by Ainsley Shay
“So, this is where you live? Among all the sexy-smelling books?” I cringed, and he chortled, but when he looked at me, his eyes betrayed the slight grin across his lips. They couldn’t be more serious.
I pointed to the thin staircase. “For now, anyway.”
He nodded. “Good to know.” His unshaven face darkened as his eyes glanced from mine down to my shoulder, following the line of my body down to my legs. It was invasive and rude and inconsistent with a demeanor that had been, up until this point, polite. But no matter—I felt heat cultivating in places it shouldn’t. “I like your boots.”
“Thanks,” I heard myself say. I felt as though I was looking in on myself in a moment that couldn’t possibly be real.
“So, where to first?” he asked.
I hadn’t given this tour a lot of thought, and now I wished I had. But, for the briefest second, I imagined offering him a tour of my apartment. Dislodging the idea from my heat-addled brain, I said, “How about we start at the edge of town and work our way back here.”
“Sounds like a plan.” He put the Jeep in gear and drove toward the setting sun on the outskirts of town.
We drove in silence for a few minutes. The moment seemed neither awkward nor comfortable. I stole a glance at him. He rubbed his jaw, looking as if he was deep in thought. “By the way, I agree with you,” he said, breaking the quiet.
I looked at him full on, and I could only imagine the baffled look on my face. His, on the other hand, looked confident and sensual. “About what?” I asked.
“The smell of old books.” I sank lower into the seat and wished that I could disappear. “They do smell quite sexy. Their scent is a cross between a savored sweetness, a bitter tang, and the essence of pure pleasure.”
Poetic justice at its finest. “Yes,” I breathed out in a rasped whisper. Clearing my throat, I said, “I’ve never heard them described quite like that, but I don’t think there could be a more perfect description.” Blacwin was the perfect distraction from everything else in my life.
He pushed back a few strands of hair from his forehead. When they immediately fell back, he left them there. “How long have you worked there?”
“Forever.” I shrugged. “I don’t think I could work anywhere I wasn’t surrounded by books. I’d feel lost without them.” I paused to look at him. “Even if they didn’t smell all sexy.”
We laughed, and the sound of it felt like a crowbar splitting open the awkwardness of a first date.
His laughing ceased, and his face took on a sobered look when he turned to me. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt that way about anything.”
“There’s nothing you’d feel lost without?”
“There was once. A long time ago.” He didn’t elaborate and I didn’t ask him to.
“When I moved here,” he said, “I noticed a few houses on the outskirts of town, two mini strip malls, a burger place, a high school, which seemed to be the most populated place here, the shops on Main Street, and the cemetery.”
“So, why do you need a tour from me?”
He shrugged. “I don’t. I was just hoping you’d say yes so I could spend time with you.”
I didn’t say anything. I only felt the little mouths of the switchblades as they opened and closed, opened and closed.
“I already picked up dinner for us. I hope you don’t mind.”
I was far from being hungry, but I nodded. “Are you always this prepared and in control?” I asked.
He leaned toward me and rested his elbow on the armrest between us. An impish grin had settled on his mouth, and a dimple I hadn’t noticed before had hollowed out the smallest area on his right cheek. “Yes.”
“Good to know.” I was dumbstruck as to how this turn of events had happened so quickly.
“I guess now is as good a time as any to show you a few things you might not have noticed,” I said.
“Just tell me which way to go.”
I gave him directions that brought us by the old farm. “See that old barn? Well, it’s not just any old decrepit, getting-ready-to-collapse-at-any-moment monument. Every few weeks there’s an illegal rave party. I haven’t been to one in a while, but I doubt they’ve changed much.”
“Only a local would know that.”
The entrance to the maze garden was about a mile up the road. I thought of Snow’s suggestion, and thought she might be on to something. I wondered what Blacwin would think, but then it didn’t matter, he wanted me to show him our town and this was part of it. “Take a left up there.”
“This looks interesting.” He parked under the live oaks with hanging moss and statues at the entrance of the maze. Blacwin opened the back and retrieved a bag. “This has got to be the most perfect time of day. Look at the sunset.” He pointed to the darkening sky. I didn’t say anything. “Do you ever notice that when night opens its arms, it’s as if every moment before this one dissolves?”
“I’ve never looked at it like that.” I looked up and saw only gray.
We walked into the maze. The walls of the hedge were taller than Blacwin, and I wondered if we’d find our way out before the sun was completely gone. Turn after turn we wandered deeper into the maze, until finally we found the courtyard in the center. Four benches sat in a wide square in the middle. Behind each was a path into the maze. I knew only one that would lead out but it had been so long since I’d been here, I couldn’t remember which. That thought pressed into the hollow of my belly with a sick feeling. I didn’t mind being lost here with Blacwin. But I also didn’t know anything about him.
He set down a brown paper bag and two cans of soda on one of the benches. “I hope you like tacos.”
I smiled. “Only if they’re from Big Sombrero.”
“Is there another Mexican restaurant in town I haven’t found yet?”
“Not in this town of only 2,783 people.” I shook my head, laughing, and unwrapped the taco he handed me. Amid crunching bites of tortilla shell, the evening bugs began orchestrating their night song. I started to laugh. A stupid girl-giggle came out when I thought of the situation.
“What’s so funny?”
Covering my mouth with my hand, I said, “Not funny so much as... perfectly and undeniably peculiar.”
“Peculiar, huh?”
“I have lived in Gradywoods my whole life, and I used to come here all the time when I was a little girl. I’ve played with friends, come here if I was upset or mad—even partied here. But I have never had a picnic here with tacos.”
Blacwin’s mouth crooked to the side and his brows bunched together. “How should I be taking that?”
“Definitely in a good way,” I said, with more laughter.
We sat on the bench staring up at the thousands of stars beginning to dot the darkening sky. “Think there’s anything up there?” he asked.
“What? Like aliens?”
“Yeah. Or another universe, God, energy being?”
“Definitely not aliens. I don’t know about the rest.” I thought about my dad. “I want to believe there’s a god or some higher being, but when my dad died, I lost that part of myself. I stopped believing or thinking about those things.” The air around us shifted and a cool breeze floated by, causing me to shiver.
“Are you cold?”
His thick muscled arm was so close, and I wondered, if I said yes, if he’d wrap it around me. I stared at his mouth and the small valley that curved perfectly in the middle of his upper lip. “I’m okay, thanks.” As gracefully as I could manage, I lifted my legs and crossed them, tucking the loose fabric of my dress between. “Oh, and for the record, I don’t believe in wizards, werewolves, vampires, superheroes, fairies, gnomes, witches, warlocks, or love at first sight.”
As Blacwin laughed, his head dropped forward and his hair fell around his face. He looked sideways at me, “Well, I’m glad we got that out of the way.”
I joined in his laughter. The release felt amazing, and soon I was laughing uncontrollably. I calmed enough to say, “I
don’t believe in zombies, either.”
“I figured as much.” When my laughing eased to a thin chuckle, he asked, “So, what do you believe in?”
The question sobered me. “Honestly, I’m not sure I know anymore.” I lowered my eyes from his. “I used to believe in so much more than I do now, but since my father died...” I hadn’t finish. I swallowed the bitterness rising in the back of my throat. I couldn’t let myself cry right now. Not here with Blacwin. I looked at him, and he was still staring at me. I offered a shrug. “I think everything that’s real, that’s worth believing in, is right here in front of us.”
He nodded as if he understood, and believed.
“Have you ever lost anyone?” I’m not sure why I asked this intimate question, and when I watched him gaze out over the smooth edge of the hedge, I instantly regretted it.
“Yes,” he said and nothing else.
I placed my hand over his and gently gave it the slightest pressure before tucking it back into my lap. He looked at me. “I’m sorry,” is all I said in return.
Looking around the courtyard, the moon glistened and gleamed over the statues like a fantastically demented spotlight. Breaths of crisp air blew between Blacwin and me, the eerie wisps seeming to wake whatever emotions had not forsaken us. Blacwin’s dark eyes looked at me, really looked at me, and I wanted to turn away, but they locked me into a place I wanted to flee and, simultaneously, stay forever.
His mouth formed a thin smile and I watched as his eyes soften. “What about leprechauns? You failed to mention them. The pot of gold at the end of a rainbow bursting with colors.”
I laughed and shook my head. The wisps of wicked air dissolved between us and I debated telling him that I’d never seen those bursting colors in a rainbow. But things were going too well to mess them up by telling him. I had never felt a connection like this before—not with Justin or anyone else. It was as though Blacwin had a purpose or a cause. I remembered his silly question and answer my truth: “I believe in good and bad.” I shrugged. “It’s what makes up the world—the people who want to give and the people who take. It’s not a nice place. That’s why I love my fiction so much. Worlds of fantasy I can escape to for a little while.”
When our eyes met, he said, “You intrigue me.”
I laughed. “I intrigue you. What’s that mean exactly?”
“You’re not scared.”
“I’m scared of a lot of things. I mean...” I scooted a few inches to my right, away from him. “Look at me, I’m sitting on a stone bench, in the center of a maze that I have no idea how to get out of, with a guy who might possibly be a killer. I don’t have a reason not to be scared.”
He narrowed his dark eyes on mine. “I don’t plan on killing anyone... not tonight anyway.”
Tonight. The word was heavy and dripped with sinister evil, but when it passed his lips, it became elegant and seductive. “Hmph, well, that’s definitely good to know. Whew. I mean, that’s really great news.”
Crickets filled the quiet between us.
“Can I ask you something?” I said.
“By all means.”
“Why did you move here? I mean, of all places in the world to move. Why here?”
He looked across the courtyard and seemed to be in another place when he answered. “I’m looking for someone, and she lived here once.”
11
I went to sleep thinking about Blacwin and his reason for moving to town, I’m looking for someone, and she lived here once. Our night had been going well until that moment. Even if he had kissed me, I don’t think it could have erased those words. I wondered who “she” was and why he was looking for her. The only reason I could come up with was that he loved her. So, why was he out with me? Stop trying to get inside his head. I had too many other things to worry about than trying to figure out something that had nothing to do with me. Tomorrow would be busy and I needed to try to rest.
Snow was standing on her porch when I arrived, her bag tossed over her shoulder and a pissed-off look smeared across her face.
“I hate Mondays! And what took you so long?” Snow asked as she yanked open the passenger door.
“Hey, careful there. Spike isn’t as young as she used to be.”
“God knows that’s true. Spike was already in menopause when you acquired her.” She slammed shut the door of my 1974 VW Karmann Ghia. “Come on, let’s get out of here before my mom starts her ranting again.”
“What did you do now?” I asked, giving her a sideways glance.
“I don’t even know.” She started cruising radio stations as I pulled away from the curb. Whenever Snow was quiet, I knew she was upset. I knew this because Snow and quiet had never been the best of friends.
She concentrated on finding a song she could tolerate. “So, where are we going?”
“Oh, I don’t know—class.”
“Wait—what?” Her hand paused over the radio’s knob. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m transferring back to school here.” I didn’t tell her why I was transferring back. I couldn’t come right out and say, Snow, thought I’d stick around to see if I could hunt down the killer who murdered my dad.
Her squeal could have broken glass. She reached across the car and gave me the tightest squeeze. “It all makes perfect sense. I seriously thought you were going crazy when you offered to bring me to school.”
“Nope. I had a plan.”
She turned in her seat to face me. “Best idea ever... why don’t we celebrate that amazing news by ditching today?” She suggested, giddy as only a girl wearing netted stockings and Doc Martens could do.
“How about—no. Besides, don’t you have your favorite class today?”
Snow nodded and a devilish grin slid across her dark lips. “He is definitely a very fine perk.” She met my squinty-eyed glare with wriggling eyebrows. Within a tenth of a second, she did a one-eighty. “You know, I can’t figure you out. You’ve been my best friend since third grade, and sometimes I have no idea who the hell you are.” Her hand flailed through the air emphasizing her words.
Since my dad’s death, I barely recognized myself. I shrugged her off and threw out an offbeat answer: “Yeah, well, Mr. Pene just doesn’t do it for me. What’s so hard to understand?”
She turned away from me, shook her head, and checked herself in the visor mirror. “I think you’re the only chick in school who would take his class to actually learn something.”
“Isn’t that what we’re there for? Besides, I don’t intend to take his class.”
“Whatever,” she said as she trailed the outline of her lips with her finger.
As we pulled into the parking lot, the scenery changed from huge oaks over desolate streets lined with ranch-style homes, to clusters of brick buildings, sidewalks, and grassy fields bustling with people.
The parking lot was more crowded than I remembered. Jessica Timbers stepped right out in front of my car. I slammed on the brakes to avoid her hitting her ass. Snow’s head bumped against the visor. “Bitch!” I yelled.
“What the—” Snow screeched.
Jessica took her sweet time crossing in front of us. When I looked at Snow, she was seething, her face had gone from angelic to bitch in less time than it takes to say Florida. Jessica glanced over her shoulder and gave me the finger. That was nothing new. Since the day she moved here, when we were in seventh grade, and for no specific reason, we have loathed each other. The funny thing is I honestly didn’t know why I hated her. The girl was beautiful with long light hair. She was popular and smart. Her parents owned the local convenience store, Chinese restaurant—though they weren’t Chinese—and the grocery store. There was this one time when she wanted my seat on the bus and I refused to give it up, but other than that pettiness, only God knows why we hated each other. Snow only hated her because Jessica hated me.
I watched as Jessica continued to walk in front of my car as slowly as someone who’d just celebrated their hundredth birthday. Her poor br
easts, asphyxiated by her push-up bra, always arrived at least four inches before the rest of her body. She swayed her ass dramatically in jeans that would no doubt need to be removed with scissors. She was most likely trying to perfect the movement before she arrived at Mr. Pene’s creative writing class.
The man was hot. I’d give him that. Way hotter than a professor should be. He didn’t look a day older than twenty. How in the world he managed to get his doctorate in such a short amount of time was beyond me. With his slicked-back light hair, a three-day-old beard outlining chiseled cheekbones, lashes that I’m sure were long enough to see from the back row of class, and a body that very securely fit into a V-neck tee with a sports jacket and jeans, a girl had no choice but to categorize him as hot. Once you added his eyes to the equation, eyes that pinned you to the wall, hell, you had the perfect specimen.
But something about him was off, creepy even, and apparently, I was the only one to notice.
Snow headed to class and I went to the office to register. Mr. Yves, who had become my custodian, had already contacted the school to let them know I’d be returning here. When the lady behind the counter handed me my schedule, I cringed. All the normal classes, then for electives I had P.E. and creative writing. Before she could disappear, I asked her about art. “Sorry darlin’, they cut the art department due to lack of funding.”
Stifling a groan, I left the office and headed to creative writing. I dreaded opening the door, but it wasn’t like I could stand out in the hall all morning. Muted voices ceased when I opened the door. A few of the faces were new, but I already knew almost everyone in the class.
I handed Mr. Pene my schedule. “Hello, Ms. Thorn, I didn’t realize you would be joining us.”
“I transferred back today.”
He handed me back my schedule. “Great. We’re happy to have you. Please have a seat; I was just getting ready to give this week’s assignment.”