Twisted Secrets

by Amy McKinley

  2

  Riley

  I stepped into the Coffee Hut and was surrounded by its familiar, rich aroma of roasted beans minutes before my shift started. The coffeehouse, where I worked with Chloe, Melanie, and our boss Jeffrey, was inviting with its dark wooden ceiling, brick interior walls, and soft lighting. After a few waves and exchanged greetings with our regulars, I slipped behind the bar then reached for my uniform, which I’d left on a hook in the small back room the day before. I tied a hasty bow, securing my black apron with the Coffee Hut’s logo of a steaming coffee cup and the restaurant’s name in loopy script beneath it.

  “Hey, Riley.” Ava’s head popped up from her laptop, just noticing me, as she was engrossed in her work. “I didn’t think you would make it in today.”

  “One of those mornings.” I smiled at her as I rounded the counter and collected her empty cup. “Another?”

  “You know it. Keep ’em coming.” She looked over my shoulder and lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Thank God you’re here. Chloe makes them wrong.”

  Uncomfortable, I feigned a small laugh—my very likable coworker tended to be a little heavy-handed on the creamer, and I knew Ava only liked a dash. “I’ve got you.”

  After greeting my coworkers, I got to work, only partially acknowledging the so-glad-you’re-here echo and Chloe’s narrowed glance at Ava. Ava had become a friend, but the blond woman was a handful. For some reason, she’d been nice to me, but to the others I knew of who rotated shifts with me, not so much.

  As I made a new cup for Ava, I scanned the room furnished with four-tops and several oversized chairs with a table between them. All of our morning regulars were there. Ava was a writer and was in often, getting words in and guzzling coffee. She didn’t normally do idle chitchat. Despite her work ethic and busy schedule, we’d somehow become friends.

  A rustling sounded from the back room. Melanie exited minus her apron then sidled up next to me. “Hey, girl. Missed you at the Pizza Palace the other night. I thought you were going to hang with us?”

  The grad department was small, and we tried to get together once in a while. Mel had picked the pizza restaurant, and I truly liked hanging out with her. She was one of my first friends at school, and we both crushed on our theory professor and advisor—but we stopped chatting about that after the first few weeks of school. Her sarcastic and sassy nature was infectious, and I wished I’d gone the other night.

  “I was trying to catch up on homework and hadn’t finished in time to go.”

  “You were missed.” She tapped her nail on the counter and glanced at Ava, her face scrunched in distaste. “I don’t know why you like her. She’s a snob.”

  “Mel, Ava Murphy is a successful author, and you’re a grad student in English.” Based on that, Ava should have been an asset to her. We shared photography classes, but she was doing dual master’s degrees. I honestly didn’t pretend to understand writers.

  She flipped her tawny hair over her shoulder and pushed away from the counter. Her shift was over, and it was clear she was ready to leave. “She’s a nonfiction author. The only time I like to talk with her is about what we’re reading—which are fiction books.” Distaste dripped from her voice. “Besides, I don’t need to network with her. I’ve already gotten a few books published.”

  I paused and gave her my full attention. “You have? That’s great. And why haven’t you said anything? I’ll search your name later today and check them out.”

  She snorted, pivoting toward the door. Before she left, she looked at me over her shoulder. “You won’t find anything. They’re under a pen name.”

  That was weird. I guessed I wouldn’t buy her books, then. I shrugged, remembering she was always crabby when I relieved her from the early-morning Sunday shift. I wasn’t going to read too much into her flippant behavior. She was a good friend but had a tendency to run hot and cold.

  As Mel hurried out, I rounded the bar then set Ava’s cup on her table. Her fingers stilled on the keys, and she glanced at me with a ready smile. I was relieved when she didn’t immediately mention Mel—I worried that she could have caught part of our conversation.

  Ava reached for the steaming brew then took a hearty sip. “That’s so much better. I don’t know why that one”—she absently waved in Chloe’s direction—“cannot follow instructions.”

  Rather than fuel that particular fire, I tapped my finger on the cover of a book to the left of her laptop. “What’s this?” The title, The Spider’s Prey by C. Marx, looked intriguing and wasn’t like anything I usually saw her with. The cover was burnt orange with a silhouette of a woman running away in the background. Layered over the two was a glistening silver spider web with drops of blood clinging to several intricate strands.

  “That’s my guilty pleasure. Melanie recommended this author, and I’m so glad she did. I can’t get enough of her books.”

  “Really?” I picked it up and flipped it over to read the blurb on the back. It was a psychological thriller, and after reading what it was about, I, too, was intrigued. If Melanie and Ava liked it so much, maybe I would check it out.

  “The author is brilliant. And it’s a great break from the boring stuff I write.” She grabbed the book and attempted to stuff it into her oversized bag. “I have too much work to do. I shouldn’t even tempt myself with this.”

  The leather satchel slipped, dangling precariously on the edge of the chair, and a few things fell out. I bent down and picked up her sunglasses. “These are nice.” They were Gucci, and I could tell they were real. I didn’t buy expensive sunglasses—they were too easy to lose or damage. “Oh, there’s a scratch on the edge of the lens. I hope that didn’t just happen.”

  “No, I’ve had them forever.” She took them from my hand and shoved them into an inside pocket, got the book in, then set the bag securely on the chair next to her. Once that was done, she smiled. “Tight deadline and too much coffee. It’s making me jittery.”

  Ava wrote nonfiction, so I could see the appeal of the thriller, especially as it got her out of the academic world she typically existed in.

  One of our regulars stepped up to the counter, and I rushed back to get them what they needed before Jeffrey could emerge from the back office and catch me chatting on the floor.

  Bells chimed as the door to the Coffee Hut swung open, bringing with it a rush of Hawaiian humidity. I finished taking payment from another regular then glanced at the person who’d entered. My jaw dropped as a six-foot-two hulk of a man approached. The room seemed to shrink from his presence. Who is that?

  Xander

  I wove through people on the busy sidewalk, glad to be out of my condo. It was a beautiful day, and soon, the temperature would hit the mid-eighties. The waves were perfect for surfing, and it was taking all I had to stay on task rather than spend the day at the beach, riding them. But I had other things that needed to be done, like renovating the houses on my family’s private island.

  I mentally checked off the things I would need to buy for the next week of work. We had four houses, one for our parents, each of my two brothers, and myself. The island was more like a family compound, but we were the only ones who labeled it that way, and our secret was well guarded.

  With several weeks of time on my hands and not much else to do besides surf, I’d needed a project, and fixing up our island homes was a good one. A girlfriend would be nice too. But a familiar hollowness shadowed my footsteps ever since our mission had been ambushed the month before in Colombia. And I recognized the feeling as twofold—grief for those we’d lost and longing for a relationship like my parents had.

  I’d never been in a relationship with a woman who I thought could be the one, like my brothers had—but they had their own problems with that. At that point in my life, I was beginning to suspect I wouldn’t find someone who I couldn’t live without. But I had my family, and I needed to stop thinking crazy stuff and meet up with my brother.

  Jaxon was waiting for me to stop b
y the police station, where he was working as a beat cop for Chief Kane. They were understaffed with no one to pick up the slack, and he’d been a master-at-arms years ago. So when the police chief needed time off for surgery, he reached out and hired Jaxon. Of course, Jax said yes—he bore a boatload of guilt from when his friend, the police chief’s son, had died back in high school. Someday, I hoped he would share why. Ty and I hadn’t pushed him to talk. Maybe we should have.

  I didn’t know what exactly Jax wanted to meet about, but my guess was to see how I was doing. I rotated my shoulder, testing the tenderness around my injury. It was better, and if I hadn’t had words with our new SEAL team leader, I would already be back in the fold—which was where I wanted to be.

  I paused as an older man crossed my path to go into the Coffee Hut. The bell jingled overhead, and as he crossed the threshold, conversation spilled out onto the sidewalk.

  All the fine hairs on my body stood at attention, as if an electrical current ran through me. A woman’s sultry, sweet voice registered clearly.

  Everything in me froze. As if compelled, I locked eyes with the owner of the voice and found a gorgeous woman with dark, glossy hair and a runner’s slender build that looked firm but soft in all the right places. My thoughts stalled, emptied of all except her. Nothing so powerful had ever happened to me before, and I was determined to explore the unexplained connection. As the door swung back after the older man had entered, I stopped its progression and stepped inside.

  She stood by a table, wearing a black apron with the Coffee Hut’s logo, and chatted with a customer. Her inviting lips pulled into a smile for the blond librarian look-alike she was talking with, and the world around me faded away. I couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to experience her undivided attention, to witness her smile and her laugh, to feel the softness of her skin or the touch of her hand.

  As she turned and walked toward the coffee bar, I took an involuntary step forward as if an invisible thread connected us. The gentle sway of her hips urged me to follow. I caught a whiff of her perfume as I retraced her path to the counter. I had to meet her.

  In the distance, I registered the sounds of people talking. The rich scent of the coffee added to the cozy atmosphere. At the register, I stopped. There was no one else in line, and I stood before her. She was more beautiful than I’d first thought. Whiskey-colored eyes met mine, and at that moment, I knew my world would never be the same.

  Riley

  Heat stained my cheeks as our gazes locked. I snapped my mouth shut and feigned disinterest when I was anything but that. Tall, with broad shoulders quite possibly chiseled from stone, the man halted at the counter where I was, power telegraphed in his every move. But that wasn’t what drew my attention to him. It was the easy grin that curved his too-kissable lips.

  I cleared my throat, wondering where the hell that thought had come from. Guilt slammed into me after the instant pull to the stranger. I had a boyfriend who I was attracted to. We had history. I took a steadying breath and plastered a strained smile on my face.

  With Chloe busy cleaning up the empties around the room, I was left to take the hot customer’s order. I wasn’t sure that was such a good idea. Strength emanated from him, something almost like a magnetic pull. I wasn’t the only one who noticed. Several women and a few men had followed his progress from the door to the counter.

  “What can I get you?” Good. My voice was friendly but not overly so.

  “Coffee.”

  My brows rose in question. “Did you want anything else?” I waited and ignored how hearing his deep voice had felt like a full-body caress. Silence stretched between us, and I shifted from foot to foot under the weight of his stare.

  “Nope. Just black and to go.” His head tilted to the side, and his grin widened, flashing straight white teeth. “Unless you have a break coming up. Then I’ll have it here, so long as you join me.”

  The heat became an inferno on my face. “I don’t have a break. Just got here myself.” Wow, that was intelligent. I did a mental eye roll. Stepping away from the counter, I busied myself with getting his to-go cup. The couple of minutes away from his intensity helped me to calm the hell down.

  “That’s on the house,” Jeffrey called as he came out from the tiny back room.

  “Thanks, man,” Black Coffee said then turned his sinfully sexy smile my way. “I’ll be seeing you around.”

  He’d said it to Jeffrey but had locked his gaze with mine. I couldn’t move until he turned away then walked out the door. Holy hell, who was that guy?

  Jeffrey knew. I busied myself by wiping down the already clean counter behind the bar and—in spite of not wanting him to suspect I was interested, because I wasn’t; I was just curious. “You know him?”

  “I went to school with Xander, so yeah, you could say that. He and his brothers were always at parties, surfing, or playing sports. I thought he would’ve gone pro, but he followed in his dad’s footsteps and went into the Navy. He hasn’t been around for a while. Probably on assignment. Since he’s in the military, we comp his coffee. Same with his brothers, if they’re ever in.” Jeffrey turned his attention to Chloe, who precariously balanced a tray full of empties, and he rushed to help her. The crush he had on my coworker was amusing to watch. She was so bubbly and sweet that I didn’t think she had a clue how he felt. He took the tray from her, and they got to work loading up the dishwasher in the back.

  I scanned the small room, the cozy armchairs set off along the sides of the walls, and the wood-and-metal four-tops that filled the center. It was a busy morning. Ava waved from her usual spot in one of the corners. With no one coming through the door, I made my way over to her to chat.

  “Who’s the hunk?” Her blue eyes sparkled with mischief.

  I took in her ever-present low ponytail, which wasn’t much different from her other hairstyle of a tight bun, and couldn’t help compare it to the messy bun I’d hastily twisted on top of my head after the craptastic morning I’d had. We got along well, despite the vast differences in our personalities. It was apparent in everything about us, from her neat business casual attire, her professional hairstyle that was never out of place, and her tasteful makeup. My face was bare, aside from a light coat of moisturizing lip balm.

  Does Xander have a type? Ava made me wonder, as being around her with her sexy-librarian style sometimes made me feel invisible, and I couldn’t help but think he would have flashed that incredible smile her way if he’d noticed her first.

  “Riley.” Ava waved her hand in front of my face.

  “Oh.” I felt myself blush. I needed to snap out of it. “I don’t know him. Haven’t met him before. Jeffrey went to school with him.”

  She pursed her lips and scanned my face. “Well, if the advisor doesn’t work out, go for that guy.”

  3

  Riley

  My muscles ached as I trudged up the stairs to my one-bedroom rental. A double early-morning shift at the Coffee Hut hadn’t been the smartest thing after running ten miles as if someone had been chasing me the night before. But the breakneck pace I’d maintained had helped me to momentarily forget, in addition to providing a Band-Aid fix. The truth of the matter was that I couldn’t run away from my problems quickly enough. They would always be there, lurking.

  I’d fallen asleep after my shift the day before and had another nightmare. Dreams were a gift—or a curse—from the subconscious. They were supposed to rehash the events of the day or the past or foretell what was yet to come. That was what my theory class had discussed recently, in far more depth than I would have liked. The dream had left me exhausted and raw, even if I couldn’t remember it—something I was sure was a blessing. So I ran on the beach nearby, as I usually did to keep the darkness at bay.

  With a slight tug, I freed my hair from the tight ponytail I’d worn for work. My scalp ached, foretelling the headache I would get if I didn’t pull the restrictive band out. I finger combed my long hair then let it settle in a dark mass ar
ound my shoulders, grateful once the tension eased.

  Even as tired as I was, I couldn’t stay cooped up inside. After washing my face and changing, I made my way out of my apartment and briskly walked to the area in town by my work.

  Where are you, Ava? I shoved my phone into my pocket after almost colliding with a man staring at his screen. Midday on a Monday in Honolulu meant there were enough people on the sidewalks to make it imperative that I kept my head up rather than spam text Ava to try to get her to meet me for lunch.

  After the argument with my boyfriend, Charles, I needed to talk to her. The week was shaping up to be rather difficult, and I didn’t want to be alone with my thoughts. I couldn’t shake the sense of impending disaster that shadowed my steps despite the sunny day. It was one of those times when I was sure I was cursed. Are there signs that I’m oblivious to?

  A warm, salty breeze tangled my hair in front of my face, and I shoved the dark strands back then picked up my pace to the hardware store that was two buildings away from the Coffee Hut. I could have called the landlord—who could have passed as a hundred years old, rather than his self-proclaimed seventy-five—to fix the broken ceiling-fan chain, but I wanted it done right away, not in a week.

  With a shove, I pushed open the door to the hardware store then slammed into a person who felt more like a brick wall. I stumbled back from the impact. His hand curled around my elbow and steadied me. Pings of awareness shot through me at his touch, and I gasped, pulling my arm away. I glanced up and to meet amiable dark-brown eyes.