Callahan’s boat was anchored in shallow water on the other side of the island. Robert had come over by water taxi, telling the guy this big lie about meeting a friend and kayaking out before the hurricane had a chance to move in. It hadn’t occurred to him until the taxi boat bounced back over the waves that now he was stranded out here, too. The only way off the fucking island was Callahan’s boat and the bitch doctor’s kayak, which Robert had spotted in the brush. Something to consider in his future planning.

He’d swiped the kayak paddle. That was thinking ahead. Antonia Winter wasn’t going anywhere unless Robert wanted her to.

Granny used to tell him that even as smart as he was, she was afraid he didn’t think like regular people. He used to think she was just a sweet old stick in the mud with no imagination, no sense of adventure, but nowadays, sometimes, he wondered if she’d been on to something after all. Here he was, stranded, on an island—a goddamn wildlife refuge—a hurricane on the way, de-ticking himself, risking his life—and for what? A little payback. A little justice in this world. That’s what.

It made him sick, thinking about himself in pain, with the bloody foot, hoping Antonia—Sweet Antonia, he used to call her—would give him some kind of hint that she was interested in him. He’d fantasized that she’d seize the opportunity he’d provided for her and let down her guard, open up to him, show her feelings. Instead, she’d made him feel like a goddamn loser. A twelve-year-old with a crush. Some jerk-off who didn’t have a clue, thinking he had a chance with a woman like her.

After she’d called the cops on him, she’d probably gone out with Hank Callahan.

Robert sank back against the dune, getting more sand on him. Justice. Revenge. She couldn’t get away with what she’d done to him. It wasn’t right. She’d betrayed him, humiliated him, and she had to suffer. She wasn’t the woman he’d thought she was. He’d believed in her, and where had it gotten him? Out here behind a goddamn dune.

Whatever he ended up doing to her, he wanted her to know it was him. No more anonymity. He wanted to hear her beg, see her fear, and know he’d caused it.

“Amen.” He opened his eyes against the rain, letting it wash onto his upturned face. “Amen!”