by Jennie Marts
“Some things never change,” her mother muttered.
Considering the heart-to-heart they’d had the night before, Piper hoped that wasn’t true. But she didn’t have time to think about that right now. Her brain was busy trying to recall a night she’d rather forget.
“We finally made it to the party, and I was right. It was horrible. I didn’t know a single person, and I hated being there. But I do remember the pond with the neat waterfall. I found it when I escaped into the backyard trying to find some fresh air that didn’t smell like smoke or pot or stale beer. I sat by that waterfall for probably half an hour—just thinking and listening to the water. It was the only good thing about that night so far. I was hating life and hating being there.”
“We get the picture, honey. You hated everything,” Edna said.
Piper sighed. “I know. I did. I was miserable and depressed, and I just wanted to go home and back to my room. But I couldn’t find Luna or Dragon, and I didn’t see that other kid either. I figured if they didn’t care where I was, then they wouldn’t notice if I left, so I just took off. I walked all the way home. It took me almost an hour. I remember I cut through the park, and I saw a fox. It had this jacked-up ear—like half of it had been torn off or something. It’s funny, the way your memory works. The details you can recall. I can almost hear the sound of that waterfall, and I can clearly remember seeing that fox with its one messed up ear, but I can’t remember anything about the kid who came with us other than the way he wore his hair and some ink on his arm.”
“The mind does funny things.” Cassie patted her arm.
“That was a great story, kid,” Edna said, “but how does it help us figure out who is after you?”
Piper’s shoulders slumped forward. “It doesn’t, I guess. Maybe we’re looking in completely the wrong direction. We keep looking back at high school, but maybe we need to be looking forward. Maybe the connection has nothing to do with high school and something to do with college.”
“But I thought the only connection you had with those kids was a few weeks in high school,” Claire said.
“That we know of. But maybe there is something we’re missing. The lecture halls here are huge, maybe we had a class together.”
Edna shook her head. “That couldn’t be it, because the first murder happened on your first day of classes. This thing started before you would have had courses with any of them.”
“Maybe something happened over the summer,” Fitz offered. “Did you see any of them this summer? At the lake or up at High Point?” He mentioned two places popular for kids to hang out, especially in the summer. She noticed he didn’t bring up Drew’s name, and she wasn’t sure if that was intentional or not.
“No. I’ve never been to either of those places. I told you I’m not big on going out. I mostly hung out with Drew this summer. And these guys.” She gestured to the women around the table. “They introduced me to the world of fiction, and if I wasn’t working or with Drew then I had my head buried in a book. I spent most of my summer hanging out with a slew of fictional characters. And I’m pretty sure none of them want to kill me.”
She let out a sigh. This whole thing seemed hopeless.
It was like they were trying to put together a puzzle but were missing half the pieces.
“Don’t worry, honey,” Edna said. “We’ll figure it out. I’m going to drop by the police station tomorrow. I’ll take Mac a plate of my cinnamon rolls and see if I can get any new information out of him. We’re not giving up.”
She smiled at the table full of her friends. They might be different ages and come from different backgrounds, but she loved these women. And they loved her. She knew they wouldn’t give up. Especially Edna. When it came to any kind of mystery, that woman was like a Chihuahua with a chew toy—she held on, barking and growling and yapping until she got what she wanted.
Edna might be in her eighties, but her mind was sharp and she loved a good puzzle. Piper just wished she would hurry up and solve this one.
The bell above the door rang and a group of four teenage girls ambled in, their voices ringing with laughter as they approached the counter.
“I got this,” Fitz said, heading for the register. “What can I get you?” he asked the teenagers, eliciting a round of laughter and nervous giggles.
He really was incredibly cute. And apparently, Piper wasn’t the only one who thought so. He had the group of teen girls eating out of his hand.
“I should probably help him,” she told the Page Turners.
“You go ahead,” Cassie said. “We’re just going to sit here and drink our coffee. We don’t want to bother you while you’re working. You won’t even know we’re here.”
She arched an eyebrow at her aunt. “Sure.”
She joined Fitz at the counter and helped him make the teenager’s drinks. She acted tough, but it was nice to have the women there. They thought they were keeping an eye on her, but this way she got to keep an eye on them as well.
Everyone she really cared about was in the coffee shop at this moment—they were all safe, laughing and together. That was enough. For now.
They stayed until the coffee shop closed at eight.
And even then, it took another fifteen minutes after they’d closed to convince the book club to leave. And then Piper wasn’t sure they weren’t going to challenge Fitz to an arm wrestling match to see who got to drive her home.
It seemed her mother was the only one who understood. Surprisingly.
“She’ll be fine with Fitz. It’s a five-minute drive,” Claire said, corralling the other women toward their cars.
“Thanks, Mom,” Piper told her, then ducked her head, avoiding her mother’s eye as she tried to sound nonchalant. “We might take the long way home though.”
She looked up as her mom chuckled and offered her a knowing grin. “I know all about the long way home. Just don’t take too long. I’ll say I’m not going to wait up, but we both know I will.”
It made her happy in an odd way to hear her mom admit to still worrying about her. Granted, it took a serial killer on the loose to get her to say it, but Piper liked it still the same.
Piper waved and called out as she slid into Fitz’s car. “Thanks for showing up for coffee tonight.” And for staying for two hours.
It had been a nice gesture though. And despite her grumpy behavior, she did appreciate all of her ‘moms.’
“I don’t really have a long way to get to your house. It’s like two right turns,” Fitz said.
Okay, so he wasn’t always brilliant.
“Then take a left. Take two lefts. I don’t care. I just wanted a few minutes alone with you.” She gazed at him from under her lashes, blinking out what she hoped was Morse code for ‘I’m just making an excuse because I’d really like to kiss you, you idiot.’
“Ahh.” An impish grin tugged at the corners of his lips, and he put the car in gear and pulled out. “Then I do, in fact, know of a long way home.” The town wasn’t that big, so he didn’t have a lot of choices, but he drove down Main and turned into the city park. He parked in front of the playground, which was deserted this time of night.
He gave her a sideways glance. “Was this what you meant?”
“Almost.” She took his hand from the steering wheel and pulled his arm around her shoulders. Cuddling into him, she said, “This was a little more what I had in mind.”
She giggled at his surprised expression. Heck, as long as she was acting bold, she might as well go for broke. She leaned in and brushed a kiss across his lips.
His arm tightened around her shoulders, drawing her closer as he deepened the kiss. His mouth slanted across hers, and he made this crazy, sexy sound—a cross between a sigh and a growl. She loved it. She loved him.
Wait. What?
Pump the brakes there, sister.
She pulled back, blinking and trying to catch her breath as the enormity of the situation suddenly rammed into her like a Mac truck.
�
��Are you okay?” His eyes looked concerned as he tenderly brushed a tendril of her hair from her cheek. “What’s wrong?”
She shook her head. “Nothing’s wrong. Everything is right. So perfectly right. Too perfect.”
He narrowed his eyes. “How can things be too perfect?”
“You wouldn’t understand.” Ugh. Had she really just said that? She hated when people said that to her.
“Try me.”
“My life isn’t like yours. It’s not normal. I wanted it to be. I thought moving out on my own and getting an apartment, going to college, would be things I could control, that I could finally be in charge of my life. That things could finally be good. But apparently, that’s not the kind of life that I’m supposed to get.”
“What are you talking about? What kind of life do you think you’re supposed to get?”
“Not a good one. Not one like this. With someone like you.”
He shook his head. “Why not?”
“Because things like this, like you, don’t get too happen for me. Wait, that’s not true. They do happen. They just don’t last. I’ve had perfect. I had a perfect family with this great mom and dad, and we were so happy, then my dad was ripped from our lives by a stupid drunk driver and a motorcycle crash. That crash killed my dad, but it took my mom away from me too. Then, after she dumped me at Cassie’s, I didn’t think I could ever be happy again, but I was. Matt and Cass made me part of their family, and I met this cute guy and graduated and had plans to go to college, then that all got snatched away too when I didn’t get into the school I wanted and that cute guy broke my heart. But I moved out anyway and thought getting my own apartment and making my own decisions would make me happy. Then my roommate got murdered, and my new roommate turned out to be my crazy mother.”
“Piper, that’s just how life works.”
“Is it? Is that how your life works? Are both of your parents still alive?”
“Well, yes. But I’ve had hard things happen too.”
She arched an eyebrow at him.
“Okay, maybe not to the same extreme, but still, my life isn’t perfect. Nobody’s life is perfect, at least not all the time.”
“I get glimpses of it—can almost touch it. I can see how things could be perfect. And despite the fact that someone is trying to kill me, I can feel those glimmers of hope happening inside of my heart now. I had this great talk with my mom the other night, and I think we have a chance at figuring our mess out and having a real relationship. And I met this amazing guy, he’s cute and funny and smart, brilliant even, and I really, really like him.”
Fitz’s grin came back, and he picked up her hand and linked her fingers with his. “That guy really, really likes you too.”
She pulled her hand away and wrapped her arms around her stomach, holding herself together and digging her fingers into her skin. “That’s the perfect part,” she whispered. “You. You’re perfect. Being here with you, kissing you, getting to touch you, that’s all perfect.”
“It isn’t that perfect. We’re still in my car in the deserted parking lot of a city park,” he teased.
But she wasn’t joking around. “I’m serious. I like you, Fitz. So, so much. And the fact that you like me blows my mind. But I think we’re a good fit, and I can actually see us together. See us being happy.”
“That sounds like a good thing.”
“No, it’s not, because that’s when things go wrong. As soon as I start to feel happy, that’s when my life falls apart, when my heart gets broken, or when someone gets hurt.” A hard lump of emotion burned her throat. “I don’t know if I can take it if anything happens to you.”
He pulled her across the console and into his lap. Cupping her cheek in his hand, he stared into her eyes. “Nothing is going to happen to me. You’re not cursed. You’ve gone through some rough stuff—I get that. And I’m so sorry those things happened to you. Losing a parent isn’t something any kid should go through. But it doesn’t mean you’re doomed to a life of grief and that every time something good happens, it will be taken away. Some of that stuff is just life. We all get our hearts broken, all have disappointments and things happen we didn’t expect. Sometimes that just means something better is going to happen instead.”
She wanted to believe him. Wanted to believe him with all her heart.
But the fear of history repeating itself, of the pattern of her life tearing this remarkable guy away, was too much to bear. “I don’t know. The stuff that happens to me isn’t normal—isn’t everyday kind of bad stuff. People die. Someone is trying to kill me, has already tried once. And now I’ve got you mixed up in this bizarre mess. And what if something does happen to you?”
“Nothing is going to happen to me. The police are going to find this guy and it’s going to be over, and I’ll still be here. I’m not going anywhere. I like you, Piper. You didn’t get me mixed up in anything. I want to be here. I want to be with you.”
“I want to be with you, too,” she said, her voice low as she pressed her forehead against his. “It’s just hard for me to trust people. Trust that I won’t get hurt.”
“You’ve got to trust someone. Can’t you start with me?”
“Yes. I want to,” she whispered. “I’m just scared.”
“I know. It’s okay to be scared. But don’t let it paralyze you. Don’t let the fear of what could happen to you keep you from letting anything happen to you. Fear is something you meet and then walk through. You have to face it to get to the other side. And fear is temporary, but regret lasts forever. We’re way too young to start filling our lives with regret. Fear is just a word. So is strength. And courage. And guts. And you’re one of the gutsiest chicks I know. So, stand up, kick fear in the throat, and fight for what you want. Grab it and don’t let go. Don’t let anyone else take your happiness from you.”
Wow. She let out a shuddering breath and swiped at the lone tear trickling down her cheek. “Kick fear in the throat, huh?”
He grinned and nodded. “Right in the freaking throat.”
She laughed. A soft laugh, but a laugh just the same. “You must think I’m crazy. All this talk of hanging on to you and us being together. We haven’t even been out on a real date.”
“So what? We’ve known each other and worked together for months. And just because I finally kissed you for the first time last night doesn’t mean that I haven’t liked you, and haven’t been thinking about kissing you, for a long time.” He stared at her mouth as he ran his thumb softly along her bottom lip.
A quiver of heat tingled down her spine, and she melted into him. “I’m thinking about kissing you right now,” she whispered.
“Stop thinking about it and do it,” he whispered back, his voice husky.
She leaned in, brushed a kiss tenderly against his lips. “No regrets.”
“No regrets,” he murmured against her lips, but it wasn’t her ears that heard him—it was her heart.
He kissed her again, fully on the mouth, stealing her breath and sending warmth swirling through her chest—warmth and a feeling of finally being right where she was supposed to be. Like she had been waiting for this man her entire life, and here he was. Finally.
And here she was. Finally, right where she belonged.
Wrapping her arms around his neck, she tilted her head and gave in to the delicious torture of want and ache and need. She squirmed in his lap, pressing her chest to his and falling into the blissful oblivion of his kisses.
The rest of the world fell away. All that mattered was this moment, this man whose fingers were caressing her shoulders, her back. His hand slipped under her jacket and inside the back of her shirt, and she shivered as his fingertips skimmed along her spine.
She buried her head in his shoulder, kissing his neck and inhaling the scent of him—the musky tones of his aftershave mixed with a trace of French roast. She would never be able to drink coffee again without thinking about the way his neck smelled, the way his skin tasted.
He la
id a hot trail of kisses down her neck then along her collarbone. His touch was like heaven, and she closed her eyes and tipped her head back, a soft moan escaping her lips.
Her moan turned into a scream as she opened her eyes and gazed into the black-hooded face of a man wearing a ski mask and staring into the window of the car as his hand reached for the handle of the door.
“Get away from us,” Piper screamed, hammering the window with her hand.
The hooded figure took off, sprinting across the park as Fitz dumped her out of his lap and scrambled to open the door.
She clutched at his jacket, her heart pounding hard against her chest. “What are you doing?”
He pulled his arm back. “I’m going after the guy. What if it was him?”
“Then he didn’t hurt us. But you can’t go after him. Please, Fitz. Just let him go,” Piper pleaded.
“This might be my chance to catch the guy,” he said, trying to untangle his sleeve from her fingers. “I have to go after him.”
“No, please. Don’t. Let’s just drive away.”
He stared into the inky darkness of the trees behind the playground equipment, his breath coming in hard gasps, adrenaline obviously pumping through his veins, as he searched for the hooded figure. He sighed and slumped back into the driver’s seat. “He’s gone anyway.”
Piper leaned over him and pulled his door shut, then pressed the lock button before crumpling back into her seat.
She couldn’t seem to catch her breath, and her knuckles were white as she gripped the dashboard. “I think I’m going to puke,” she gasped.
“Put your head between your knees,” he instructed, turning the key in the ignition and putting the car in gear. “I’ll get us out of here.”
She did as he said, folding her body over and hugging her knees as she tried to slow her breathing.
He rubbed her back as he drove. “Just take some deep breaths.”
“I’m okay.” She sat up, trying to convince herself she really was okay as she brushed her hair back from her damp forehead.
Fitz drove them out of the dark park and into the well-lit parking lot of a grocery store. He cut the engine and pulled her into a hug. “Holy shit. That scared the crap out of me. My heart is still racing.”