Wicked Luck

by Shannon L. Maynard

17. JUST AFTER DARK: SECRETS

  Dax

  The fire has gained Ava’s undivided attention. Every time I glance up at her, she’s staring at the flames like she’s waiting for Preston to jump out of the center and yell, ‘Surprise!’. Whatever thoughts have taken over her mind won’t be leaving without some coaxing from me.

  “Great job on the fire,” I say, “I’m impressed. Maybe you really do possess magical powers. I’ll tell Chief Anwai you are Ava—goddess of fire and snakes.” I laugh, but she barely manages a smile.

  Her pleasant mood disappeared when I left to go out in the rain, and now I’m cursing myself for leaving her alone. What happened in those few short minutes? She’s not talking at all. Maybe she discovered her journal is missing and is angry about my betrayal. I mentally prepare to apologize and give the journal back along with a lame excuse of uncontrollable curiosity, but then I see a tear trickle down her cheek that she tries to quickly wipe away unnoticed. Of course. How ridiculous of me to think I might be the source of her worried thoughts.

  “So, what was he like?”

  “Preston was perfect,” she says quietly.

  I was right. “No one’s perfect.”

  She frowns, but then her expression softens. “Well, almost perfect. Except for his annoying habit of tricking me and taking advantage of my gullibility.”

  Her fire-staring trance has been broken, but now she looks down at her hands.

  “Where were you headed?” I ask with caution, trying to avoid the wrath she inflicted on me yesterday.

  “We were flying to Australia, to pick up Preston’s boss.” Her own words trigger another thought and she looks up at me, her expression full of hope. “So if the plane crashed and we never arrived… Mr. Caruso would have sent out a search party to look for us. How stupid of me. I should have stayed on the beach today,” she says in hurried sentences.

  I pause before answering, knowing I’ll probably regret what I’m about to say. “We would’ve heard a plane. Besides, they search the water looking for survivors, and like I told you, I’m sure this island tends to be avoided. Mostly because they figure if you ended up here, you wouldn’t have survived for long.”

  “Well, if that’s true, a search team could have found Preston, Kirk, and Anna already. Then Preston will come looking for me for sure. Maybe he just took his shirt off in the water, and it washed up on shore along with his name tag.”

  She’s beaming with happiness from her conclusion but as hard as I try, my voice doesn’t match her enthusiasm when I tell her, “Maybe.” After an awkward pause, I say, “So you still don’t remember anything?”

  She shakes her head.

  “Well, I’m not surprised you can’t remember. You must have had a concussion. You’ll remember eventually, but it might take a while. But I think it’s a safe bet to assume the plane crashed. Everything I found was on the plane, right? And you were wearing an aviation life vest, so at some point, you must have known you might crash.”

  “Yeah, and now I think it may have been intentional.”

  “Intentional? Are you serious? Like someone wanted you to crash?” I catch myself scooting closer to her. “No way. Why would you think that?”

  “It’s a long story.”

  “Oh, right. And I’m super busy. Let me check my schedule and see if I have time to hear it.” She peeks up at me. “Wait, that’s right. I don’t have a schedule.” I beg with my dimples. “Come on. It’s the least you can do to repay me for saving you from certain death four times—actually five, if you count the fire-breathing dragons ten years ago.” Her contagious laughter echoes through the cave, and then she takes the cooked meat I offer her with puppy-dog eyes. “Please?”

  She sighs, starting with her moving to California after her parents died and then moving on to tell me about getting the job at Oceanview Aviation while I pretend the info is something I don’t already know.

  “So that’s where I met Preston,” she says.

  Here we go. I brace myself and hope the verbal version is less gushy than the written one so I won’t end up gagging on my food. But she’s not gushing. In fact, she’s stopped talking and is glancing around the cave and at me like she’s debating on telling me anymore. My thoughts slip out of my mouth.

  “That’s it?”

  “No. It’s just that I’ve never talked about Preston to anyone.” She pauses to take a deep breath before exhaling slowly. “Shortly after we started… you know, dating… I started getting anonymous notes, like warnings.”

  Acting is not something I’m good at. Neither is lying.

  “What did the notes say?” I ask, with a sudden interest in the coconut I hold in my hands.

  “The first one said, ‘Be careful—he knows your secret’, the second one said, ‘You’re being watched’, and then the third said, ‘Don’t push your luck’, and—”

  My laughter interrupts her. “Don’t push your luck. That’s funny.” I’m laughing alone, so I stop and clear my throat. “Sorry, please continue.”

  “Anyway, the last note said, ‘Don’t get on the plane’.”

  What? Is she messing with me? Because that’s not cool. Man, and I got sucked right in like a Boy Scout waiting on the edge of his log to hear a ghost story around the campfire.

  “Right. I see how it is,” I tell her. “If you want to mess with me, that’s fine. But next time a fire-breathing dragon shows up, you’re on your own.”

  “I’m not kidding. I wish I was,” she says, watching me thrust the coconut onto a rock and then wedge the blade of my knife in the crack to pry it open.

  I hand her a piece. “If that’s really what the last note said, then why’d you get on the plane?”

  “I just found the last note in my backpack while you were outside earlier. I don’t remember reading it, so I must have opened the envelope after we were already flying. Unless you opened it.”

  “What? No. I didn’t—open any envelope.” Just your personal journal that I’ve been studying like a weekly churchgoer studies a bible.

  “Well then, I must have opened it too late.”

  “Wow.” I crack a smile to lighten the mood. “That is some wicked luck. Did you tell Preston about the other notes?”

  “I tried, but he laughed them off and blamed it on a secret admirer. At first, I thought the notes were from him, but he denied sending them. I didn’t want him to worry, so I went along with his theory even though they didn’t have an admirer type of feel. I never told him exactly what they said.”

  “So who do you think sent them?”

  “I know who sent them now. I just don’t know why.”

  “Well, obviously they knew someone wanted you dead.”

  She flashes a look that makes me glance away. My blatant honesty must be irritating her. Preston would probably say nothing of the sort. He’d tell her I’m wrong before assuring her not to worry about it, then promise to make it all better and take care of her. But the truth is, he failed to take care of her, and now here she is.

  “So why would someone want you dead? Besides the fact that you would make an excellent meal,” I say, adding more wood to the fire.

  “I’m not sure, but it could have something to do with a trust my parents left me.”

  “So there are benefits to being poor. I didn’t think so until now. So is that the secret?” I wait for her to answer, but she stubbornly refuses. “What? Are you’re afraid I’ll tell someone? Relax. Roxy and I don’t have slumber parties. We don’t sit around the fire sharing girly gossip while we braid each other’s hair. Spill it already.”

  Her eyes narrow. “Why do you want to know?”

  “I’m just curious,” I say. “And maybe I’m wondering if I should sleep with one eye open.”

  “So if I was a wanted fugitive, would you think twice about rescuing me next time?”

  “No. Because judging by your reaction when I slaughtered this pig, I don’t think you killed anyone, at least not intentionally.” I lie down
on my side to face her and prop my head up with one hand. “But I’ve been wrong before, and I’m all alone with you in this cave. So if you do decide to kill me in my sleep, do me a favor and grant my dying wish first. I want a kiss, and make sure to make it a good one.” The comment elicits a piece of coconut shell being thrown at my head. “Come on. Don’t hold out on me. Everyone has a secret.”

  “Do you?” she asks.

  “Of course. I have a few. One of them I already shared with you—the castle. Now it’s our secret.”

  “What’s another one?”

  “I asked you first.”

  “Fine. I found out my parents adopted me. They weren’t really my parents.”

  “Whatever. I don’t believe that for a second. You look exactly like your mom.”

  “That’s because she has a twin sister, who’s my birth mom. But she died right after I was born, and her death is still a mystery. Some think she committed suicide, but witnesses claim she was murdered. My parents never told me the truth, and I think they were trying to protect me from something or someone. Maybe from the person I was being warned about. I discovered the secret after my parents died. I just think it’s strange, you know, that they didn’t tell me. And her obituary doesn’t say anything about me. It’s like I didn’t exist, to her at least.”

  “That’s kinda weird, but it doesn’t seem like something worth killing over,” I tell her, but then I can’t help saying, “And speaking of killing, I guess this means I won’t be getting my dying wish since you’re not secretly planning to kill me in my sleep.”

  She shakes her head. I see the hint of a smile before she crisscrosses her legs and takes another bite of coconut.

  “So tell me another one of your secrets,” she asks, waiting patiently for a response.

  “Okay.” I make a dramatic pause. “My name is Dax, and I’m a coconut-aholic. I’ve been this way for three years, and some days are harder than others.” I give her a sideways glance, and then burst out laughing at her taken-off-guard expression. She laughs too and chucks another small piece of coconut at my chest.

  “So where were you going before you ended up here?” she asks.

  “We were running away to Australia. My stepmother was convinced that someone was trying to kill her, but I think she was just crazy. That’s hereditary, you know—keep that in mind when you meet Roxy tomorrow. Anyway, she had a lot of money so she bought a boat and made my dad take boating classes. Then she convinced him to take us away. I was mad about it for a long time. I resented her for taking me away from my friends and my perfect life, until I figured out that anger just eats away at you, little by little, until it consumes you and you can’t enjoy anything. So I let it go, but Roxy refuses to.”

  I sit up to rotate the pig, and then continue. “Roxy had a boyfriend in California, and like you, she thought the world revolved around him. I tried to console her on our trip by telling her there were plenty of other guys, and she’d find some hot Australian guy. Of course, she makes me eat those words now until I choke on them, almost on a daily basis.”

  After a minute of silence, I tell her, “Well, I’m beat,” and grab the life vest by the wall to tuck under my head. “Being your knight in shining armor and rescuing you two times in one day is a taxing job.”

  I close my eyes and picture her rolling hers before curling up a few feet away. It takes her a long time to fall asleep and when she finally does, I silently flip to the page in her journal bookmarked with a small piece of vine.

  July 19

  I’m still super irritated about my notebook. The whole incident might have ruined my week if Preston hadn’t picked me up at noon today and drove to a scenic spot overlooking the beach. He brought a picnic lunch and we sat on a blanket, eating sandwiches and enjoying the view. He fed me a grape and then said, “So, Miss April. Tell me something I don’t know about you. What’s your biggest fear?”

  Losing you and being alone again is what I thought, but I couldn’t say it out loud so I decided to go with my second biggest fear. I told him I thought I was being followed.

  His mouth twitched on one side, and then he shot me a narrowed glance. “By who? Your secret admirer?” he said, trying to lighten the mood. I told him about the black car and the second note that said I was being watched. The concern on his face lasted for only a moment before his expression relaxed. His thoughts led him to some conclusion that erased his own worry, but not mine.

  He glanced over his shoulder and then back to me. “Do you see the black car now?” he asked. I looked in every direction and started to feel relieved, but then I caught a glimpse of a black car below us, parked on the side of the road. It was a Mercedes, but from that distance, I couldn’t tell if it was the same one. I wanted to tell him about the library but I’m sure my paranoia is just getting the best of me, so I struggled to think of something else to say. Before I could answer, he said, “My biggest fear is that you worry too much,” and turned my face to his.

  His eyes dropped to my lips at the same time mine fell to his, and my heart swelled in my chest, pounding harder and faster as he leaned closer. My worries about the car were immediately forgotten as his hand slid across my stomach to rest at my waist. He kissed me tenderly, but when he pulled away, I caught sight of that stupid, black car. “What if someone is watching us right now?” I said, regretting it immediately.

  He blinked at me and then his lips curved into a mischievous grin. “Then let them watch,” he told me. He casually reached for a grape to put it in my mouth. “Now that you have a secret admirer, that means I have competition,” he told me with a playful smirk before he mumbled that whoever it was couldn’t be much of a looker if he was resorting to secret notes. Then, out of the blue, he asked, “Do you want to go to a party tomorrow night?”

  I hesitated, wondering if it was some sort of trick question, but then he explained that Kirk’s mom owns an art gallery in L.A. and she’s having a private exhibit next Friday, an opening party for an up-and-coming artist. It’s invitation only—an exclusive reception with food, music, art, and an auction. After I agreed to go, he gathered everything up and said we had to go downtown to pick up his tux.

  When we arrived at the formal boutique, a curvy, platinum-blonde came rushing toward us. She greeted Preston with a peck on the cheek and a, “Hello, darling,” then turned to look at me. She was tall and slim, making the stiletto heels seem unnecessary. I felt simple and plain standing next to her and hoped Preston wouldn’t notice. He gave my hand a squeeze before asking her to find me a formal gown to wear to the party. I must say she definitely knows what she’s doing because the elegant, white gown fits like a satin glove. Eloquent scrolls of black rhinestones mixed with a trail of glitter run down one side, and the back drapes to the floor and pools behind me. I can hardly wait for tomorrow.

  I purposely skip the next entry and bookmark the entry after. The last thing I want to read about is how Preston looked like a GQ model in his designer tux, or how they danced all night until the clock struck midnight and Ava ran down the stairs and left her glass slipper behind.

  Yeah. I’m jealous.

  I close my eyes and try to imagine her in that dress, the smooth satin hugging her skin and making her look curvy in all the right places. Now I’m picturing myself in a tux, my hands gliding over her waist, the thin, silky layer of fabric separating my hands from her soft skin. I’d pull her close on the dance floor and keep her pressed against me, and then I’d kiss her until she forgot there was anyone else around.