Twisted Secrets

by Amy McKinley

  I shifted in bed late Thursday night with the sheet tangled around my legs, and the cool breeze from the overhead fan couldn’t keep the nightmares at bay. Sinking further into the memory of my past, the slow paddle above me from the fan faded, replaced by Mom’s frantic eyes and quivering voice. As she invaded my sleep-laden mind, I was suddenly seven years old again and experiencing the catalyst for my recurring nightmare.

  At the kitchen table, I chewed my peanut-butter-and-strawberry-jelly sandwich as quietly as possible. They were arguing about “never wanting this,” whatever that meant. Dad’s voice boomed from the next room so loudly that I looked over my shoulder to make sure he wasn’t standing behind me. A shiver racked through me, causing my arm to bump the plate.

  The shouting stopped. Mom rushed in. She bent over me. Her fingers bit into my shoulders, and I clamped my teeth on my lower lip to keep from making any noise. With my eyes as wide as they would go, I peered around her to make sure Dad was in the other room. He was. I felt sick. Those lines around Mom’s mouth made me uneasy, as did Dad’s loud voice when he yelled for her.

  “I want you to go out and play, sweetie. Okay?”

  Her voice sounded weird, so I nodded. I didn’t want to go outside. It was cold. But saying no would get me in trouble. I let her help me get dressed.

  A hat was shoved onto my head, and she settled my coat around my shoulders, hastily zipped it, then hurried me to the back door. My boots were there, and she bent to help me put them on. We didn’t say anything. Fear kept my lips pinched. I didn’t want to make a sound. If I did, he would come into the kitchen. When he was mad, he was scary—not like when we watched princess movies together. I liked those times best.

  Mom squeezed me tightly then released me and opened the back door. “Go on, sweetie. To the swings, baby girl.” She glanced behind her then turned wide eyes back to me. “Only come in for me. I’ll call you in later, m’kay?”

  I stepped out into the chilly air, grass crunching beneath my boots. The door shut, and I looked over my shoulder, hoping to see Mom in the window, but she was gone.

  I didn’t go far, not right away. We had an old brown swing set that was wasn’t like the one at the playground. Ours creaked and only had two swings. I had to wear my mittens to hold onto the chains without getting scratched.

  The shouting inside grew louder. Dad yelled for me to get into the house. My steps halted, and I held my breath. A loud crash sounded like when I accidentally dropped a glass once.

  I didn’t know why Dad was so mad. He got that way sometimes. But this time, all the hair on my arms and neck stood up like it did when there was a bad storm. I didn’t like it or know what to do.

  Shuffling my feet, I kicked at a frozen tuft of grass for a little while. When the sounds inside didn’t get quieter, I moved toward the swings. Tears rolled down my cheeks, burning a little when the wind picked up.

  Last time, Mom had made me wait outside until Daddy was asleep on the couch with empty cans of beer around him. I knew what it was because he told me to get them for him out of the fridge lots of times. I’d had to stay out for so long that time.

  Mom said the drinks either made him crazy or sleepy. I wanted sleepy, and I bet she did too. When they fought before, it hadn’t been as cold. I hoped he went to sleep soon.

  The freezing plastic seat of the swing bit into my legs as I sat there, twisting this way and that. Maybe if I went in and got him some more of the cans he liked, it might help. I half stood then froze, remembering that once when I’d done that, he’d pushed me. I didn’t feel so good after that, and Mom had cried harder. I would stay outside.

  I curled my hand around the chain, leaning against it, waiting. The wind was at my back, pushing my long hair over my shoulders. I wiped under my nose with my mitten and hoped my mom would come to the door and wave me in.

  It was so cold. I shivered. The neighbors had a playhouse at the top of their swing set, and there wasn’t a fence blocking me. I crossed to their yard and climbed inside.

  I woke with a scream lodged in my throat and my skin slick with sweat. The dreams were back. No, not dreams. Nightmares. Goddamn you, Charles!

  Several seconds passed while I regulated my breathing, grateful the flashback ended when and where it had. But I knew it would progressively get worse, and the rest would invade my mind with shocking clarity.

  With shaky fingers, I untangled the sheet from my legs then swung them over the bed’s side. I had to get up and watch TV or read for a while until the past receded.

  Minutes or hours later—I couldn’t be sure—I crawled back in bed, exhausted. The memories had faded, and Charles occupied my thoughts.

  Friday morning, my mind still reeled from the nightmare, and I couldn’t stop worrying that Charles would do something stupid—he’d looked so angry on Wednesday.

  I was in dire need of meeting Ava for lunch and having some girl time.

  I checked to be sure that my iPad was in my bag before swinging it over my shoulder. Locking the door to my apartment behind me, I shoved the anxiety away over how personal the two break-ins and that attack on the street felt. I needed to remember to call the police to see if there had been any progress with the investigation, but not yet. Jaxon had promised to get to the bottom of it, and I had to let it go and trust him. Otherwise, even more of the benefits from years of intense counseling would go down the drain.

  The walk downtown did me some good, and my mood had lifted by the time I arrived at the café. As soon as Ava spotted me, she grinned and waved me over.

  I sat across from her and leaned back against my chair, surveying her. She looked as she always did, perfectly put together. But then her bright-blue eyes flashed something that resembled concern as her smile fell away.

  I wasn’t ready to talk about everything yet and yanked my iPad from my bag, pasting a wide smile on my face. “I have your pictures.”

  “Oh! Let me see.” Ava leaned forward, her hand extended.

  I pulled the first one up and handed it over, glad she was effectively distracted, at least for a while. The waiter stopped by, and I ordered an iced tea—I’d decided to cut down on my coffee consumption, which was hard, given my job.

  I nibbled on my lip for a second, hoping she would like them. I had my doubts, though. Something was off. They hadn’t turned out how I’d hoped.

  “I love them.” Ava sighed, lifting her gaze to mine. “These are so much better than my current ones. Can you send them to me?”

  “Absolutely.” I had them ready on my phone just in case, and after a few taps, hers chimed. “They’re in your inbox.”

  “I want to pay you for them.”

  “Sure. Buy me lunch.” I thanked the waiter as he dropped my tea off, and we placed our orders while we had him there.

  “That’s not enough.”

  “You’re my friend. I’m not charging you.” I changed the subject because I wasn’t up for arguing. “How was your trip?”

  “So good. I received a lot of interest, and my agent is speaking to a few publishers already. Not only that, but I picked up another new client to get their employee manuals and technical procedures written. Going to lunch is keeping me from refreshing my email every second.”

  “Congratulations! I’m happy for you.”

  “Thanks.” Ava leaned back, her gaze narrowing. “Now, tell me what happened while I was gone. How are you doing after finding out that Charles is married?”

  A Koa butterfly fluttered by then landed on a nearby flower. The underside of its turquoise wings was visible until it fanned them out and took flight. The iridescent blue on the top of its wings sparkled in the sunlight. They were beautiful butterflies, and I had loads of pictures of them already.

  “Better. It’s still hard to believe.”

  “Are you going to find her, tell her about his affair?”

  “No.” I was horrified at even the thought of talking to his wife. “What if my telling her causes them to get a divorce?”

&nb
sp; Ava grimaced. “I’ll never leave my husband.” She took a bite of her salad. “I won’t let him leave me, either.”

  I spooned some soup into my mouth, contemplating her response. “I don’t think I could trust my husband again if I found out he’d cheated. So no, I won’t contact his wife. If she’s aware of his infidelity, it would be like rubbing salt in the wound.”

  “I’m truly sorry.”

  With a shrug, I exchanged my spoon for the half sandwich. “It’s over. I haven’t made up my mind, but I may move after graduation.”

  Her brows furrowed. “To another apartment or out of Hawaii?”

  “I’m for sure moving out of my apartment. As for staying in Hawaii, that’s what I haven’t decided yet.”

  “It’ll work out.” She reached across the table and squeezed my hand. “Why don’t you stay at my place until you make that decision? At least there, you wouldn’t have to worry about anyone breaking in.”

  “I appreciate it—you know I do—but I’m going to stay where I’m at.” I didn’t want to be a third wheel.

  “On another note, I have to fly out again for about a week.”

  “What? You just got back.” I scrunched my nose. “You were going to have me stay at your place, and you wouldn’t even be there?”

  Ava flashed a dazzling smile. “You can still do that, or you can fly out with me. I have a suite. There’s plenty of room.”

  I shook my head. “I’ll be fine. Promise. But thank you for the offer.”

  She squeezed my hand across the table. “You can change your mind about either offer any time, and we’ll make it work.”

  The waiter appeared, and she took the bill from him, making him wait while she dug cash out to pay for it. “Back to why I’m leaving again so soon. My agent wants to take advantage of all the positive interest from the last conference. I was able to schedule a meeting with that new client I just told you about, but I’m hesitant to leave you alone after everything that’s happened. I’ll call and check on you to make sure everything is okay. And you do the same. Deal?”

  I reluctantly agreed. Between her career, my graduate project, working at the Coffee Hut, and dating Xander, we hadn’t had a lot of time to hang out. I missed her.

  The walk home was uneventful and relaxing. I got my mail and discovered a package. Once inside, I opened it and found the book I’d ordered, The Spider’s Prey, by Ava’s favorite author.

  I got settled on the lanai and traced my fingers over the raised silver spiderweb set against an orange background. The tagline was what had snagged my attention after the cover: He’s mine—until death. With a few hours until I planned to work on editing photos, I started reading and was hooked from the very first line: “John held my hands in his as I repeated our wedding vows, a promise I would fulfill until the very end.”

  18

  Riley

  Saturday afternoon, the click of the shutter vied for sonic dominance over the waves breaking against the sandy shoreline on Xander’s family’s private island. Xander walked out of the ocean like a mythological god with that mesmerizing, lethal sensuality that my camera and I loved. A lazy grin stretched across his face, beads of water clung to his tempting sun-kissed skin, and my stomach clenched with need.

  Fighting the urge to throw myself at his sexy-as-hell body, I kept the lens trained on him for a few minutes longer even after he sat on the towel beside me, looped his arms over bent knees, then angled his head, his gaze meeting mine through the equipment’s barrier. God, he was gorgeous, and the camera loved him. The scary thing was, I could see myself doing the same.

  So many times, my mind drifted to all the times he’d kissed me. I hoped he would again. I blinked behind the lens and gave myself a mental shake back to the present.

  “You don’t mind, do you?” I lowered the camera. The urge to immortalize him through pictures had been too great when he emerged from the waves.

  He shook his head. I snapped a few more then scrolled through them, checking to see how they turned out. Zooming in on a few, even briefly, I could tell that the impression he’d given me from the start shone through in the frames. There was nothing sinister lurking in his emotions or body language.

  It was silly that I relied on viewing the world through the camera lens to glean insight, but things were clearer to me that way. With my history, I didn’t fully trust my instincts when it came to relationships.

  “Tell me more about your brothers.”

  “Not much to tell. What exactly did you want to know?”

  I wanted to learn more about him. “Are they like you?”

  “Well, you met Jaxon. I would say he’s a bit of a know-it-all.” He grinned. “He would say that’s because he’s older and wiser.”

  I shaded my eyes, mirroring his pose with my other arm looped around my bent legs. “You don’t get along, then?”

  “We do. The police thing is weird, but Jaxon was master-at-arms early in his Navy career before joining the SEALs. Now, I think he’s in limbo. He was injured and received an honorable discharge. And this police stuff is a test to see if it’s the career he wants going forward. So far, he’s not convinced. Part of the reason I’m fixing the cabins is that he’s thinking of moving to our island and selling his condo.”

  “And you?” There were four cabins. I assumed one was for their parents. It made sense.

  “I’m selling my condo, so yeah. Tyler will, too, or that’s the plan, anyway.”

  I looked behind me at the houses, which were set back from the beach and surrounded by mature palm trees. They weren’t precisely cabins. On the outside, they looked basic enough but with very cool upper and lower decks and lanais on the bottoms. They were large, and at least one of the houses looked like it had a hot tub on the lower deck. Inside, the spaces were much larger and more luxurious than they appeared.

  “What will you do when you move here?” I could imagine living on a private island. It was an introvert’s fantasy. “Oh, wait. You’re in the military.”

  “For now.” His expression turned pensive, and he hesitated for a moment. “My contract is up for renewal soon, and I haven’t decided what to do. Which is weird because I thought I would stay in until retirement, like our dad.”

  I dug my heels back and forth in the sand. “What will you do if you don’t re-enlist? Or whatever it’s called.”

  He smiled. “For now, Jaxon and I are toying with building a workshop here to make custom surfboards.”

  That was going to be a significant change from the excitement he probably experienced as a SEAL. “Won’t you miss the action?” Given the great shape he was in, I had a hard time seeing him content with island life.

  “I won’t give it up completely. Jaxon has a buddy who works in private security contracting, mainly rescue and recovery. I’ve met the guys and like them. We’ll take jobs here and there when Jack or anyone else from Gray Ghost Securities needs extra bodies.”

  “So it’ll be similar to what you do now?”

  “Pretty much. They’re mostly former SEALs too. But I haven’t made a decision one way or the other. It’ll be there when I do.” He leaned over and tucked a piece of long hair that’d come loose from my bun behind my ear.

  At his touch, all thoughts scattered. Heat followed in the wake of his fingers as he trailed them along my cheek. My eyelids were heavy, and my breath hitched. As he shifted and cupped the back of my neck, applying gentle pressure, my gaze dropped to his lips. He met me halfway. I melted against his well-defined chest, my hand clinging to his shoulder as his mouth moved hungrily against mine.

  A breathy moan escaped my lips when he shifted and hooked a hand under my thigh, lifting me to straddle him. My knees settled on either side of his hips, and my bikini-clad breasts brushed against his chest. His hand skimmed my thigh, moving higher, leaving goose bumps in its wake. I arched against him, and my hair tumbled down my back.

  He gripped my waist, and a growl rumbled his throat, spurring my need to touch him, to explo
re the ridges and valleys of his muscles. He pulled me close, and I skimmed my fingertips over taut pecs and broad shoulders then threaded my fingers through his short hair. I altered the angle of the kiss and ground against the long, swollen length I felt at the apex of my thighs.

  When his hand found my breast and rolled the peak, I hissed in pleasure, putty in his hands. He deepened the kiss, holding me tightly against him so I couldn’t increase the heady friction by rocking my hips against him.

  The tempo of the kiss changed, and the frantic, burning heat eased to smoldering until he broke the connection between our lips. We worked to catch our breath, and I mourned the loss of his mouth on mine. It took several minutes until we gained a semblance of control.

  The shock of what could have happened and how far I would’ve let him go was what brought me back to reality. The rhythmic ebb and flow of the waves breaking against the shore and the intoxicating scent of hibiscus and coconut filtered back.

  It wasn’t like me to sleep with someone so soon or even to let passion take me away to the extent it had. But with him, I had very little restraint. All it took was a look or one touch of his hand, and I was lost. That thought should have terrified me, but oddly enough, it didn’t.

  The sun had dropped below the horizon an hour before, and I couldn’t stop thinking about being with Xander earlier. I lay on my stomach on my bed, the cell phone pressed against my ear as Ava worked to pry every detail from me about my day with Xander.

  “That was it? You only kissed?” Ava harped. “You were on a private island, for Christ’s sake.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. “He was the one to pull back. I’d lost all rational thought. Which was weird.”

  “What’s weird about that? You have seen him, right? Or do you need glasses?” She snorted. “No woman would stand a chance against a drool-worthy hunk like him.”

  “You’re married, right?”

  “Married but not blind.” Ava snickered. “I can fantasize virtually through you. Now, give me some better details.”