Feeling the familiar breathlessness, I slowed as I ambled toward Madeline’s and saw the bird of paradise flower at her grave. Somehow, I just knew they were from him, but there was something else I couldn’t make out. I glanced around, hopeful that he was still at the cemetery but didn’t see him or any motorcycles. As I reached the grave, my eyes made out what the other thing was at her graveside.
I gasped at the sight; then the flashes came as I braced myself, the same ones I’d had back at the bike shop when Xavier thought I might be having a heart attack.
All the M&M gifts.
One after another flashed before me as I squeezed my eyes shut. My heart swelled again and the tears came. Only they were happy tears, and I smiled as I opened my eyes and looked down at the cornucopia on my sister’s grave. I’d seen them at the festival. It was made from what looked like a sugar cone wrapped in plastic and tied with an orange bow. But I hadn’t seen any filled with M&M’s like this one at the many craft vendors. Of course, I’d stopped halfway through walking the festival, so there might’ve been someone selling these.
Leaning over to read what the tag said, I wasn’t going to pick it up. Only when I read what it said, I clutched my chest with one hand and reached for it.
Amor eterno.
I fell to my knees and sobbed. It was by far the most heart-wrenching of all the emotions I’d felt since this all began. This was driving me insane now. I had no idea what to do about it anymore. I felt wretched. Broken. Empty. My heart was being torn apart, and then it dawned on me, and I jerked my head up. He was here. He was close by.
I had visuals of driving around town like a maniac listening for the roar of his bike. I truly was losing my mind. The man didn’t want to see me. I’d promised Nolan I wouldn’t torment his brother any more than he already was. I’d stay away. But I needed to talk to him. I needed to know what it was that was tormenting me!
Then I had a thought. I stood up, frowning when I realized the knees of my pants were soaked through from the wet sod I’d fallen on. Wiping away at my tears, I placed the flowers I’d brought my sister down next to the ones he’d brought. Starting back to my car, I was well aware I’d taken the gift. I had to. I knew it was wrong. It wasn’t mine to keep, but I didn’t know why I needed it.
Pulling out the notebook in my purse as soon as I was in the car, I read the directions I’d written down. This would be a challenge. The roads to the pier in the painting had no names. There were just landmarks that may not even be there anymore after all these years. But I had to find it. My stubborn heart was hopeful I’d find answers there.
The first part of the trip wasn’t so difficult. These roads at least were numbered. Once I got past the water tower out in the middle of nowhere, it got tricky. I was supposed to be looking out for a huge cactus, one with lots of purple prickly pears. I was hopeful it’d be there since cactuses lasted forever. At least it seemed they did since they didn’t even require too much water.
My heart thudded at the sight of the cactus with all the purple fruit on it. I pulled over to read the next part out loud. “About five hundred yards after, there is a dirt road.”
I frowned after reading it. Why hadn’t I thought to ask him to give me the measurements in miles or feet? I pulled out my phone and Googled how many yards were in a mile then did the math. Five hundred yards was very roughly a quarter mile. I set my trip odometer to zero and started driving slowly, glad this road was so out in the boonies there weren’t any cars in sight that I might hold up.
Again, my heart went a little nuts when I saw the unkempt dirt road. In the same elated breath, my stomach sank. The road was a mess from yesterday’s rain. I stopped the car and got out to assess what I was in for. I tapped the dirt with my shoe. It wasn’t too bad. Glancing back at my car, I wondered if I should chance it.
Since I was already all the way out here and I’d actually found the road, which seemed like the hardest part of the directions, I decided to take my chances. I started back to the car and got in, glancing down at my notebook. The next leg of this trip was to go straight down the road for about five miles until I saw the lake. After that, Nolan said I’d turn left and go another hundred yards or so and then I’d see it.
“Easy peasy,” I said, turning onto the dirt road.
Ignoring my nervous insides when one of the tires spun without moving but then jumped out of whatever it almost got stuck in, I pushed down on the gas. It was nerve-wracking, but after a couple of miles, I was a little less nervous about this. “I can do this,” I said, getting excited.
The pier was just a few more miles away. That trigger I’d had at the storage unit when I first saw the painting was second in intensity only to the one I got when I read Nicolas’s note today. This pier was calling to me. This bumpy ride was totally worth it.
That is until one of the tires got stuck again and this time didn’t jump out of whichever hole it was in, no matter how much I pressed on the gas. “No!” I screamed in anger.
After pounding on the steering wheel out of sheer frustration, I got out to assess at the damage. Both back wheels were buried almost a fourth of the way in mud. I glanced around, looking for something I might stick under them that could help them grip something other than mud. I remembered someone doing that on TV or something. There were nothing but overgrown shrubs alongside the muddy road. I saw a few big rocks that might do the trick and attempted to move them, but they were stuck in the mud. So, I proceeded to try and nudge them with my foot.
Nothing.
“Damn it!”
I pushed harder this time, and my other foot slipped on the mud, and I went down, landing on my side—face in the mud. Spitting out mud that slid in my mouth, I wiped at my face with my one clean arm and started to push myself, only to fall back down on my ass this time. Instinctively, I’d used both hands to break my fall, and now both my hands were wrist deep in mud. I shook the mud off my hands with an angry chuckle, which turned into maniacal laughter that quickly morphed into crying then sobbing.
What the hell was I doing? What did I expect to find on some stupid old pier? More carvings of initials? More flashes? What good would it do? I still wouldn’t have answers.
After a few minutes of sitting there in the middle of a muddy road with half my body covered in mud, I finally got up. I shook the mud off my hands then wiped more off on a part of my pants that wasn’t already covered in it.
I walked to my car and looked at myself in the window’s reflection. I was a mess. Even the side of me I hadn’t fallen on was splattered with mud. My makeup had run all over, and my eyes were all puffy and red. I grabbed my keys from where I’d left them in the ignition and walked around the back to the trunk. I knew I had an old rag in there, and I tried to clean off a little, but the mud it seemed was everywhere.
Once I was as clean as I was going to get, I grabbed my phone so I could call Triple-A. The call dropped the second I hit send. “Of course,” I muttered, trying again several times until I had to stop before I threw my phone in the fucking mud.
Groaning but refusing to have another crying fit, I grabbed my purse and threw my keys and phone in then took the cornucopia and locked my car. With no other choice, I started back to the main road where I should’ve just turned around and gone back to town. I just prayed that I’d get signal once I was back on the paved road. The way I looked, a crack head whore had a better chance of hitching a ride than I did. The walk felt a lot longer than the short distance I thought I’d traveled, and halfway back, I lost a shoe when it got stuck in the mud.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake!”
I picked it up as fast as I could, but mud had already seeped into it. The more I walked and my feet kept getting stuck in the slush, the more I couldn’t believe I’d been stupid enough to think I could drive my car through the mess of a road. Finally, I could see the main road up ahead, but I dared not try using my phone yet. With my luck, I’d drop it in the mud too; then I’d really be in trouble.
A f
ew steps before reaching the main road and coming out of the bushes, I started to look in my purse for my phone, but I waited until I was on the pavement before pulling it out. When I finally glanced up, I froze.
There he sat on his motorcycle, looking even bigger than he had the last two times I’d seen him. He stared at me, his expression a strange mix of staggered and at the same time confusion.
“Maggie?”
I nodded, unable to catch my breath. Nicolas was even more beautiful somehow since the last time I’d seen him. His green eyes did so much to me with a single gaze just as they had the first times. I just couldn’t understand why my heart yearned for him so much.
“What the fuck happened to you?” he asked, his body somehow puffing up and making him look bigger as he straightened up. Those piercing eyes took me in from top to bottom “Did someone do this to you?”
“I got stuck in the mud back there,” I said, pointing behind me, “then fell.”
His eyes continued to scrutinize me. Then they stopped and his expression changed—went hard almost. “Is that?’
I glanced down at what he was looking at, the cornucopia I held in my hand. The long walk had made me hungry since I’d skipped breakfast, and I’d eaten half the M&M’s.
“You took the gift I left Maddie?” he asked, his tone as annoyed as when he’d stormed out of the bike shop.
Chapter 17
Nicolas glared at me as if I were a career grave robber stealing from random graves. This was my sister’s grave after all. “If I hadn’t, the groundskeepers would’ve, once they cleared everything out this week. I thought it’d be nice to take home and keep it with all her other stuff.”
I glanced down at it, knowing full well he could see it was half empty now. When our eyes met again, it was obvious he didn’t buy my story. I probably looked like the fat kid who ate all the cookies and vehemently denied it, even with a face full of crumbs.
Wiping the corner of my lips casually, I held my chin up. “It was a long walk. I didn’t have any breakfast, so I got hungry, okay? I can refill the candy.”
As annoyed as I knew he was, the pain of what seeing me did to him shone through his eyes despite his anger. “What are you doing out here anyway?” he asked.
Feeling stupid, I explained about wanting to see the old pier. “I was in town to visit my sister’s grave for her birthday, and I figured since I was here, it might be nice to visit the pier.”
His head tilted slightly. “You remember it?”
“No,” I said, feeling the pain slice through my heart. “I found an old painting of it and . . .”
I stopped, remembering the dream where he mentioned my being with his brother. Something told me that if he knew I was now keeping in touch with Nolan it would only make his resolve to stay away from me even stronger.
“Well, I guess I did have a sort of spark of a memory.”
“And you remembered how to get here?”
Well, shit.
“I wasn’t sure I would,” I said, once again amazed at how quick I was to come up with the lies. “I decided to take a drive today and see if it came to me, and it did. What are you doing here?”
I added that last question to change the subject from me to him. It was hard enough to calm my heart and the wild emotion I felt when my eyes roamed his tatted neck and hard body. But when he gazed at me that way whenever he slipped out of his annoyed glare, it made it infinitely harder.
“I thought I’d check the pier out too, but once I saw the mud, I realized that wasn’t happening.”
“Well,” I said, lifting my chin again, trying not to feel as stupid as his suggestive comment made me feel. “I was in a car, and it didn’t seem that bad. It just got worse and worse the farther I drove in.”
“So, I guess you finally got your license. I wasn’t sure you ever got past your anxiety of driving since my brothers said your friend was driving the day you showed up at my shop.” He shook his head as if that memory alone was bothersome. “You better get a tow truck out here fast There’s a chance of more rain again tonight, and if that happens, your car could be stuck in there for days.
“Wait,” I said when I realized he might be getting ready to leave. “I have no signal. Can you give me a ride?”
I tried hitting call on any of the numbers on my screen to reconfirm, but the call dropped immediately. When I looked up at him, his expression was a panicked one. His jaw clenched, and his body seemed to tense before his jaw loosened and muttered, “On the back of my bike.”
It was more of an almost annoyed statement as if just the thought was something he had to mentally prepare himself for.
“Yes, please.”
“You don’t have a helmet.”
Again, it felt more like he was just delaying the inevitable so that he could have more time to prepare.
“I’ll take my chances. But you can’t just leave me here, Nico.”
He closed his eyes then squeezed them shut. “Please don’t call me that. I can’t hear it, not in your voice.”
I swallowed back the growing emotion every minute around him brought on. “Okay,” I whispered. “But can you please help me out here?”
Noticeably exhaling, he opened his eyes again. “Yeah.” He nodded, pressing his lips together. “Of course.”
Before he could change his mind and because I could hardly wait to be close enough to touch him, I rushed to his bike. Without even thinking, I hopped on behind him as if I’d done it a million times. Nicolas tensed the moment I slipped my arms around his waist.
He handed me his helmet over his shoulder. “No,” I said immediately. “You wear it.”
“Just put it on,” he said, holding it out for me.
“No. I said I’d take my chances. It wouldn’t be fair.”
“I want you to.”
“I don’t want it.”
I’d never forgive myself if, because of an irresponsible and stupid choice I made, something happened to him.
He turned around and peered at me strangely. His eyes once again took my breath away, even when the strange expression turned into annoyance and then gave way to a hint of the torment Nolan spoke of. “Please?”
“No.”
The annoyance was instantly back. “We’re not moving until you put it on. The rain may be coming, Maggie. We can’t be driving in it either. So, I suggest you put the damn thing on.”
His eyes fell to my lips then my neck before turning back around and shoving the helmet over his shoulder at me again.
“Fine,” I said, taking it and putting it on.
Poof!
The roar of the motor coming alive and the vibration between my legs as I held on to him, coupled with the scent of him, tore through my heart and had me hugging him even tighter. I leaned my cheek against his hard back, closing my eyes and inhaling the heavenly scent of him as the visuals flashed in my head.
“You okay?” he asked, turning slightly.
I nodded, glad I didn’t have to speak because I was certain my voice would break.
“You’re not scared, are you? I know you never liked riding on a motorcycle.”
How could that be possible? This felt perfect. This time I shook my head against his back, unable to say what I wanted to because of the huge boulder lodged in my throat. Never.
He revved the engine, making the swell in my heart that much more intense. Turning the heavy bike around, we headed back to town. I lifted my face away from him, feeling the wind against my face and the almost healing effect it had on my tortured heart.
The whole way back to town, I marveled at how perfect it felt to practically wrap myself around him. Clearly, he was still feeling the effects of seeing me again because, each time I leaned the side of my face against his heavenly back, I felt and heard how strong and rapidly his heart beat.
We reached the outskirts of the town, and he pulled into a Hostess bread outlet mart. “You should get signal here,” he said as he killed the engine once he’d pulled over.
It almost hurt to have to let go of him, but I did, feeling an emptiness in my soul—that hole I’d been feeling for years—but strangely, I felt hopeful. At least I might get some closure since he might be forced to talk to me if he planned on waiting with me while the tow truck arrived. The outlet was closed, and there wasn’t much else around. I just didn’t see him leaving me there all alone. Though it seemed like the idea of bolting on me had been a thought once already.
Somehow, I got the feeling, especially after his insistence that I wear the helmet, that even if he’d thought about bolting for a split second, he wouldn’t now. Maybe it kicked in that I was the sister of the love of his life. As feisty as they made her out to be, she’d be upset at him from the grave if he didn’t stick around to make sure I was okay.
I got off the bike and proceeded to look through my wallet for my Triple-A card. As I waited for them to answer, I noticed Nicolas eyeing me. As he had earlier and that first time at the cemetery, he took me in from top to bottom. I couldn’t even imagine what it must feel like to look at someone who looked exactly like the one you loved so profoundly and lost. Or maybe I could . . .
Not surprising, I was given an hour and a half wait time. Nicolas seemed more panicked by that then when I first asked if he could give me a ride. “An hour and a half?”
I nodded with a wince. “You don’t have to stay,” I said after seeing the torment in his eyes and wondering how long it’d take him to get over this encounter.
As much as I yearned to talk to him—be around him—I knew it was cruel to insist on being around him. “I’m not leaving you out here by yourself,” he said, frowning and sitting back in a more relaxed position on his bike. “I’m sorry I even considered it back there. I wouldn’t have gone more than a mile before turning back to get you if I’d driven away. I just . . .”
Girl In The Mirror (Looking Glass Book 1) Page 16