that travel and traffic."

  "Well, I'm going to stay here and cool off, it's way too hot."

  “Hence, the ocean," I point out, but don't push it.

  Actually, I kind of want some alone time. This whole week she hasn't been working late and we've had a little bit too much roommate time.

  Despite how much I like Allison, I do need some space to think, to just be by myself, and she is always very chatty. Whenever a thought pops into her head, she has to share it. It gets a little tiresome after a while.

  I walk down a couple streets, tree lined, absolutely beautiful. It's summer days like this that I live for. Even if you do have something to worry about, you can forget all of that in this kind of summer afternoon.

  I walk for a while and then realize that it’s the wrong way. I look at the map on my phone and find the nearest walkway toward the beach. There are only a few places from where you can access the shore from here and I follow a little path in the swaying grasses, finally stepping onto the bright white beach, surprisingly unpopulated and uncrowded given the time of year.

  Water sloshes against my feet, warm and welcoming. It's deep blue in color with just a little b
it of white caps coming in. A breeze comes off the ocean, but it's pleasant and it relaxes me like few things can.

  There are kids playing out into the distance and a few adults sunbathing nearby next to a tent.

  I wade into the water. I'm wearing a bathing suit underneath a long summer dress, which I pull up to my waist to prevent it from getting wet.

  My skin is alabaster white and I hadn't put on any sunscreen yet. I wonder how red I'm going to get this weekend, if I keep this up.

  I don't have a towel with me, but it hardly matters.

  Somewhere in the distance, the sun begins to set and light dances off the waves. I turn my eyes away from the horizon and see someone who has a similar build to someone I had lost.

  He sits in the sand, looking out at the water.

  I'm still a bit away, but it’s uncanny how similar he looks to Dante.

  I take a few more steps forward and I lift up my sunglasses to get a closer look.

  And then I realize it's him.

  He gets up and starts to head toward the dunes.

  I can run now, I can just turn around and walk away and it's like it never happened. It's like we never met.

  But something stops me.

  “Dante!” The words escape my lips. I want to take them back.

  I hesitate. I want to talk to him again.

  I want to figure out what happened, find out the truth. And then the memory of running into that pregnant woman and the way he helped her up stops me in my tracks.

  I turn to walk away.

  "Jacqueline?" Dante says, turning around. I take a step back. "Jacqueline?"

  Dressed only in his swim suit, his body glistens in the setting sun. Every muscle stands out beautiful and toned. He has somehow gotten more attractive since the last time I've seen him.

  I take another step back, but he takes three forward and suddenly he's right in front of me.

  "Don't leave," he says, tossing his hair. It's wet, and a few droplets fall onto my face.

  "What are you doing here?" he asks.

  I shake my head no.

  I swallow hard, bringing my arm to my forehead. I shift my weight nervously from one side to another.

  "It's so good to see you." I nod. "How are you?"

  “I'm good."

  The tension between us can be cut with a knife.

  I wait for him to break it, to tell me something along the lines it’s nice to see you, but I'm married now, but he doesn't.

  "That day in the park?" I say, "I'm really sorry about that.”

  I can't handle waiting anymore. I need to get to the bottom of this. I need to know who she is.

  “Don’t worry about it. It was an accident," Dante says. "Marguerite is okay."

  "Marguerite?" I say her name, feeling it around in my mouth. It’s uncomfortable, foreign, strange, the kind of name that belongs to a villain.

  "I'm sorry that we didn't get a chance to talk…then.”

  I notice that he's being careful with his words. He doesn't bring up the fact that I just ran away.

  "But I wanted to reach out and talk to you again,” Dante adds.

  "Okay.” I nod.

  A seagull squawks overhead.

  "I'm staying right over there.” He points at the pristine white mansion on the other side of the swaying grasses. "Do you want to come in for a drink, or just get out of the sun so we can talk?"

  I shake my head yes, immediately regretting it.

  "What about Marguerite? Is she there?" I ask, grasping onto one arm with my other hand.

  "What are you talking about?"

  "I don't really want to intrude on your family life,” I say, trying to be as indirectly direct as possible.

  He furrows his brow.

  "Oh, no, no. Marguerite and I aren't together. Is that what you thought?"

  I take a step back. He takes one forward and grabs my elbow.

  "Wait, did you think that Marguerite is having my baby?" I shrug, not knowing how else to react.

  "No, no, not at all. She's actually…she’s my sister-in-law. She's married to my brother, Lincoln. They've been together for almost a decade. I was taking her to her doctor's appointment because he was busy at work. We went for a stroll in the park since she was feeling up to it.”

  I hesitate.

  I stand before him, uncertain as to whether I heard everything that's coming out of his mouth, or maybe I just made it all up.

  I ask him to repeat himself and he does.

  “Is that why you ran away? You thought that she was my wife and that we were having a child?" Dante asks.

  I nod.

  "No, it couldn't be further from the truth."

  I swallow hard.

  "Okay, let's go in. I think I need that drink,” I say, smiling ear to ear.

  Following Dante into his home, I’m taken aback by the sheer height of the ceilings and the ornate design. The downstairs is a series of rooms flowing one into another. We walk past the library, and I hesitate and look out of the huge bay window, overlooking the ocean.

  "It's beautiful here," I say.

  He nods.

  "Is this your house?"

  "No, it's a family place, but Lincoln and Marguerite officially own it. They're coming tomorrow."

  “So…you’re staying for the weekend?" I ask.

  He nods, giving me a smile out of the corner of his lips. I can't help but feel consumed by the butterflies in the pit of my stomach. They first showed up when our eyes met, and have only escalated in intensity.

  Dante offers me something to drink and pulls out a pitcher of lemonade. Following him out to the back patio, we sit down in Adirondack chairs and look at the expansive pool.

  "I don't know what to say," I admit after a long pause and a rather uncomfortable one at that.

  "I don't either.” He smiles.

  I want to accuse him of not reaching out to me and to yell at him for not coming back from Chicago, but for some reason I don’t.

  I'm just so relieved that he's not married and that baby isn't his that I can't even think.

  "Tell me about your life," I finally say.

  Our eyes meet, and he doesn't look away.

  14

  Jacqueline

  I ask him about his life and what he's been up to, but he shakes his head no.

  "Tell me about your mom," Dante says.

  "She's doing well, almost totally recovered.” I smile. “They don't consider the cancer to be completely gone until it's been five years, but she's gotten another test, and she's going to have to get them every three months in the near future to make sure that it's not coming back, but so far so good.”

  "I'm glad to hear that.” He sits back in his chair, looking out onto the pool.

  "What you did for me…I was so upset and stuck in my grief, but I should have thanked you for saving her life."

  "Well, let's be honest. When she ended up under sedation and unconscious, you weren't very happy with me and that surgery. I get it."

  I swallow hard and take another sip of my lemonade.

  "What about you? What's new with you?" Dante asks.

  "I went back to school, finishing up my degree, looking for work. I should be done and graduating by August."

  "That's great. I'm happy for you."

  I nod. “I'll be a real journalist."

  "You're going to do great."

  There are all these pauses and stops in our conversation. It's like we're both hesitant, uncertain.

  I ask him about himself, and he tells me about working long hours, taking on new clients. No specific details, just the amount of work.

  And after we catch up, there's still this hesitation. It doesn't feel exactly like it did back in the hotel room where we gushed and we talked for hours into the night.

  Something is different, and it's because we've both hurt each other. I want to apologize. Again. For real.

  He deserves so much more than a simple thank you. He needs to know that he had changed my li
fe. But I also want to tell him that I was angry and why I was angry, and ask him why he had kept it a secret, but for some reason I can't do any of this.

  "Are you dating anyone?" Dante asks out of the blue.

  "No.” I shake my head.

  "Good. Do you want to go on a date with me?"

  I smile, nod, and suddenly everything that seemed so complicated is no longer.

  That evening I blow Allison off. Her words, not mine.

  I get ready for my date and find a nice sundress and flip-flops and let my hair go wild.

  The humidity has really kicked in, and though it's normally sort of limp and bland, suddenly it has insane volume. I put on red lipstick, not my usual fare, but this is an unusual situation.

  "You know that you're just abandoning me, right? I mean, you just met this guy and you already have a date with him. That's really unfair.” Allison looks around the room. "You were gone this whole time at the beach."

  "I invited you to the beach," I point out, "so you could have come."

  "Whatever.” She rolls her eyes.

  "Okay, you know that it's not some guy," I say, lining my eyes and putting some mascara on my lashes. "This is Dante we're talking about, this is the guy that I've been thinking about for months."

  "Yeah, the guy that you had a huge fight with and the guy who didn't return your calls.”

  “That woman was his sister-in-law and the way he asked me out,” I say, turning around, still holding the mascara wand in my hand and the bottle in the other. “It was so romantic.”

  Allison exhales. "Okay, you know that I'm a sucker for a good love story as much as the next woman, but I'm just worried that you're going to get hurt.”

  “You mean the guy who secretly paid for my mom's medical treatment and saved her life, you're afraid he's going to be the one who's going to break my heart?” I challenge her.

  “Of course. What if he’s not such a nice guy? Why did he do that in the first place? You were strangers.”