The Bottom of the Sea

Part 23: Secrets

"No one's supposed to be there, Jake." I tried to keep my voice calm. "Get out of there."

"I'm calling the police," he said.

"No!" I shouted. "Please, Jake. I will meet you at your house, OK? Can I hang out there for a while?"

He hesitated.

"Sure. But I really think we should call the police. There's someone in the house; they could be robbing you blind."

"That's why I want you to leave right now," I said, pleading. "You're freaking me out, Jake. Do you really want to stress a pregnant woman?" I was being manipulative but I would have said anything to get him out of there. I didn't know who was in my house, but whether they were living or dead, I knew they were dangerous. If he ever got hurt because of me, I'd never forgive myself.

"Fine, fine. Don't be stressed! Meet me at my place." He gave me the address and I got in the car, my mind reeling. I'd just passed the town limits when I pulled over to the side of the road and took my shaking hands from the steering wheel. I took a few deep breaths and tried to calm myself hoping that Jake would listen and leave right away without calling the cops.

I always kept a bag of important things, a bit of money and some clothes in the trunk in case I ever had to make a quick getaway. I'd go visit Jake for a bit and then I'd stay in the Town's only hotel, the Harbour Pay 'n Stay. I didn't care that it was a dive; I just hoped it was clean.

I reset the GPS and headed to Jake's. He lived on the outskirts of town, somewhere along the cliffs that towered over the sea. I found the place easily and gasped when I pulled up the driveway.

The house was an enormous log home — more like a mansion — with floor-to-ceiling windows that glowed from within. It looked warm and welcoming against the indigo sky. I parked and took it all in. I knew Jake had money, but I didn't know it was this much.

"Come on in." He opened the door as soon as I reached his porch. "It's not much, but I'm working on it," he said, ushering me in and taking my coat. Not much? The chandelier alone looked like it cost more than my first car.

"Are you being funny?" I asked. "Oh." I stopped short when I got to the open concept living room. It was almost completely bare, except for a large, leather sofa and love seat curled up around a giant fireplace, an expensive-looking scarlet rug on the floor and a modest glass coffee table.

"I see what you mean. It could definitely use some...décor," I said, looking around. "A woman's touch, maybe."

"Well, the woman I was married to skipped town a couple months ago and took just about everything, including my best friend, so..." He ran a hand through his hair, looking around in disgust.

Foot, meet mouth. "I'm sorry, Jake. I didn't know."

"Forget about it. Come in and eat, you must be starved." I was. He set out some pizza slices for us on paper plates and poured me a drink. We sat on the floor and started eating; he had a glass of red wine and I had some sparkling water. Before I knew it, I'd consumed half the pizza.

"I can't believe someone so small can put away so much," he said, wiping his face with a napkin. He missed a bit of tomato sauce; it was cute. I literally shook my head to stop thinking nonsense and focus back in on the conversation. I handed him a napkin and pointed; embarrassed, he wiped the tomato sauce away.

"So. Your wife and your best friend? That's brutal," I said.

"And I never saw it coming. I'm a walking cliché," he said, throwing his balled-up napkin into the fire. "Crazy thing is, I lost them both and I miss him more than I miss her. He was my best friend since the tenth grade, all through college. A 15-year friendship, destroyed."