by Elise Noble
I didn’t cover my yawn as I stumbled around the kitchen on Thursday morning. Why bother? I was alone apart from Vega, and it was his fault I was so tired. He’d woken me up with his barking in the middle of the night, and then I couldn’t get back to sleep, not when every time I closed my eyes white lilies danced in front of them. Now Vega was whining at the door again, but Luca wasn’t due to arrive for another half hour. And it was definitely an “I’m excited” whine, not an “I need the bathroom” scratch. Even though we’d only been together for a short time, I’d learned there was a difference.
“Oh, now you want to chase squirrels? You’ll have to wait, goof. You’re not allowed.”
Whine.
“Or chipmunks. Come and eat your breakfast, okay?”
I tipped doggie kibble into a bowl and made a mental note to pick up another bag the next time I went to the grocery store. Or I could drive a quarter-mile farther to the feed store and save a buck, plus Hal would carry the bag to my car for me. It wasn’t as if I was short of time. Now that I’d moved back to Baldwin’s Shore, my social life was practically non-existent. Paulo kept trying to get me to go out with him and his friends, but even the thought of trying to keep up with those party animals made me tired. Brooke 1.0 had wanted to be one of those people—you know the kind. They were all over Instagram, drinks in hand, make-up perfect, always smiling and surrounded by friends. The good-time girls. The social butterflies. The Adelines of this world. And when I’d moved to Coos Bay, Addy had welcomed me into her circle and invited me to every event going.
I’d dressed up, gone out, giggled, flirted, and even mastered the perfect smoky eye. But I’d always felt like an impostor. And after the disaster that sent me running back to my childhood home, I’d decided that crochet was more my thing. Paulo’s birthday dinner would be the first time I’d had a lively evening out in months.
While Vega crunched up his breakfast, I taped a baggie of candles to the top of the plastic box containing Paulo’s cake and checked the lid was secure. If I put it in the car now, that would save time when Luca arrived. I felt guilty enough for monopolising his day already, without him waiting around while I made trips backward and forward.
At least the sky was blue this morning. Yesterday had been gloomy and grey, and—
The cake went flying as I tripped over something on the landing outside, the box bump-bump-bumping all the way down the steps to the bottom. Each time plastic hit concrete, it felt like a punch to the chest. Dammit, dammit, dammit! I’d spent hours making that freaking cake. And what had I tripped over? I sure as heck hadn’t left anything in the way.
Frustration turned to fear as I caught sight of the box of chocolates—expensive-looking, tied with a fancy ribbon—and worse, the card stuck to the top. I recognised that writing. Skinny block capitals with a slight slant. One word. BROOKE.
My heart thudded against my ribcage as I tore open the envelope, read the one-line message and saw the cupid’s heart.
NOTHING TASTES AS GOOD AS YOU.
It took a second for the words to sink in. For the horror in their meaning to become clear. That snake had tasted me. His slimy, disgusting tongue had touched my skin, maybe more than my skin, and now he was revelling in my distress. Had he planned this all along? Known when he assaulted me that he’d torment me later?
That sick freak.
And the nightmarish revelations continued, like peeling an onion, if onions were made of molten lava mixed with sulphuric acid. Every layer drew more tears out of me.
There was no postage on the box. No address label. The man who’d given me the worst night of my life had hand-delivered his vile package in the early hours. Had he poisoned the candies? Drugged them? I picked up the box and hurled it as far as I could. It hit the side of Mrs. Crowe’s summer house and split open, spilling the contents everywhere. Vega flinched, and another sob burst out of me because not only had I scared my dog, my protector, but I’d also have to clean up the mess. I hated that man. Hated him. Nonna always said that love and hate were two sides of the same emotion, that you couldn’t have one without the other, but I knew now that she’d lied. Or maybe there were two kinds of hate? Either way, I wanted to douse my stalker in gasoline and roast marshmallows as he burned.
I sank down onto the top step and buried my face in Vega’s fur as he let me hug him for the first time.
“I’m so sorry, goof. You tried to warn me, didn’t you? You knew he was outside.”
Vega just licked my face.
I had a sudden panic that Cupid might still be out there, watching, but as I scrambled to my feet, I realised that Vega was quiet. He’d bark again, wouldn’t he? Like a furry burglar alarm?
Maybe I should install an actual burglar alarm as well? What if I went out with Vega one day and when I came back, Cupid was waiting for me? Should I get a gun? I’d never been keen on them, but now I was beginning to see the attraction.
I needed a hug. I needed my brother. And…and… More lava bubbled up. What did the timing mean? Aaron was on his way to the airport right now. Did my stalker know that? Was he that close? Had he picked this morning to deliver his “gift” knowing that I’d have a tiny window of time in which to decide whether I should ruin my brother’s vacation or handle the problem alone?
He wasn’t just a stalker and a rapist; he was also a sadist.
I wiped my face with my sleeve, ruing the day I’d decided to come back to Baldwin’s Shore. Had my stalker followed me here? Suddenly, the number of new faces in town took on a more sinister meaning. They weren’t only potential friends and customers, they could be the enemy too.
“Hell, what should I do?” I asked, and Vega slurped my face again.
As if in answer, the sound of an engine reminded me that I wasn’t completely alone. My brother’s Toyota rounded the corner with Luca driving, and I sagged in relief. Luca wouldn’t let anybody near me.
Would he?
He was new in town. Kind of.
Dammit, Brooke, have you lost your mind? This was Luca. I’d known him for as long as I’d known my own name. Luca wouldn’t hurt me. But where had he been on March twelfth last year?
Luca unfolded himself from the driver’s side of the Camry, and of course he spotted the spilled candy right away.
“Bad morning?”
“Something like that.”
I couldn’t stop Aaron from going to Cabo. I just couldn’t. Luca or Colt or Deck or Brady would come to my apartment every day, first thing in the morning and last thing at night, and the rest of the time, I could drag the couch in front of the door. Vega would alert me to prowlers, and I’d make sure I slept with the phone in my hand. I’d survive.
Or perhaps I could sleep at the store? The couch in the break room was really comfortable.
“Want me to clean this up?” Luca stopped in front of the remains of the cake. “Ouch. Was that a chocolate sponge?”
I nodded, and another tear trickled down my cheek. “Paulo’s birthday gift. I should throw it in the trash.”
“It’s still edible.”
“It’s ruined.”
“Your cakes always taste great.” Luca climbed the steps two at a time and raised my chin with a finger. “He’s a guy. Trust me, he’ll eat it with a spoon.”
I sobbed out a laugh. When he wasn’t being an asshole, Luca always had a way of making me feel better.
“You really think so?”
“I’ll put it in the trunk.”
He did that while I fixed my face and fetched my purse. The stalker’s card I’d just tucked away in there burned at the faux leather, a reminder of past stupidity and bad decisions. Maybe I should pass it to Colt? He was the sheriff’s deputy in Baldwin’s Shore, after all. But then he’d call my brother, and Aaron would fly back from Cabo, and…
Two weeks. I only had to last for two weeks.
When Aaron came back, I’d tell him everything, and Colt too. In the meantime, I just needed to avoid any situations where my stalker could catc
h me alone. As long as I had Vega by my side, or Darla, or Paulo, or one of the other guys, the freak couldn’t touch me.
Luca carried Vega to the car, and I locked the door to my apartment. Double-checked it was secure. Triple-checked. A touch of paranoia was a healthy thing, right? Given the situation, I mean. The chocolates strewn on the grass by the summer house were a stark reminder of that. I’d have to pick them up later. Should I keep the box? Would the freak have left any fingerprints? Somehow, I couldn’t imagine him doing that. He’d been careful so far. The only traces of him had been the messages he wanted me to see.
“Ready?” Luca asked. “Or do you want to check the door a fourth time?”
“I just don’t want to get burgled.”
“Not being funny, but your lock’s a piece of shit. Any self-respecting burglar would get past it in thirty seconds.”
As if I wasn’t scared enough already. “Thanks, that makes me feel so much better.”
“If you’re worried, I can get a new lock installed. Although you probably need a new door too. The one you have is barely a step up from cardboard.”
Maybe I should book a motel room? In, say, London? Okay, perhaps fleeing the country was slightly drastic, but when it came down to the choice of fight or flight, running like hell won every time. Was the new hotel in Baldwin’s Shore pet-friendly? The Peninsula Resort and Spa had opened a year ago to great fanfare, and although many of the locals despised the place—Addy’s parents called it a blight on the landscape—it had a doorman and a security patrol. I could hide away inside for two weeks. Order room service. Just come out for work and Vega’s bathroom breaks. Oh, and also end up bankrupt because that place was obscenely expensive.
“Do you want me to call someone?” Luca asked.
“Huh?”
“To change your door?”
“How much do you think it would cost?”
Were we talking hundreds? A thousand? It wouldn’t only be the cost of materials but labour as well. And if I put that money into my new apartment at Deals on Wheels, I’d be able to move out faster. Sharing a building with my brother had never looked more attractive.
“The cost doesn’t matter,” Luca said.
“Actually, it does.”
“I’ll pay Deck to do it.”
It was a kind offer, but Luca’s caveman attitude grated, even when he opened the car door for me like a perfect gentleman. Although if I cared to unpack my feelings, which I didn’t, I was probably as annoyed at myself for ending up in this predicament as I was at Luca. Yes, he might have been a little on the alpha side, but he was still too good to be true. Always had been, despite being brought up by an abusive alcoholic who’d done his best to break his son’s spirit.
“You don’t have to do that. I can pay for my own door.”
“Yeah, I know I don’t have to, but I’m still doing it. Deck can take a day away from your brother’s cabinets to make your place safe.”
The way Luca said that… It was almost as if he knew what was going on. He couldn’t… Could he? I glanced across as he started the engine and pulled away, just in time to see him cover his yawn with a hand. He was tired? Why?
He hadn’t been making a nocturnal delivery, had he?
“Late night?”
“Early morning. I had to call some people, and Djibouti’s eleven hours ahead of Oregon.”
“You’re going to Djibouti?”
“It’s a possibility.”
“Is it dangerous?”
“I’m a security contractor. Danger is my middle name.”
“Your middle name is Rey,” I said, then immediately regretted it because Rey was also Luca’s dad’s name, and he hated to be reminded of that awful man. “Seriously, could you get hurt?”
“There’s always a chance I could get hurt. But I’m good at what I do, and I don’t take unnecessary risks. Brooke, I’m not some macho idiot.”
“I know you’re not.” Luca was tough, but nobody could ever describe him as stupid. “Why did you leave the army? I thought you’d signed up for life.”
“So did I in the beginning. But having to fight other people’s battles wears thin after a while, you know? In the army, I couldn’t decline an order, and when the time came to decide whether I wanted to re-enlist, I figured I’d try the private sector instead. At least this way, I can pick and choose which jobs to take.”
“How long ago did you leave the army? I remember Aaron mentioning it early last year.”
Dammit, my mouth was doing its own thing, and now I was going on a fishing expedition. A part of me hated myself for not trusting Luca, but the other part hoped that a definitive answer with regard to his whereabouts in March would rule him out as a suspect once and for all.
“I got out at the end of May.”
“And where were you before that? I mean, did you have a tough assignment?”
“I was stationed in the Middle East for six months.” He cut his gaze sideways for a second. “Kuwait, but you didn’t hear that from me. And all of the assignments were tough.”
“That’s great.” Brooke, you idiot, that might be great for your suspect list, but it sure isn’t great for Luca. “Great that you got a lot of practice at…tough things. And Kuwait’s sunny, right?”
“Right.”
Luca wasn’t smiling. In fact, he looked slightly irritated.
“Sorry, I’m babbling. I’ll stop talking now.”
“Brooke, are you okay?”
“Fine, totally fine. A bit tired.”
“It’s just that there was candy all over your lawn, and you seemed kind of upset when I arrived.”
When in trouble, blame PMS. “Uh, it’s the wrong time of the month? And I don’t like that flavour much.”
“Okaaaaaay. In that case, I’ll stop talking too.”
10
Luca
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Darla check out my ass as I loaded the dog into the car, and I wasn’t saying that to brag. Okay, maybe I was, but I didn’t do two hundred squats every day for nothing. Or a hundred push-ups. Or fifty chin-ups. And women dug the glutes even more than the six-pack.
But when I straightened, Brooke’s boss had disappeared inside, and Paulo had taken her place. He checked out everything. Then licked his lips.
“Do you want some cake? There’s plenty left.”
“The cake Brooke made?”
“Yes, although it’s not so much a cake now as a dessert. It had a tiny accident, so we added strawberries and called it Baldwin’s mess. You know, like Eton mess?”
“Like what?”
“Eton mess. It’s a dessert they eat in England. Smashed-up meringues, strawberries, and cream.”
“Never heard of it, but I wouldn’t say no to a slice.”
“Bowlful.” He turned on his heel and marched inside. “Brooke! Your boyfriend’s here.”
“I’m not—”
“Do you want extra cream? Of course you do. Cream contains calcium, so it’s practically a health food, and those muscles won’t fuel themselves.”
Brooke skidded into the break room, sparkling. Literally sparkling. Red, green, and gold glitter covered her from head to toe. What had she done, rolled in the stuff?
“Paulo, he’s not my boyfriend!” She turned to me, arms out, helpless. Glitter flaked onto the tile. “I’ve told him that a hundred times, but he just won’t listen.”
“But you’d be so perfect together. Look at you—Sleeping Beauty and Prince Charming.”
As if on cue, Brooke yawned. “Aaron would kill me. Luca’s his best friend.”
Not quite right. “Actually, he’d kill me.”
“Yeah, right. He’s a lawyer and you’re a commando.”
Aaron had a mean left hook when the need arose. “I think you underestimate him.”
Paulo pouted. “Aw, c’mon, guys. I crashed and burned last night, so at least let me live vicariously through somebody else. Darla never dates. She’s so boring.”
“I
heard that,” Darla called from the other room. “Go open your Tinder—”
“Grindr.”
“Go open your Grindr and stop harassing Brooke.”
“See? Bor-ing.”
The bickering was all in jest, and it reminded me of my days in the Rangers, although my brothers in arms would have included at least three curses in every sentence. Plus the food was better here. Paulo spooned cake into a bowl, decorated it with not just strawberries but raspberries too, and squirted cream from a can over the whole concoction. The presentation could have used work, but I’d give Brooke ten out of ten for the taste. Vega whined from the car, and she went out to pet him.
“He’s been begging for cake all day, but he’s not allowed any,” Paulo said. “Did you know chocolate’s poisonous for dogs? But Darla bought him a rotisserie chicken for lunch, so there’s no need to call the ASPCA.”
“Should’ve been a dog,” I muttered. Not least because Vega got to go home with Brooke every night. Would he share her bed once his leg recovered? Fuck, I was jealous of a damn mutt.
“Oh, totally. Dogs have my dream life. Sleeping all day, long walks on the beach, eating without putting on weight… Plus you could lick your own balls.”
The cake I’d just forked into my mouth stuck in my throat, and I began coughing. Cake spluttered all over the floor. Paulo thumped me on the back, and he was surprisingly strong for a little guy.
Brooke ran back inside. “What happened? Do you need water?”
“I wouldn’t”—cough—“say no.”
Brooke thrust a glass of water in my direction, and then the cat showed up and tried to eat the cake crumbs. It seemed that chocolate wasn’t good for felines either because Paulo shrieked and carried it through to the store. This place was a damn circus.
“Are you okay?” Brooke asked softly.
“Fine.” Embarrassed because I’d spit cake everywhere, but okay. “I should clear this up.”
“Paulo can do it. I’m sure whatever happened, it was his fault.”
“I heard that,” Paulo shouted.