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“Lounge chairs are next to the deck at the bottom of the stairs,” he tells me as I gather my things.
We kiss, and I head down the five stairs to the sand below, sunglasses in hand. The lounge chairs are double-wide, enough for two people to fit on, but light enough to carry. I pop it open once I get to about fifteen feet from the deck. I wave to Chase, who’s sitting on a cushioned chair, reading a book next to the playpen.
There is a gentle breeze coming off the water, and it’s already in the seventies even though it’s early. I adjust the chair, slip on my glasses, and promptly fall asleep under the sun’s warm rays. I’m not sure how long I sleep, but when I wake, the sun has changed position. I’m surprised that Chase hasn’t come down or called me.
Having had enough sun, I decided to call it a day. My arms are starting to turn red, and my nose feels tight. I rise from the chair and drag it back to the deck box where I got it from. It seems heavier than it was when I took it out, so I leave it next to the box before I ascend the stairs. I’m going to have to ask Chase to put it away later.
Strangely, neither Chase or CJ is on the deck any longer. As I pass over the threshold, I stop short at the scene in front of me. A man is holding a bat, standing above a prostrate Chase, and I can’t find CJ anywhere. A scream stops short of erupting from my mouth as the man looks up. Barrett.
“What are you doing here?” I demand, trying to keep my voice from cracking.
“It’s called finishing the job.”
Barrett is no longer the dirty, bearded, shaggy-haired man I saw following us in Manhattan. He is clean-shaven and dressed in khaki shorts and a white polo shirt, which makes him look like a slightly younger version of Chase.
“Barrett, please.” I plead.
“He lied to me! He promised me; we had a pact.”
I hear Chase start to groan, and he weakly turns over onto his back. A large red welt has formed on his right cheek, swelling and misshaping his face. I assume it must be where Barrett hit him.
“Where’s my son?” he utters.
“He’s safe. For now.”
I can’t hold back as I begin screaming, “Where’s CJ?! What did you do to him?!”
“Barrett,” Chase groans.
“You lied to me! You promised.”
Chase tries to touch his cheek. “I don’t understand.”
“You promised to protect me, but you never did. You were always worried about your grades, and you left me with him.”
“I tried.”
“I was watching you, you know. You weren’t supposed to be alive.”
“Barrett, please.”
“The wheels are in motion. You have no one to blame but yourself, and now you’ve involved others!”
Frozen, I can’t believe what I’m hearing. He wants to murder Chase and maybe us too, all for some pact, some unspoken promise? I need to reason with him, or he’s going to kill us.
“Barrett, what did Chase promise?” I ask, drawing his attention away from his brother.
“Never to have a child. He promised that the Pearce name would die with us. We made a pact because we didn’t want our kids to end up like us!”
“It was my mistake,” I try reasoning. “Chase didn’t know about my son.”
“It doesn’t matter. It will be rectified.”
The wild, sick look on Barrett’s face makes my mind go into overdrive. But from somewhere in the house, I hear CJ crying. My first instinct is to go to him.
“Where’s my son?” I beg.
“He’ll be at peace soon enough.”
