I nod, realising it’s something I should at least pretend to think about. It’s not as if I have the money to just leave and do whatever I want. The house and bar have to sell. If they don’t I’m kind of stuck here anyway. “Go on.”
“Okay, so you have five hundred thousand in the trust...”
“Excuse me?” I ask, raising my eyebrows.
He laughs, a little nervously. “It’s a considerable sum of money.”
“How the hell did my parents get it?”
“I don’t have those kinds of details,” he tells me, taking my question literally. “But there are forms to be signed that go along with whatever option you decide to take.”
“What kind of forms?”
“If you chose not to stay for the year and run the pub, you need to sign a waiver that releases the trust fund to the local council of Widow’s Walk. If you chose to stay, you need to sign a notice of intent. Your year begins from the date the notice is signed. If you decide to leave town before the year is up, or to sell the pub or just not run it, you’ll forfeit the money and it’ll revert to the local council.”
I can tell he’s making an effort not to bog me down in legalese. It’s pretty simple. I spend a year in the nightmare I ran away from the second I was old enough and I get enough money to do whatever the hell I want after wards, or I split and probably make ten percent of that from the sale of the house whenever it eventually sells. Meanwhile, I’m draining the tiny amount of savings I do have.
“You’re serious that the year begins from when the notice of intent is signed?”
He nods. “I can leave the forms with you...”
I shake my head. What’s the worst that could happen? If I change my mind I forfeit the money later. Same outcome as option number one. At least if I sign it now the countdown begins.
“If you have the forms with you, I’ll sign the notice of intent now.”
He looks surprised, but gets the form. I look it over, pretending I’m reading it. I don’t have a clue what half of it even means. There doesn’t look to be anything dodgy with it. Still, I hesitate.
“Anything else happen if I wind up forfeiting the money?” I ask, trying to make sure I cover everything. I know Harold was flaky, but this guy’s a total stranger. I have no idea if he has my best interests at heart. “Like if I don’t stay I’m in breach of contract and I could go to jail or something?”
He shakes his head, and points out a few statements on the form. “No, literally all that will happen is the trust fund will release to the town’s council for regeneration.”
Like they could do that in this place. It would be like trying to make a zombie from butchered body parts and being surprised when it turns out to be a hideous abomination.
“Here goes nothing,” I mutter as I sign the form.
I’m probably going to regret this later, but right now all I can see is a new start.
One year. How hard could that possibly be?
The third hot guy I see today gets me at my best. Fully made up and sort of regretting the decision not to wear my sexy undies. He looks even hotter in daylight. I’m forced to remind myself that I’m not really here for a date. It’s going to be damn hard to keep that in mind the longer I spend around him.
“You seriously want to have lunch here?” He asks, moving back from the wall beside the door where he was leaning looking like something out of an aftershave advert.
“Do you see anywhere else around here where we could possibly eat?”
He frowns, before yanking the door open for me.
Total arsehole. Why is that so damn hot?
I step inside and smile at the girl behind the counter. I don’t recognise her. Must be one of the owner’s kids. There’s no other reason for someone her age to be working in a cafe in the middle of nowhere. She approaches with a smile for me, and a slightly wary glance at the man behind me.
“Hi, can I get you a table?”
I nod. “That would be lovely, thanks.”
She shows us to a table at the back of the small room, and he actually pulls out my chair for me. I sit down and he sits. The girl takes out a note pad.
“Can I get you any drinks?”
“Sure,” I say. “Some iced tea would be great.”
She nods, writes it down and turns to my gentleman friend.
“Coffee, black,” he orders, his voice a little gruff.
She nods again. “I’ll be right back.”
I watch her leave before turning to him. “So you clearly don’t want to be here,” I start, before he cuts me off.
“I don’t like this town,” he says, picking at a frayed patch of the table cloth.
“Well then we have that in common at least.”
He gazes at me thoughtfully. “You don’t like it here?”
“There’s a reason I left ten years ago and never looked back.”
He’s quiet for a moment, before he speaks again. “I feel like everyone’s watching me. Like they’re suspicious or something. It’s pissing me off.”
I laugh. I have to. He scowls at me for it.
“Hey, come on. You have to admit you have a way of making an impression.”
He stares a little and I feel butterflies swirling in my stomach. If he makes a move, I won’t be able to say no. He’s too damn sexy. Ugh. Coming on this lunch was a mistake. Talk about curiosity killing the cat. My pussy is not going to survive this prick.
“And what impression am I making on you, Maggie?” he asks, something a little sly in his tone, as if he knows exactly what I’m thinking right now.
“I’m not sure,” I tell him, keeping my tone breezy. “You have this kind of creepy arsehole vibe going on. The model good looks don’t really make up for it.”
The waitress returns and I take a sip of my iced tea while she puts his cup down, her hand shaking lightly. The coffee sloshes over the rim as it goes down. She apologises as she swipes at it with a napkin.
“It’s fine,” he tells her, as if he’s pissed that she’s making a fuss.
She moves away mumbling more apologies as she retreats.
He cleans the mess with another couple of napkins from the dispenser in the middle of the table.
I sip at my drink and wait for him to start explaining himself. I mean, he wanted something from me when he came to the bar. Damned if I know what, but he was definitely looking for something.
“So what are you doing in this town you hate?” I ask, as he picks up his mug.
He drinks to avoid answering. His eyes get a little shifty. His gorgeous, golden-looking eyes.
“Business or pleasure?” I ask, trying to glean some clue from his expression, if nothing else.
He puts the mug down and stares at the table for a few long seconds before he decides to speak.
“Do you ever wish you knew what your fate was meant to be?”
“Em, what?” I ask.
He sighs, rubbing at his jaw. “There’s no easy way to put this.”
“So put it the hard way. Just spit it out.”
He hesitates. “You won’t understand.”
“How the hell do you know? You barely know me.” Cheeky shite.
“Fine,” he snaps, keeping my gaze, and covering my left hand with his right. “My... family have a tradition. We believe in soul mates. That there’s someone out there for everyone. Someone they’re destined to be with for the rest of their lives.”
“O-Kay,” I say, kind of stunned by the turn this conversation is taking.
He’s really not the vulnerable sort but it feels like that’s what he’s being right now. Vulnerable. Opening up in a way that leaves him open to ridicule.
I mean I can’t take it seriously, but how the hell am I supposed to take it?
“You’re that person for me. It was revealed to me recently. So I came here to meet you.”
I don’t even know where to begin. I open my mouth, close it again, sip my tea and blow out a breath.
“So...” I st
art, trailing off when too many questions try to jump out my mouth at the same time.
He’s crazy, is what it boils down to. I mean, it has to, right? Strange men don’t just psychically seek out soul mates or whatever. Unless they’re psycho and looking for a murder victim, I guess. That’s probably the only scenario in which this kind of bullshit flies.
“I know it sounds weird,” he tells me, just as the waitress comes back.
“Ready to order?” she asks, a hopeful expression on her face.
“No,” he starts.
“Yes,” I swoop in. “We’ll have two full English breakfasts. Put extra sausages in his.”
She nods and swiftly moves away to put the order in to the kitchen. He gives me a bemused look.
“Did you want me to stay, or not?” I ask, raising my eyebrows.
“You don’t think I’m a nutjob?” he asks, clearly not believing my reaction.
“I didn’t say that,” I tell him. “But a girl’s gotta eat.”
He snorts, shaking his head at me. “You’re nothing like I expected.”
“What did you expect?”
“I don’t know. Someone boring,” he admits, sipping his coffee.
“Do my ears deceive me or was that a compliment I just heard?” I ask, ignoring the fact that he’s here because he thinks I’m his destiny. He’s hot and I’m stuck in this dull as dishwater town for at least a year now. If I can have some fun while I’m here, I’m damn well going to.
“I didn’t really believe in the whole soul mates thing,” he tells me. “Most people in our community don’t, when they’re younger at least. Everyone who’s found theirs preaches it like it’s gospel, but until you’re ready for it, you just don’t really get it.”
“Your community?” I ask, wondering what he’s talking about.
He sips on his coffee again and I realize he’s using that as a delaying tactic. He doesn’t like my questions. He’s holding something back. Something weirder than what he’s already told me?
“Are you a gypsy?” I ask, not able to remember a more PC term for it. Is it traveller? Wanderer? Man of the land?
He looks at me for a few seconds before he nods. “Our family believes in a lot of stuff that most people call superstitious nonsense.”
I relax a little. I mean I’m still weirded out by the whole coming here to find me thing. “So how come I get to be the lucky girl?”
He shrugs. “It was seen in a vision. The girl no-one believed from Widow’s Walk was named as my soul mate. It didn’t take long to find that girl. Everyone around here knows who you are.”
Okay. That’s totally random, but it also feels less freaky with the added explanation. “So you weren’t told Maggie O’Brien was your soul mate? Just that a girl from this town who no-one believed?”
He nods. “That’s how I knew where to look.”
Okay, so it’s kind of bizarre.
It could be worse.
“But then Baz and Theo were told the same thing. So we came out here to find you and you accepted Theo’s rings.” He frowns at this, looking at the rings on my finger.
“Hold up. You two bastards came from the same place?”
He hesitates before he nods. “He told me he’d claim you first, that you’d accept his rings and that I might as well not bother coming out here.”
“He tricked me into putting them on,” I tell him, making sure not to add that his trick was fuelled by my own lies.
“You weren’t impressed by his trick?” He sounds a little worried.
“Not really. I’m kind of pissed that I can’t get these off to be perfectly honest,” I tell him, keeping my mouth shut about the kiss. It’s not like that guy asked me out. This one did. So he gets my vote right at this moment. Wait a second... “Did you say there was a third guy?”
“Yeah, three of us were told the same thing, but Baz didn’t want to believe it. He told us we could come fight over you if we wanted, that he wouldn’t throw his hat in the ring.”
Okay. Two hotties fighting over me is more than enough besides.
“So what exactly does being soul mates entail?” I ask, wondering how soon is too soon to jump into bed with this guy I just met. Is the third date rule still a thing? Damn. It’s been so long since I dated anyone that I have no freaking idea.
“You’re supposed to fall so deeply in love that the thought of being apart kills you inside.”
“Sounds super romantic.” Kind of like Romeo and Juliet, if you can even call two hormonal teenagers acting like a pair of nutters romantic.
“It is,” he tells me, smiling wryly.
Our breakfasts arrive and my stomach reminds me I haven’t eaten yet today. I take my time with the cafe’s best loved meal, savouring every bite as I watch Lukas and try to make up my mind about him. I like him. He’s hot. Those are the positives. I can ignore the weird shit. For now. We’ll see how it goes.
We don’t get the chance to kiss at the end of our date. Too bad. I was looking forward to comparing it to the kiss his trickster friend planted on me in that shop.
Unfortunately said trickster decides to crash our date when it comes to the walk home.
“Hey, Maggie,” Theo says, cutting between us and putting his arm around my waist.
“Hey, nothing,” I tell him, shooting him a glare.
“What did I do?” he asks, feigning hurt feelings. I know when guys fake these things, even when they’re well practiced at it. Takes a liar to know a liar, I guess.
“You tricked me into wearing your rings,” I tell him. “And now I can’t get the damned things off.”
“That’s because it’s meant to be. You can’t fight fate, Maggie. It’s sealed.”
I roll my eyes at him. “Well I don’t appreciate being tricked like that and you weren’t invited on this date so you can leave now.”
“This isn’t a date,” he tells me, smirking over at Lukas. “No one dates this guy.”
“Leave, Theo. You’re not welcome.” Lukas pipes up, finally.
I glance his way and he looks properly pissed. I guess these guys really aren’t friends.
“Maggie can decide if I’m welcome, Lukas.” He gazes at me. “So what’ll it be, Mags? One gentleman caller, or two at a time?”
His gaze becomes heated and I feel my face flush. An image of the two of them touching me possessively both at once flashes through my head.
“She’s on a date with me,” Lukas insists.
Theo doesn’t pay attention. He just stares directly at me. Then he leans in, “Maybe you should try us both out, Maggie. Find out which you prefer before you choose. Or don’t choose. I’m easy either way.”
Holy hell in a handbasket. These guys were sent to tempt me to the bad place.
“Are you demons?” I ask, making Theo laugh as he steps back. “No, honestly, because this thing’s weird enough as it is. I actually wouldn’t be surprised if you were demons at this point.”
I glance at Blondie. He smiles tightly and shakes his head.
“Not demons,” he tells me, shrugging. His gaze locks with Theo for a second and something unspoken passes between them. They might not be hellspawn but they are definitely hiding something, and I’m going to find out what it is even if it kills me.
“Okay, I’m calling it on the date,” I tell Blondie. “I’ll see you tomorrow at lunch time.”
“What about me?” Trickster smiles.
“You can leave too.”
He grumbles, but Lukas slaps him across the stomach and they leave together. Theo looking back at me a couple of times.
I watch them go and I just know I’m going to have sexy dreams about them tonight. Damn it. I’m not going to be happy with just one of them now. Theo planted too many other possibilities in my head.
I open the pub like usual and curse when I see Mrs Wallace enter with her husband. I remember some of the locals only come out once or twice a week. Their pub outing was always a Thursday night, for some unknown reason. The nosy ol
d woman throws wiltering glances my way as she gets comfortable in one of the plush chairs. Her husband comes to the bar, a pinch-faced old man with terrible eyesight.
“Hi, Mr Wallace,” I greet him. “What can I get you?”
“A pint of bitter and a brandy for Moira.”
I nod, getting a brandy glass out and starting with that. I place it on the bar then set about pouring his pint.
“Busy day?” I ask, attempting to make conversation to ease the less than comfortable silence.
He scowls at me. “It’s never busy around here,” he tells me, as if I don’t know.
I shrug. “You never know when a boat might come in.”
He gives me another scowl. I put his pint down and he passes over a tenner. It’s not until I’m sorting out his change that he decides to speak without any prompting from me.
“My wife says you really are married.” He looks me up and down as if he doesn’t believe what he’s seeing. “She said your husband is a tall man with dark hair.”
“Okay,” I say, waiting for it.
“But Joe saw him in the bar the other night and he swears blind the guy has blond hair.”
“Uh-huh...” Still waiting.
“So which is it? Or can’t you remember?”
I shrug. “I don’t really pay attention to the colour of his hair. It’s more the size of his... feet I’m concerned about. Was that all?”
He scowls again. “You know, you might not remember this, missy, but a lot of us spent hours searching the fields for a body after that stunt you pulled all those years ago. We were worried sick. Moira was afraid to leave the house for weeks afterwards, even though it turned out to be a lie. Don’t bother starting back up with that muck. This town doesn’t need it.”
Doesn’t need me, he might as well come right out and say it.
He’s not wrong. Well, he is and he isn’t. I know what happened stirred up a lot of trouble for the town. I felt guilty about that for a long time, but it doesn’t justify how much everyone tortured me for what they assumed was a lie. I was basically bullied by the entire town.
An eight year old girl, who was also traumatised by what she saw, harassed and hated by all of the people around her because of what they thought was one big mistake. It’s messed up whatever way you look at it.
Cry Wolf Page 4