See No Evil: Part One (See No Evil #1)

by Chantal Fernando

  He glances toward his house, then back down at me. “Are you hiding in the bush while your friend talks to my brother?”

  His brow furrows, and I can understand why this would puzzle him, because surely it’s not normal behaviour. I brush the grass off my butt and shift on my feet, not really sure what to say. “It’s a long story.”

  “I have all the time in the world, Brielle,” he says, arching a brow at me.

  I look to Christina, except she has now disappeared, Snoop too. “Where did she go?”

  “She went inside,” Sylar says, eyes not leaving me.

  “She wanted to talk to your brother,” I try and explain without giving too much away. “And she… lost her cat. And then I lost my dog. And yes, that’s how I ended up here.”

  Or something along those lines anyway. Yes, I’m rambling, and probably sound insane, and he’s never going to want to visit my café again. Oh well, might as well go out with a bang now.

  “She wanted to talk to Spencer and you didn’t want me to see you so you hid in the bush across the road from my house?”

  My mouth drops open. “That’s quite an assumption there, Sylar.”

  But yes, he hit the nail on the head.

  “Why wouldn’t I want you to see me?” I ask, trying to play it off. I can’t believe he called me out like this. Does he know that for some unexplainable reason I just want to be in his presence? He should take it as a compliment. I can’t remember the last time I chased a man. Have I ever? I didn’t even chase Eric, he came after me. Maybe in my old age, I’ve lost all my dignity, too.

  Well, this sucks.

  He does something that surprises me then. He grins. It’s devastating.

  In fact, it makes everything that just happened worth it.

  “What am I going to do with you, Brielle?” he murmurs, eyes scanning my face in such a way that butterflies appear in my stomach.

  Kiss me, maybe?

  When he starts chuckling, I realize I said that out loud.

  I cover my face with my hands. “I need a do over. Today needs to start again, and this time I’m just going to stay in bed.”

  A warm hand cups my nape, gently. “Come on, how about I make you a coffee for once.”

  I let my hands drop from my face to look at him.

  He shrugs a little sheepishly and adds, “It’s not going to be as good though.”

  “That’s okay,” I whisper, mesmerized by everything that is he.

  “Hopefully those two are still clothed,” he mutters under his breath, letting go of my nape and placing his hand on my lower back, gently leading me across the road.

  Clothed?

  Christina wouldn’t….

  Oh, who am I kidding? She so would.

  He opens his front door, which is unlocked, and I step into his house, taking everything in. As we walk to the kitchen, I notice that the house is very spacious, and sparsely decorated. It looks like no one lives here, because there is no mess, and no personal touches. I sit down on a bar stool in the kitchen while he grabs two mugs and starts to make some instant coffee. I can’t remember the last time I had any. I’m wondering where the hell Snoop is when he asks, “How many sugars?”

  “Two, please,” I reply, watching his hands work.

  “I’m really sorry about this whole”—I wave my hands around—“thing.”

  “It’s not every day you find a beautiful woman hiding in a bush,” he murmurs, eyes cast downwards. “Why do I have a feeling you get yourself into a lot of trouble?”

  “I mean, I’m alive,” I say, shrugging. “I can’t be doing so badly. And I wouldn’t say it was trouble, more like… shenanigans. We live in a small, boring town. How much trouble can we really get into?”

  Blue eyes rise and clash with mine. “More than you know.”

  The look in his eyes is a warning, but I don’t understand it. Is he warning me away from him?

  “I think I like you,” I blurt out, too far gone to care, too intrigued to lose my only chance to tell him. “I mean, I want to get to know you. Will you tell me about you?”

  He slides one mug in my direction.

  “Thanks,” I tell him.

  “You’re welcome,” he says, picking up his own.

  When he doesn’t say anything else, I ask, “What are you thinking about right now?”

  “I’m wondering why out of all the men in this town, you think you like me,” he says, a muscle working in his jaw. “Because, Brielle, trust me when I say that I’m the worst one.”

  I always did have terrible taste in men.

  Chapter Six

  “You can’t say something like that and then not tell me why,” I say, following him outside, where I find Snoop running on the grass. Where the hell is Christina?

  “Can’t you just take my word for it?” he asks, gesturing for me to sit down before he does. He’s a fucking gentleman so he can’t be that bad, can he? I go by actions, not words. So he can go on about how he’s the big bad wolf, but until I see it for my own eyes, I’m not going to heed any of his warnings. I probably should, but I’m stubborn, and I stupidly believe in the good in people. I’m a fixer.

  “No.”

  “I have a past, Brielle. I’m not worthy of what I see in your eyes when you look at me.”

  My eyes widen as those words leave his lips. Am I so openly read?

  “What do you see?” I ask him, unable to remove my gaze from his.

  “Curiosity,” he says, then clears his throat. “Lust. Want. Need.”

  “You just say anything, don’t you?” I say, sighing.

  “And you don’t? I like open honesty. It’s a lot better than playing games, don’t you think?” he asks, taking a sip of his coffee then putting the mug down on the floor. “I don’t know what you want from me, Brielle, but I can’t give it to you. No one ever tries to talk to me, or wants to get to know me. Why do you? Why can’t you just be like everyone else?”

  “Why would anyone want to be like everyone else?” I fire back. “Why do you try to hide yourself by wearing loose black clothing, by covering your face as much as you can? Why don’t you want any attention?”

  “That’s quite an assumption,” he says, using my previous words against me.

  “I don’t claim to know anything about you, Sylar,” I say, shifting on my seat. “Just that I want to. Is that so bad? Am I so unappealing that you’d never want to spend time with me?”

  I’m laying myself bare here. He can reject me, and I’m just going to have to live with that. At least I took a chance, put myself out there. The worst he can say is no, and then I go on with my life. It’s fine. We’ve only just met, so it’s not hard to walk away, yet the draw with him is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. Everything in me is telling me that this is where I should be. Who am I to ignore that?

  “You’re not unappealing,” he says in a low tone. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, Brielle.”

  My breath hitches. I’m about to reply when I hear my best friend’s laugh echoing through the house. Snoop runs up to me and sits next to my leg, tongue lolling around after having more than his share of exercise. I pick him up and place him on my lap.

  He thinks I’m the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen, and he’s still warning me away from him?

  Why?

  “I don’t get you,” I tell him. “You need to just ask me out.”

  “Ask you out?” he repeats, dragging each word out as if foreign.

  “Yes,” I say, determined to have my way. “On a date. So we can get to know each other better, and so I can make my own judgment of you.”

  “So I can get attached to you before you decide I’m not good enough?” he asks, laughing bitterly. “No, Brielle, I’d rather not know you.”

  Now it’s him giving so much away with just his words.

  Why would he think he’d not be good enough? No one should feel that way. I don’t care what people have done in the past, the past doesn’t define
anyone, only the present does. And right now, I don’t see him being a bad person. Then again, what do I know? I’m only seeing what I want to see.

  “You can’t never let anyone in, Sylar,” I say softly, his words hitting me. I thought I was bad, that my walls were high, but they have nothing on his. Who is this man before me, and what is he hiding?

  “Bree?” Christina calls, spotting me through the kitchen window. She comes outside, unable to hide her cringe. “What are you doing here? Did you come out looking for Kitty too?”

  “Something like that,” I say, telling her with my eyes that I’m going to kill her the second we’re alone.

  Spencer walks out behind her and wraps his arm around her shoulders. “Well, what do we have here?”

  Sylar keeps his eyes on me, not bothering to look at his brother. I really hope the fact I was hiding behind a bush doesn’t come out, but if it does, it will probably be Christina who brings it up.

  “We’re going out to grab something to eat, why don’t the two of you join us?” Spencer asks, studying Sylar.

  “Brielle and I have other plans,” Sylar announces, causing me to sit up straighter in surprise.

  We do?

  “I’ll meet you back at yours then?” Christina asks me, waiting for me to give her my eyes. When I do, she searches them, as if making sure I’m all right.

  “Yeah, sounds good.”

  “Call me if you need anything,” she says, “anything” implying anything from a condom to a shovel.

  “Noted.”

  The two of them leave, chatting like they’ve known each other for years, and I wonder how come it’s so easy for some people. It’s never that easy for me. Snoop jumps out of my arms and goes over to Sylar, who picks him up and gives him a pat.

  “Weird looking dog,” he says, but his eyes are gentle.

  “Hey,” I say playfully. “Watch what you say about my dog.”

  He grins, and an almost boyish look appears on his face. “I always wanted a German Shepherd.”

  “Why didn’t you get one?” I ask.

  His expression suddenly shutters. “I wasn’t allowed any pets as a kid, and afterwards… I travelled a lot. It wouldn’t be fair on the dog.”

  “What about right now then?” I ask him, tilting my head and studying him. “You are planning on staying here for a while, aren’t you?”

  He nods slowly, which gives me the impression he isn’t really sure. Maybe he doesn’t want to get close to anyone because he doesn’t know if he’s staying, or maybe he just doesn’t want to get close to me.

  Maybe I’m not even his type.

  That’s quite a sobering thought. If anything, we could be friends. I think I’d like that, to have him in my life in some way, any way I can take him. I can’t explain it, but I just get the feeling that we’re meant to know each other. And in a way that most people don’t. I’m not a spiritual person, so this isn’t something I’ve ever experienced before. I don’t believe in fate. I believe that you make your own way, and it’s your decisions that decide where and how you end up; however, something in me is telling me I need to be near him.

  I’m not going to question it.

  “Are you close with your brother?” I find myself asking, absorbing any information about him I can get.

  “Spencer, yes,” he says, putting Snoop down. “I have another brother, too. I’m not so close with him.”

  “Why?” I ask, wondering if he will answer. When he doesn’t, I ask a question of my own. “What’s his name?”

  “Sebastian. He’s a doctor,” he says, no emotion in his tone. “Now, what did you say you wanted me to do? Right, ask you out. So, Brielle, would you like to go on a date with me? Maybe we could go to the beach or something. I don’t know. What do you usually do on dates?”

  I squirm a little as he watches me with those intense pale blues. “I don’t know, maybe grab a drink or something, I guess. I haven’t been on a date in a pretty long time.”

  I notice that he changed the subject away from his brother, and I let him. If he doesn’t want to talk about something, he doesn’t have to. It’s curious that you can be so close to one sibling and not to another. And a doctor? That’s quite impressive.

  “Why?” he asks, looking genuinely confused. “Do the men here have bad taste?”

  “Something like that,” I say, smiling warmly at him for the compliment. “A walk on the beach sounds perfect, Sylar. Can we stop at my house and drop Snoop off? I think he’s had enough exercise for one day.”

  “I think he needs more,” Sylar says, smirking, but then adds, “Yes, of course we can do that.”

  I all but bullied him into spending time with me, and I just hope it’s what he wants, and that he isn’t doing it just because he’s a nice guy, even though he keeps telling me he isn’t. When I think back to the first few times I saw him in the café, I guess I wouldn’t have thought of him as a nice guy either. He was quiet, and not very polite, but he was never rude. He just kept to himself, which isn’t a crime. Some people like to be invisible. What I want to know is why Sylar likes it.

  “He’s meant to be a little chubby,” I huff, picking him up and following Sylar to the front yard, where his black truck is. He opens the door for me, which I find charming, then waits for me and Snoop to climb in before shutting it. Sad, but I can’t remember the last time a man did that for me. “Alarm” by Anne-Marie plays on the radio as I tell him which house is mine. I love this song. He stops and waits while I drop Snoop off inside, then return to his truck.

  “You have a nice house,” he tells me as he gets back onto the road. “You said you were renovating it?”

  “Yes.” I nod. “I like that you remember that.”

  He grins and says, “If you need any help, just let me know. I have a lot of spare time these days.”

  “That’s what retirement is all about, right?”

  “I like that you remember that,” he says, darting his eyes to me before returning to the road.

  I laugh at him. “Are you always going to use my words against me?”

  “Probably,” he says, running his hand over his beard.

  “And thanks for the offer,” I tell him. “I might have to take you up on it. I can only do so much by learning from videos on the Internet.”

  He shakes his head. “That’s what you’ve been doing? Just tell me what you need. Spence and I will get it done.”

  “I can’t ask you to do that,” I say, brow furrowing. “It wouldn’t be right. I’ll do what I can but if I get really stuck, it’s nice to know I can call on you for backup.”

  “I’ll come inside and see what I’ll need,” he says, ignoring me. “It will be fun.”

  “Fun?” I ask, quirking my brow. “That’s your definition of fun?”

  “Sure,” he says, shrugging. “I don’t drink, or do drugs or anything like that. Not much of a partier. I like to be productive. I like to run, to train, and I like working with my hands.”

  I wonder what else he’s good at with his hands.

  Okay, mind out of the gutter, Brielle.

  “Train?” I ask, wondering what he means.

  “Yeah,” he says. “I’ve done mixed martial arts my whole life, so sometimes Spence and I will mess around. I don’t want to become sloppy.”

  “I like to drink sometimes,” I say, interested in his reaction.

  “That’s fine,” he says, not fazed. “It’s just not for me.”

  Is he a control freak? I have a feeling that he is, and that’s why he doesn’t drink. Either way, I’m not going to judge him on his choices, just like he didn’t judge me on mine.

  “Noted,” I say, watching the road.

  I’m going to the beach.

  With Sylar.

  I guess I owe Christina a thank you after all, because without her scheme, Sylar and I would still be strangers.

  Chapter Seven

  “So what brought you to town?” I ask him, shoes in my hand as my feet enjoy the sand bene
ath them.

  “We were left the house,” he explains, looking out to the ocean. “So we decided to come here and check it out, and we liked the place. The beaches are beautiful here, and the views. It’s quiet, which I like, so we thought we’d try spending some time here. How about you?”

  “I’ve always lived here,” I admit, hating that fact. It sounds sad, like I tried to get out but never made it. “I did a little travelling, but I always came home. My parents left me their house and the café, and I don’t want to sell either, so I ended up just staying, I guess.”

  It might not be spectacular, but it’s home. My friends are here, and I have everything I need. I can’t complain, and I usually don’t.

  “Why are you single?” he asks, looking down at his feet as the water covers up to his ankles.

  My eyes widen at the question, and my mind races as I think of how to answer it. “I don’t know. I guess I haven’t met anyone worthy of my time. How about you?”

  He stops and faces me, lifting his hand to push away an errand lock of hair that has escaped my braid. “I’m complicated, I suppose.”

  “Complicated or picky?” I ask, glancing up at him, shielding my face from the sun with my hand. “Were you ever going to come back into the café?”

  “I don’t know,” he says, dropping his hand. “I wanted to, but I don’t know if I would have.”

  “Because of me, or because of the coffee?”

  “Both,” he says, lip twitching. His voice is gruff, but his words are only ever eloquent. He hasn’t sworn once yet. My voice, on the other hand, is sweet and soft, but I’ve been known to cuss like a sailor.

  “Why wouldn’t you come back if you wanted to?” I ask, taking a step closer to him so our bodies are almost touching. “That doesn’t make any sense, Sylar. All we shared were a few reluctant words. At least, reluctant on your behalf.”

  Again, I don’t get an answer, at least not a proper one.