by C. C. Hunter
“Were there lots of other Mustangs there?”
“Some,” I say.
He tilts his head and studies me. “Nice ones?”
“I think so.”
He chuckles. “I swear, sometimes you don’t seem like you’re into cars.”
“I hate to disappoint you, but I’m really not. I mean, I love my car and I want to know how to work on it. But I’m not a car fanatic.”
“So what are you a fanatic about?”
I start to just shrug. “I like to read . . . and draw.”
“Do you take art?” he asks.
“I did at the other schools. Here it was auto tech or art. But I’m thinking of taking some classes in college.”
“What kind of art?”
“I don’t know yet. Maybe painting or drawing.”
“Where are you going to school?”
“I don’t really know yet. I have to get some school loans first.”
He studies me and smiles softly. “You are an enigma. Sooner or later I’m going to figure you out. Uncover all your secrets.”
I hope not. The garage door opens and Mr. Ash is standing there. He gets back in his car to drive it inside.
Jacob is still staring at me. “So why did you get a Mustang? Why that car?”
Hesitating, I watch Mr. Ash pulling in, and then tell the truth. “Because my mom had one when she was young.”
“Does she still have it?”
“She died when I was four.”
Empathy fills his expression. “Damn. Sorry.”
I nod.
“So it’s just you and your dad?”
“Yeah.”
“At least you don’t have siblings. I have a younger brother and sister. They are a pain in my ass.”
I grin. But I don’t agree. I spent many years wishing I had a sibling. Someone besides just me and Dad. Because when you just have one family member, you are more panicked about losing them.
“Not that I wouldn’t kick anyone’s ass if they hurt them,” Jacob says.
Again, I think about him being a good guy. My heart feels a slight thrill at being here with him.
Mr. Ash gets out of his car. “You two can get started. Just be careful, remember the safety rules.”
We both nod.
In a few minutes, we’re under the car on our creepers. The space is so small it feels intimate. It’s quieter than on regular school days. I start working first and I feel his gaze on me. I keep trying to loosen a bolt that doesn’t want to be loosened.
“What was his name?” he asks.
I glance at him. “Whose name?”
“The guy who broke your heart. The guy who’s stopping you from giving me a chance.”
My mind goes to Carl, but is it Hayden standing in my way? I don’t even know. Shit. I am an enigma even to myself.
“It’s not like that,” I say.
“Yes it is. And whoever it is, he’s an idiot. I wouldn’t do you wrong.”
• • •
“This is nice,” I say, and look around at the pond. The sun is out and it’s almost warm. I think of last night and the cold. Crazy Texas weather. I watch some geese float past. Their squawking follows them down a slow ride on the water. Occasionally, I hear a splash. It’s peaceful.
Don’t ask me why I agreed to come here, but I did. Jacob pleaded for me to go grab lunch with him and all I could think about was that damn promise to Hayden. Then I thought about going home to an empty house. To being alone and worrying about the letter I wrote, worrying about Dad. Missing Mom. Alone to accept that Hayden is never coming back.
So here I am. With Jacob. Because Kelsey and her mom are going to see a cousin and won’t be back until tomorrow and Dad told me this morning that he had to work.
Jacob, holding a fast food bag, tosses me the blanket he pulled out of his trunk.
I shake it out and sit down on it. “I didn’t even know this park was here.”
He drops down beside me and hands me my hamburger and drink.
The burger’s still warm in my hand. I find a place my drink won’t fall over and unwrap the sandwich to take a bite.
He does the same. We eat in silence. After a few minutes, he crumples up his sandwich paper and looks around. “I can’t come here without thinking of Carter.”
I remember this is the guy with brain damage. “You two were friends?”
“Yeah.” A sad smile widens his lips. “Last summer I had this grand idea to come fish the pond. Carter had just put a worm on his hook and was grabbing the rod to cast it in when a goose came up and snatched up the worm and hook. The thing started squawking. I screamed for him to cut the line and he did. But then he said the goose would die with a hook in his mouth.”
Jacob takes a deep breath as if breathing in the memory. “So Carter jumps up and goes after the goose. The thing is fighting like crazy but he holds this huge bird up and brings him back here. The goose is squawking like mad, I’m laughing my ass off and Carter’s yelling at me to get the pliers out of the tackle box. I hand them to him and he puts the bird between his knees and uses the pliers to attempt to pull the hook out.”
Jacob laughs again, but there’s a whisper of loneliness in it. I wonder if that’s part of the reason I like him. I sense that like me, he’s dealt with loss.
He looks down a second. “The goose never shuts up and it’s as if he’s calling for help. Because all the sudden we are surrounded by geese. I mean a huge flock of them. Like they are out to save their friend. Carter doesn’t care. He just keeps working. I have to stand up to wave them away. I swear, right before we get flogged by a hundred geese, he gets the hook out and lets the damn bird go. It goes squawking off, but not before it stands there and gives Carter a piece of his mind. I swear that bird called Carter every name in the book.”
I laugh, getting the image of him and his friend being surrounded by geese.
He lets go of a deep sigh. “That’s Carter for you. He loved animals. He’d have been flogged by a shit load of geese before he’d let that bird die.”
“Loved?” I ask. “Has he passed away?”
“Not yet, but I saw his stepdad and he told me he’s not doing well.” He swallows hard. I can see he hurts for his friend. I think of how I hurt for Hayden and I can relate to how he feels.
“What happened to him?” I ask, remembering the man at Dad’s work, a Mr. Carter. I wonder if that’s a coincidence? Was Carter the boy’s last name, not his first? If so, should I worry I might have Jacob’s friend stopping in to see me next.
I start to ask about the name thing, when my phone rings. I check the number. “It’s my dad. Excuse me a second.”
I take the call. “Hey Dad.”
“Where are you?”
“I called and left a message. I went to lunch with Jacob, my auto tech partner.”
“I know. I got that message. So you’re on a date?”
“No.” I pull the phone tighter to my ear just in case Jacob can hear him. “Just lunch.”
“Is it just you and him?”
“Yes.”
“Then it’s a date. And you know the rules, before you date anyone I need to meet them.”
I almost tell him he has met Jacob at the car show, but then Jacob will know this is about him. I frown, remembering all the issues I had with Dad when I dated Carl. “I’ll be home soon,” I say in an unhappy voice.
“You’d better. I’m at work. Call me when you get there. And this won’t happen again, young lady. Understand?”
I hang up. I’m fuming. Now that I know Mom got pregnant when she was young, I wonder if that’s why he’s so hard on me. He thinks I’m going to get pregnant?
I suddenly realize Jacob is staring. “Sorry,” I say.
“Your dad?” he asks.
“Yeah.”
He looks at me and grins while a little guilt plays in his eyes. “So he’s a little overprotective?”
He must’ve heard what Dad said. I frown. “That’s an understate
ment.”
He shrugs. “Then let me come over and talk to him. I actually do pretty well with dads. I can talk cars, sports. Dads trust me. I’ve got one of those faces.”
I sweep a strand of blond hair behind my ear. “I don’t think--”
He presses a finger to my lips. “I know you’re fighting this. But give me a chance, Riley. We can take it slow. Just hang out some. I won’t push you. I just . . . You are unlike any girl I’ve ever known. I want to get to know you. I want to know what makes you tick. What makes you laugh. And it’s not just . . . because you’re beautiful. It’s . . . everything about you appeals to me. The way you think, the way you treat people. Give me a chance, please? Next Saturday my parents are throwing a party down by our lake house. It’s not a grand place, but the lake is scenic and we cook out and it’s a lot of fun. Come with me.”
I’m speechless. Or I think I am, but then I hear the two syllables slip from my lips. “Okay.” Shit! Did I actually agree to this? What the hell am I doing?
Oh, yeah. I’m moving on. I’m keeping my promise to Hayden.
Jacob grins. “Yes!”
Then he kisses me. His mouth is soft. His lips are moist and they ease across mine. His tongue slips across my bottom lip.
I’m pulled in at the same time I force myself to pull back. I feel the flutters in my stomach, good flutters, but nothing like I felt with Hayden. I push that thought away. I have to let go of Hayden. Hayden’s dead. I’m alive and I need to start living like I am.
I meet Jacob’s eyes. “What happened to slow?”
He shrugs, guilt flashes in his eyes, but he still smiles. “I don’t think I can kiss slower than that.”
I give him the evil eye.
“Okay. Sorry. Sorry. I promise to behave. How about this?”
Before I know what he’s intending, he leans in and kisses my cheek, then whispers that kiss over the corner of my lips. I feel frozen again. But the temptation is there to let go and let it happen.
“Is that slow enough?” he asks pulling back, studying me as if he knows I’m mesmerized. And I am mesmerized. I sit up straight.
“How about no kissing for a while.” I lift a brow.
“Wow. That is slow.” He reaches out and brushes another strand of hair off my cheek.
I swat at his hand. “And no touching.”
“Fine.” He’s still smiling and I want so bad to let his smile become important to me. To let it take me to a happy place. To follow this thing, this temptation, to a place where I feel normal again. I remember it being hard to juggle ghosts and a social life. But now I miss juggling. I miss being more than the mortician’s daughter.
“I’m good with it.” He holds up his palm. “Really good with it. Promise.”
• • •
“Wake up! Get up.”
That night I feel the cold pain in my forearms at the same time I hear Abby’s screams. I bolt up to escape her hands and her panic that are gripping me. Hurting me.
“What is it?” I ask, running my hands over the ache in my arms. Then I gasp when I see her. She’s back to being bloody and beaten.
I feel bad that I’d kind of yelled at her. “What is it?” I repeat in a calmer voice.
“You’re in trouble. I’m so sorry I did this to you.”
“How am I in trouble?”
“He’s trying to find you.”
“Who?” I ask, but deep down I’m afraid I know. I just don’t see why or how.
Abby lifts her chin and I see the gleam of tears in her eyes. “The man who raped me. He’s trying to find you.”
Chapter Twenty-three
“Wait. Calm down.” I get out of bed. “How do you know that he’s trying to find me?”
“I went back there. He was in the park office. They have a security camera in the front of the building and he was scanning the footage of you getting out of your car. He wrote down your license plate number and muttered, ‘I got you now, bitch.’ He must know that you were there looking for my ring.”
“He couldn’t know that,” I say.
“Then he must blame you for his phone blowing up. His hand is all bandaged.”
“He couldn’t know that either!”
“Then he’s just upset because you got away. I don’t know why he’s out to get you, but he is. You have to believe me.”
“I do,” I say and the coldness is back, sinking bone-deep and traveling up and down my arms. Up and down my spine. It reaches my heart and it skips a few beats, then starts racing.
Hard.
Fast.
Pounding.
I feel my chest bone vibrating.
Shit. Crap. Damn.
What can I do? I can’t tell Dad. I can’t go to the police. What the hell am I going to do?
“I sent the letters,” I tell her, trying to calm her, trying to pretend it calms me. But is that going to be enough?
• • •
“Something interesting?”
I look up from my phone to Jacob leaning on the locker next to mine.
“Not really,” I say and close the link before it opens. For the last three days I’ve been a nervous wreck, obsessively checking the news for any information on Abby’s case, desperate for my letter to reach the right hands. On top of that, I’ve just been flat-out scared that Allen Griffin really is looking for me.
“We’re still on for next Saturday, right?” Today Mr. Ash had us watching videos so we hadn’t had an opportunity to talk in class.
“Yeah,” I say, and realize I haven’t mentioned the date to Dad. That will be fun. Not.
Jacob has kept his going-slow promise. We see each other at auto tech every morning and off-and-on during school. Jami sees us, too. I’ve caught her glaring at me several times, as if with a warning. But let’s be honest. I have bigger fish to be afraid of—Allen Griffin.
Jacob and Dex have also been meeting up with Kelsey and me at my car after school. We’ve hung out and chat for about fifteen minutes the last couple of days. Kelsey isn’t happy about it. Or she says she’s not. But I see the way she looks at Dex, when he’s not looking at her.
It’s probably the same way I look at Jacob. Interested, but uneasy. I’m not sure if my world is about to get rocked or if it’s about to fall off its axis.
“I should go,” I say, feeling like an idiot, unable to find anything else to say to the guy I have a date with next Saturday.
I run to the bathroom, hide in a stall and open the website for the local newspaper. Surely they’ve received my letter by now.
Will they open it right away? Will the letters go into a pile of mail to be opened God only knows when? Will they even take my accusations seriously?
Will Evil Allen find me before the truth is out?
As I wait for website to come up, I’m hoping the reporter has looked into the story quickly and written his article. But nope.
There are no articles or news about Abby’s death. I hate this feeling brewing inside me. It’s fear.
It hasn’t helped that Abby has shown up every night trying to get me to leave town. Like I could just pick up and leave. Her other suggestion to go to the police is just as crazy. What the hell could I say that wouldn’t have them blasting me with questions I can’t answer? And if I told them the truth, I’d end up in the crazy house.
My best bet is to be on guard. Pray the letters work.
Pray really hard.
• • •
After school, Jacob and Dex are at my car again. Jacob asks me if I want to hang out. I tell them that Kelsey and I have to study for a history test and have tons of homework to do. We do have a test, but I’m exaggerating on the homework.
He accepts with a sigh of disappointment.
Kelsey crawls into my car. “So where are we going to go again today so that you don’t have to go home? And why are you so scared to be at your house these days?”
I look at her and frown. Have I been that obvious? Shit, I’m clueless how to explain anything. So I just
don’t.
“I thought we’d go to Running Water Park. I tossed a blanket and some marshmallow treats and waters in my car to snack on while we study.”
When we get there, it’s so pleasant that Kelsey forgets to call me out on being so weird lately. We munch on the snacks, finish studying, and are about to start on our homework when a couple of geese swim past.
I’d told Kelsey about Jacob bringing me here. Even told her about the kiss. But I remember the crazy story Jacob told me about the geese. I recount it to Kelsey and we lie there looking up at the sky and laughing.
“You really like Jacob, don’t you?”
“Yeah. Sort of, kind of, a little.”
She laughs again. “You know, he cornered me at my locker today, wanting to know what happened between you and your old boyfriend.”
I frown. “What did you tell him?”
“The truth as I know it. That you had to move away. And that he moved on before you thought he should.”
I cringe thinking about her passing on this information. “You could have told him it was none of his business.”
“I’ll try to remember that next time,” she says, not sounding guilty at all.
I don’t know if she’s getting even with me for telling Dex she reads the same books as him, or if she’s trying to help me just like I was trying to help her that time.
She looks back up at the sky. “Is Carl really the reason you’re holding back on Jacob?”
“Yeah.” Along with a few other reasons.
“He seems to really like you.”
“I know, and I’m going out with him on Saturday. But don’t start on me when you’re giving Dex the cold shoulder. You didn’t say two words to him today.”
“That’s different.”
“How?”
She sits up. “I don’t expect you to understand.”
“Understand what?” When she doesn’t answer, I sit up. “This isn’t just about your mom’s failed relationships, is it? Is this a race thing?”
I see her shoulders draw back, but she doesn’t answer.