Watcher (The Shining Ones Book 1)

by Shawnee Small

  Birdie didn’t even acknowledge them. He stood watching me, breathing hard.

  I didn’t know what to say.

  “I think we got away with it,” I said to fill the empty silence.

  “I don’t care who sees us, Poe.” His tone was quiet, but steady.

  “Listen, Birdie–”

  “No, you listen,” he interrupted. “Don’t do this, Poe. Don’t make it out to be nothing.”

  “We can’t do this.” I ignored the pleading in his voice. I didn’t want to hurt him, but I’d allowed it to go too far.

  “Why not? I love you with everything I have. Isn’t that enough?” The pain contorted his features as he stepped toward me.

  I knew then I’d made a mistake in letting him kiss me. Being anything more than just friends would change things unequivocally. I couldn’t chance it.

  “What if it doesn’t work out?” I asked. “What if you wake up one day and decide you don’t love me like that anymore? What happens to us then?”

  “That won’t happen. You know it won’t,” he said resolutely. His hair stuck out at all sorts of angles, tousled from my fingers. His lips were swollen, my lip gloss smudged around the corners of his mouth. He stood his ground.

  I felt the words in the back of my throat before I could utter them. Not the words of love and affection, but the ugly words, the words that would put things right even if it hurt him now. I didn’t want to use them‌—‌they were cold, harsh, slimy things that would inflict pain, but it was beyond my control now. He would eventually forgive me even if he couldn’t forgive himself.

  “I don’t love you like that,” I stated.

  “Bullshit, I don’t believe you!” he yelled, even though he was two feet from my face.

  I flinched and backed away from him.

  “If you don’t have feelings for me, then what the fuck was that all about?” he challenged. “Don’t tell me that was just a friend kiss. Don’t lie to me. I felt it, too.”

  “It wasn’t just a friend kiss.” I watched his face light up, knowing what came next. “I wanted it, but it could’ve been anyone. It was just a physical thing for me.” His face crumbled before I turned away from him. I couldn’t stop the pain in my chest, just like I couldn’t stop the hurtful words. “It’s not going to happen. Not now, not ever. You aren’t the one, Birdie. I’m sorry.” I meant it.

  “Fuck you,” he spat, struggling to get ahold of himself.

  I turned back around, surprised by the venom in his voice.

  He stood glaring at me, the unshed tears burned away by his anger. “One day you’ll wake up and realize you’re wrong, but it’ll be too late. One day I won’t be there anymore‌—‌remember that.” His tone was ominous.

  I wanted to reach out to him, but he stormed off down the street, leaving me standing in the dark, my heart heavy and sore.

  I had hurt the most important thing in my life.

  ***

  After my run-in with Birdie, I was worse than useless. Stevie took one look at my face and told me to go home‌—‌I wouldn’t have been able to wait on one more table even if I wanted to. Needing a chance to talk about what had happened with Birdie and feeling sorry for myself, I walked into Chu’s takeaway. Amanda wasn’t Haylee, but she’d have to do. Amanda stood at the counter, taking an order over the phone.

  “Your total is twenty-one dollars and seventy-three cents. It’ll be ready in fifteen minutes,” she barked into the receiver. “No, I said twenty-one, not thirty-one,” she said even louder. “Two-one-seven-three, Mrs. Dodson. Fifteen minutes‌—‌one, five,” she repeated, exasperation clearly marked her face.

  “Phone troubles?” I offered halfheartedly.

  “No, the phone’s fine. Mrs. Dodson never uses her hearing aid.” She shook her head, her eyes widening. “But what am I talking about? How are you? Are you okay? Haylee called me at lunchtime.”

  I smiled weakly, my eyes welling up.

  “Aw, hey, it’s going to be okay,” Amanda replied, rushing out from behind the counter. She patted my back and offered me a napkin. I dabbed my eyes, blowing my nose loudly. A flock of Canada geese could’ve been passing overhead, given the amount of noise I was making. It didn’t seem to offend Amanda, though. She pointed to a chair in the corner and I gratefully took it. She sat down next to me.

  “Are you still upset about last night?” she asked.

  Shaking my head, I told her about what had happened with Birdie. She was extremely solicitous when I was done.

  “So what do you want to do?” she asked.

  “I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “I need him in my life, Amanda, but I can’t give him what he wants.”

  “Well, maybe you don’t know what you want. Give yourself some time to think it over, at least.”

  “I‌…‌just can’t. I know that sounds like a cop-out, but I don’t want to lose him, Amanda.”

  “You might lose him, anyhow. You can’t control his heart, Poe, even if you’ve tried for most of his life.”

  “That’s not fair,” I started.

  Amanda put her hand up to stop me. “I’m not judging you, Poe. There’s no need to get defensive. Give the guy a break. He loves you. You should be happy.”

  Amanda was right on some level, but she missed the point on another‌—‌what if it didn’t work out? We’d never be able to be friends again, and that was something I couldn’t live with.

  “Anyhow, enough about me and Birdie. What happened to you last night? You ran off early and missed all the excitement.”

  Amanda looked embarrassed.

  “What?” I looked at her.

  She gave me a strange look back.

  “You met up with mystery guy, right?”

  “You could say that,” she replied, looking down at her hands.

  “Amanda!” I exclaimed. “You didn’t, did you?”

  “Shhh! Could you be any louder?” she uttered under her breath. “It’s not the first time, you know.”

  I forgot about my troubles and gave Amanda a conspiratorial look. “So was it good, then?”

  “It was divine,” she grinned, her expression matching mine.

  I snorted.

  “Shut up, will you?” she ordered, “What, are you, like, sixteen?”

  “Oh, Amanda, that’s rich coming from you,” I teased.

  “Yeah, well, I really like him, okay?” she confessed, biting her lower lip.

  “Wow. Seriously? As in, really like him?” I asked, leaning forward over the table.

  “Yeah, just like that.” She flipped her hair out of her face and looked me straight in the eye.

  “So how does he feel about you?” I asked.

  “I don’t know,” replied Amanda, her voice uncertain. “He’s a bit hot and cold. I just can’t read him. One moment he’s all over me, the next he acts as if…”

  “What?”

  “As if I’m repulsive.” She faltered over her last word. The grin disappeared. I reached across the table for her hand. She didn’t pull back when I covered her hand with mine. “It’s worse than that,” she said miserably. “I didn’t start my period today.”

  I stared at her in horror. “Oh god. Are you pregnant?”

  “I don’t know yet.” Her voice was hollow. “It’s too soon to tell.”

  “Jesus, Amanda, have you thought about what you’re going to do if you are?”

  “Not really,” she said calmly.

  “We need to come up with a plan. I know there’s a clinic near Atlanta. I–”

  “No,” she snapped. She pulled her hand out of my grasp.

  “What?”

  Her change of tone shocked me. “I love him, Poe. If I’m pregnant, I’m keeping this baby.”

  “Amanda, you don’t even know how he feels about you. How’s he going to feel about a baby?” I blurted out. Hurt flitted across her face briefly before her countenance turned stony again.

  “
It doesn’t matter. If he can’t handle it, well, I can. I just have to come up with a way to sell it to him. I’m sure it’ll work out,” she insisted.

  “It’s not a used car, Amanda, it’s a baby!”

  “Keep your voice down!”

  At that moment, the door of Chu’s opened up. It would’ve been bad enough if it’d been just Mrs. Dodson, but just to makes things worse, fate had thrown in Mr. Chu as well. He stood directly behind Mrs. Dodson, his expression neutral until he saw Amanda sitting down with me. His expression changed to one of irritation.

  “What are you doing sitting down, eh?” he asked rapidly. “Where is Mrs. Dodson’s food, eh? You got time to sit down?” he shot at her.

  “Poesy was just leaving,” replied Amanda.

  “Amanda, don’t shut me out,” I urged.

  “Just go,” she said tersely.

  “Yes, you go, Poesy. Amanda busy,” Mr. Chu blustered, his face getting redder by the minute.

  I got up quickly and grabbed my apron off the table, heading for the door. “I’m sorry, Mr. Chu.”

  “You go now. Amanda talk later,” he said, dismissing me with a hand gesture.

  I gave him a quick nod and headed out the door, apologizing to Mrs. Dodson on the way. She just smiled at me inanely‌—‌she hadn’t heard a word.

  ***

  The next day at work, things were calmer. Having the afternoon shift gave me time to think about the craziness from last night. Not that I was actually thrilled at the prospect of re-living the ups and downs‌—‌okay, mostly downs‌—‌of the night before. And to be honest, I wasn’t sure what I was more upset about‌—‌Birdie or Amanda.

  The friction with Birdie had been raised a notch or two after last night’s escapade out in front of the bar, and that was probably putting it mildly. I’d known for a long time how Birdie felt about me, but I’d been careful to sidestep the issue at every possible awkward opportunity. I loved him, I knew that. The thought of him being something more than a friend, however‌…‌well, I couldn’t even go there.

  And Amanda‌…‌what had happened there? It felt bad whatever way you looked at it. She could be a loudmouth, yes, just like Haylee Jane, but she didn’t break the rules often. Yet somewhere, Amanda had taken a wrong turn. A big one. And that was so unlike her. She was the last person I’d expected to show up pregnant. Just the possibility was shocking to me. And why wouldn’t she talk about the father-to-be? Why was she so secretive about it?

  When the clock struck six, I was more than ready to leave Paddy’s. On the walk home, I tried to avoid thinking about Birdie and Amanda. Instead, my thoughts turned to Adam, and frankly, thinking about him didn’t make me feel any better. I’d acted like a spoiled brat, and our bust-up in the alleyway hadn’t been one of my best moments. After all, he’d saved our lives‌—‌why was it so hard for me to accept that?

  Suddenly, I felt foolish and ashamed. It didn’t matter why he had been there that night or how he had saved us. What mattered was that Haylee and I were alive. I owed him big time.

  On impulse, I walked past the turn for my trailer and continued on Jones Street until the sign for Chatham Avenue appeared. Turning right, I went another two blocks and found myself at my destination.

  Adam’s house.

  The entire walk took me less than fifteen minutes.

  Adam had chosen his house well if privacy had been a prime factor. Most places on Tybee were pretty exposed‌—‌a few palm trees, some scrubby pines, and an outdoor lawn ornament or two made up the majority of yards. The old Harrington property was different. It sat back farther from the road than other houses on the street. Because it had been neglected for years, the shrubs and trees had taken over the vast yard in front of the house. From the street, I could just about make out the tin roof glittering against the twilight. The slate pavers that marked the route to the front door were rife with weeds. The fence was still intact in some places, but much of the faded, whitewashed wood had fallen prey to termites long ago.

  Wonderful, I thought to myself.

  Taking a deep breath, I reached over the wooden gate, fumbling for the latch. There was none; however, the gate didn’t budge. I grabbed the first picket on the gate and tried to wiggle it back and forth, but the gate stood hard and fast. Using both hands this time, I threw my entire weight against it. Bad call. The gate flew open and I went careening through headfirst, landing on my knees, my good hand scratched by some brambly bush, my bad hand throbbing as I tried to cushion my fall. I wanted to scream, but all that came out of my mouth was a loud and long list of swear words.

  Gathering my pride, I stood up and limped down the overgrown path toward the front of the house. As the front porch came into view, I took a deep breath and let it out in one slow exhale. Now what? All I had to do was step up onto the porch and knock on the door, but something held me back. My mind raced around for an answer that was as simple as it sounded. Was it possible I was nervous? Why? I dealt with people at Paddy’s all the time. Yet for some reason, this felt different. As silly as it sounded, I didn’t know what to say.

  I pulled myself together and squared my shoulders. I could do this. He was just a man, after all. Just a strange man who must’ve had more money than god and who for some reason had inserted himself into my life. How hard could it be? I climbed the steps quickly before losing my nerve. Creeping quietly to the front door, I knocked gently, waiting for him to open the door.

  Nothing happened.

  I knocked again.

  Still no answer.

  I found myself getting irritated. Sure, he’d saved my life, but not opening the door? Really? Was that really how he was going to play this?

  Sometimes my mind could be my worst enemy.

  Het up and determined to speak to him, I stomped off the front porch and strode around to the back of the house. I knew the back of the house had a large screened-in porch, and provided it hadn’t rotted away, I could go up the back stairs onto it. From there, I’d be able to peek into at least four of the rooms situated on the river side via adjoining windows and would catch him in the act of ignoring me. I’d demand that he come outside and talk to me if he wouldn’t let me in. It seemed like a good idea until I got up on the porch.

  That was when I saw the light.

  If a billion fireflies had gotten caught inside the house, their brightness would have been a mere glimmer in comparison to the blaze that shot out of two rear bedroom windows. Brighter than the sunniest beach day, the bedroom sang with an eerie luminescence. Beautiful, enchanting light. Like a moth to the proverbial flame, I felt myself drawn to the window, and so I stepped to the sill to take a closer look.

  Nothing could have prepared me for what was on the other side of the window.

  Adam sat naked and cross-legged in the middle of the dazzling light, arms stretched out by his side, wrists up. He sat stone-still in front of the side window on the bare wooden floor, the moonlight streaming down over him. At least, it looked like moonlight. The light radiating off his body was something else entirely. It was as if he were made from stars.

  I rubbed my eyes to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating. He still sat motionless on the floor, but a closer inspection showed he wasn’t sitting comfortably. Two large gashes protruded from the flesh around his ribs. He also had a host of wounds on his inner arms, including several nasty-looking cuts, as if he’d been stabbed by a knife, while his back had tiny burrows the size of fingernail scratches. He was in a bad state.

  Suddenly I didn’t want to know anything more about the light. It might’ve been adrenaline or common sense, but some part of me knew that what I saw couldn’t be good for me. Right then I wanted to be anywhere else but there on the back porch staring at something I didn’t even have the words to describe. My mind faltered over that thought for a split second before my feet started to move backward. Still, I couldn’t take my eyes off him.

  That was why I didn’t see the pot of dead flowers s
itting on the porch floor.

  My left foot caught the edge of the terracotta pot and I lost my balance, my arms flailing, looking for something, anything, to hold onto. There was nothing. I stared helplessly at my hands while my mood stone ring slipped off my finger, pinging across the floor before I fell back over the pot, tipping it over with a loud crash as my back hit the deck. My skull ricocheted off the floor with a large crack. Luckily, I didn’t knock myself out, but I would have a serious goose egg on the back of my head. I swore loudly for the second time that night.

  My swearing stopped abruptly when a naked Adam stood hovering angrily over me, hands on his hips, his manhood on prominent display. Sweat stood out on his brow, and his pale skin seemed almost ashen in the shadows. The shining had disappeared. Even though I knew I was in trouble, I couldn’t keep from blushing and covering my eyes.

  I bet he’s popular with the ladies, I thought.

  “What in the bloody blazes are you doing, creeping around my house?” he demanded with effort.

  “Well, you see, I was…” I started talking to the porch screen, still shielding my eyes. Then every subtle and suave introduction I’d rehearsed in my head was gone.

  “Yes?” His voice was laced with anger.

  “Um, can you cover up?” What I really wanted to say was, Could you please cover up because your man part is practically in my face?

  But I couldn’t say the thought out loud.

  “Oh, right, of course. Sorry.” I heard him shuffle a few steps. “You can open your eyes now.”

  I opened my eyes to the sight of a tired Adam with a blue beach towel wrapped securely around his waist. His torso was still naked and now wound-free.

  “Better?” he asked. He swayed subtly from side to side. If I didn’t know any better, I would’ve said he was drunk.

  “Are you okay?” I asked, rising to my feet, any thought of my well-being pushed aside by my southern breeding. Even when faced with uncertain danger, I was polite.