I stared at her for a minute, lost. “Sorry. Hm, who are you?”
“I’m Angela.” She pointed to the name tag on her apron. “Angela Prestfield. We went to high school together, though I was a couple of years ahead of you.” She flipped her hair and an image of her blinked in my mind.
Yes, I remembered her, and I also remembered she had been a big bitch back then. I ran my eyes over her—pants too tight, too much cleavage showing on the sweater underneath her apron, high heels, and too much makeup. I bet she was still a bitch.
“Oh, yes. Hi, Angela.”
She leaned on the counter. “The rumors are you got pregnant from Robbie and your mother decided to run away with you,” she said in a low voice. “So, it’s true?”
I gaped at her. “No,” I snapped, outraged. “That’s not true.”
She rolled her eyes. “Ah, that’s a shame.” Why would she say that? A shame for whom? “Anyway, how can I help you?”
“I was wondering …” My cheeks flamed. Was I about to tell this girl about my father and his letter after what she had just said? She looked like a big gossip. Well, that actually wouldn’t be a bad thing, considering the more people who heard about it, the better. Maybe someone would connect the dots and tell me something useful. Even if it was a half-baked clue. I would take anything at this point.
I opened my mouth to speak, but my attention turned to the old lady who came rushing out of the kitchen. “Here it is, Nik.” I squinted, taking her in. Thick blond hair, golden eyes, a warm smile. I knew her. I read her name tag on her apron and confirmed. It was Marla, the same nice lady who used to serve tables when I came in here with my friends. She placed a bag in front of the guy at the counter. “Sorry it took so long.”
“It’s okay, Marla.”
She smiled wide. “Say hi to Eva for me.”
He returned her smile. “I will. Thanks.” He took the package and left.
Marla turned to me. “Brooke, is that you?”
I couldn’t help the grin that spread across my lips. “Hi, Marla.”
“Oh my goodness.” She reached over the counter and grabbed my hand. “It’s so good to see you. How long has it been?”
“Five years,” I said.
“Wow, that’s a long time.” She grabbed a rag from under the counter and twisted it in her hands. “What brings you back to town?”
My cheeks heated some more. “Well, I’m looking for a man …” I pulled out the letter from my pocket and explained to her about my stupid plan. “I just … I had to come, you know?”
The sound of a glass breaking made me jump from my seat. I glanced over my shoulder. Directly behind me, one of the three men eating together was standing up, his hand in a claw, and a beer bottle lay in pieces at his feet. He stared at the glass as if in a trance.
“What the hell?” the guy across from the booth said, his tone irritated. His shoes had taken most of the spilled beer.
“Oh, I’ll get that,” Marla said. With more rags in her hands, she raced around the counter and started cleaning.
The man knelt down beside her and tried to help her using napkins.
I shook my head and pivoted in my seat, ready to talk to Angela, to ask her if she knew anything, any clue to help me. But she was gone. I glanced around and saw as she entered the kitchen. What the hell?
Her bitchiness dripped into me. Hopelessness snaked into my chest, and I suddenly wanted to run away from this town and give up on this stupid plan.
Outside the diner, I looked up to the darkening skies. Damn it. I hadn’t thought about where I was going to stay yet. Not that I had many options. Unless a new hotel had opened in the last five years, the only place to stay was the Willow Harbor Inn.
“Brooke?”
I looked to the side and a mix of longing and resentment hit me. “Robbie, hi.”
He walked up to me. “My God, it is you.” His eyes ran the length of me. “Wow, you’re even prettier now.”
My cheeks flamed. “You’re not too bad yourself.” I had found him gorgeous when we were younger, and now that he was older, probably twenty-one, he looked hot.
But I still couldn’t shake the odd feeling that assaulted me whenever my eyes met his. He had almost drowned on my watch. And I had just stared at him. Thank goodness for that man who dragged him out of the water. Those had been the most horrible three minutes of my life.
“What are you doing back in town?”
I shook my head, tired of that question. “I’m just … here.” I shrugged.
He took another step closer. “I’m glad you are.” He stared at me, much like he had that night.
Goose bumps raised the hair in my arm and I took a step back. “It’s good to see you, but I should probably go.”
I retreated, but Robbie followed me. He reached over and took my hand in his. “No, please, stay. You need to stay.”
I shook my head. “Robbie …”
“It’s okay, Brooke. You’re here now. It’s all perfect now. You’re perfect.” He was spewing the same kind of nonsense he did that night. What the hell? He tugged me closer. “You’re so beautiful. I can’t believe how beautiful you are.” He leaned into me.
My heart racing, I placed my free hand on his chest and pushed him away. “Robbie, stop.” I put all of my strength into my arms and pulled myself free. “You’re not making any sense.”
Eyes dazed, he raised his arms and came to me. “You’re my life. You’re my everything.”
This was crazy.
When Robbie made another grab at me, I didn’t think.
I just ran.
* * *
I ran for two or three blocks; I didn’t really count. I was too busy panicking.
When I turned a corner and ended up on a familiar street, I slowed down and let my mind think about something other than Robbie. After five years, he was still acting weird around me. What the hell?
I shoved those thoughts to the back of my mind and willed my heartbeat to slow down as I strolled by the street where I had grown up. It was getting dark, so it was a little hard to see the details, but it still looked the same. A few more street lamps and some new porches and trees and shrubs in some front yards. An addition to the side of one house. A new roof on another.
A new color. The house where I had grown up was now a grayish blue instead of light brown. I stared at it and I couldn’t help but think it seemed a little bigger, a little warmer, a little brighter than my mother’s house back in South Dakota.
My mother and I had been happy here. We had been close.
I sighed, wishing we had never moved away.
A light came on in the front window—the dining room. A boy came in, carrying some plates. Then, an older man showed up with utensils. A small girl followed, carrying a stuffed bear and her sippy cup. Last was a woman with a big pan.
The family sat down together for dinner.
A pang cut through my heart.
The sound of a door opening made me jump.
I looked away and my gaze landed on Jane Sande. She had her hair short and dyed a funny yellow tone, but she was still tall and curvy. And it seemed she still took out the trash whenever her mother told her to.
She dumped the trash in the big garbage can beside the house. When she turned around, she saw me. Her eye bugged. “Brooke, is that you?”
A smile tugged at my lips. “Yup. Hi, Jane.”
“Oh my God.” She ran to me and embraced me. “I’ve missed you so much.”
I embraced her back, surprised at how familiar she felt. “I’ve missed you too.” Jane was a year younger than I was, but we had always been good friends. I liked to think she and Lillian had been my two best friends.
She pulled back, but held on to my hands. And then, she blurted out, “What are you doing here? Are you back to stay? Do you have anything going on? Oh my God, please tell me you have nothing going on right now and you can come inside. It’s too cold out and my mother is making her famous chicken pot pie. She’ll
love to have you over for dinner.”
I chuckled, content that my friend continued to be her same bubbly and talkative self. “Nope. I have nothing going on.”
“Come on.” She pulled me inside.
Like her, her family—mother, father, and Jackson, her eighteen-year-old brother, were happy to see me.
During dinner, I told them all about my life—about where my mother and I had moved, about moving away again for college, but staying close enough to my mother so she wouldn’t panic, and about majoring in art. Lastly, I told them about the damn letter that had brought me back to Willow Harbor.
“I know it’s crazy,” I said.
“Oh, honey, I would have done the same thing,” Mrs. Sande said. “No doubt about that.”
Though they all were encouraging to me, they had no clues about who my father could be.
We were organizing the kitchen after dinner when Jane stopped and looked at me. “Wait. Where are you staying?”
“I … I …” I stammered, self-conscious of all eyes on me. “I haven’t looked into it yet, but I’m sure Willow Harbor Inn has—”
“Nonsense,” Mrs. Sande interrupted me. “You’re staying here.”
Relief washed over me. Staying with a friend sounded a heck of a lot better than staying alone at the inn. Plus, it would cost me nothing.
After we finished helping in the kitchen, Jane and I went to her bedroom.
With a naughty smile, she picked up her phone and wiggled her eyebrows at me. “Remember this song?”
Music filled the speakers over her dresser and I laughed. “Holy crap, you still have this one?”
“It’s not that old.”
Well, it was probably about ten years old. When we were younger, Jane and I had been into pop music and music videos. There was one popular song we liked so much, we came up with a routine for it. We had danced it at every opportunity.
She beckoned me to come to the open space between her bed and desk. “Come on. I know you know the steps.”
I shook my head. “Oh my … no way.”
She started moving. “Come on! Just go with it!”
I couldn’t resist. The moment I stood beside her, Jane touched her phone again and the song restarted.
And we started dancing.
Even though it had been five years, I still knew all the steps. Adrenaline and pure happiness filled me. For a moment, I was carefree and happy and having fun with my best friend, and nothing else mattered.
When the song ended, Jane put it back on again, and this time I not only danced it, I also sang.
Suddenly, the door of the bedroom opened and Jackson stepped in.
“Divine,” he mumbled, staring at me.
I stopped dancing and singing, and Jane laughed. “Cut it out, Jackson.”
“It’s simply …” Jackson advanced toward me. “Divine.”
Jane stopped dancing and pushed her brother back. “Stop being an ass, and leave us be.”
He let her push him back to the door.
“What’s happening here?” Mr. Sande asked, seeing Jane and Jackson at the door.
He halted behind his kids. He looked up past them, and when his gaze landed on me, his eyes went wide. “So beautiful.”
I gasped. It was happening again. Whatever it was, it was happening again.
Jane scrunched her nose. “Dad! She’s my friend.”
“And she’s beautiful,” he repeated.
“She’s divine,” Jackson said.
Both of them stared at me with dazed, wide eyes as they entered the bedroom. My stomach revolted and I stumbled a step back. “Please, stay back.”
“What’s going on?” Jane asked.
“She’s my life,” Jackson said.
“She’s my everything,” Mr. Sande said.
Tears burned my eyes and I shook my head. “No, no …” This couldn’t be happening again.
Both men kept on coming, slowly and dazed, like zombies.
Jane stopped between them and me. “What’s happening?”
“I don’t know,” I croaked.
Then Mrs. Sande was at the door. “Richard? Jackson? What are you doing?”
“You’re perfect,” Jackson said.
“You’re everything,” Mr. Sande said.
Her eyes narrowed, Mrs. Sande looked from them to me. “What did you do?”
My heart seized. “What? Nothing!”
In two steps, both men would reach me. On impulse, I stepped on Jane’s bed, jumped down on the other side, and ran to the door.
Mrs. Sande caught my arm. “What have you done?”
“Nothing,” I cried again.
Both men turned and walked toward me again.
“I need her,” Jackson said.
“Give her to me,” Mr. Sande said.
“Get out of my house!” Mrs. Sande yelled. “Now!”
Afraid of her fury, and of whatever would happen if the men caught me, I raced down the stairs. I stopped long enough to pick up my shoes at the entrance closet before I ran out the door.
I came to an abrupt stop on the sidewalk. Tears brimmed in my eyes as I glanced around to the dark, deserted street. I had never felt so lost and alone before.
Eight
Nathan
I knew Willow Harbor like the back of my hand, or better really, but I had never felt more lost while I drove around looking for Brooke.
After stopping by Anna’s and taking her potion, I went back to the library. Delpha had just called me to inform me she had lost Brooke. Apparently, Pierce had shown up and since Delpha wanted to keep him from seeing Brooke in case he fell under her spell, she had stepped away from Brooke for a minute, leaving Brooke alone with Mattie. Mattie had been called by Vicky, her boss and Pierce’s mother, leaving Brooke alone. Sure as hell, Brooke bailed. Delpha thought she would find Brooke easily, but after a few minutes looking, she got busy with work. She couldn’t even call me to let me know Brooke was gone.
I didn’t blame Delpha, but I was mad at myself for not taking Brooke with me, or figuring out somewhere safer to take her. Somewhere she couldn’t have escaped.
I went to all possible places—the bookstore, Ida’s Bakery, and all other places downtown—and everyone said the same thing: Brooke had stopped by and asked if anyone could help her find her nameless, faceless father, but now she was gone.
Despair gripped my chest as I drove street by street, block by block, looking for her.
I didn’t want to consider if I was anxious because a siren unaware of her powers was roaming around town alone, or if it was simply because it was Brooke—whatever that meant.
I had driven all over the south side of town already. I made my way back to the square, circled it twice, and then headed to the north side. I gripped the wheel and gritted my teeth. Why had I left her alone? I shouldn’t have …
My car’s headlights illuminated a figure up ahead. I slowed down and leaned into the wheel, trying to get a better look.
A beautiful girl with long, dark hair walked down the sidewalk, her eyes downcast and her arms around herself.
A jolt cut through me as I realized that even from this distance, even safe inside my car, even after taking Anna’s potion, I still thought Brooke was beautiful.
Not just beautiful, but breathtakingly stunning.
I stopped my car beside her.
She flinched as I opened the door, as if she was ready to bolt.
“Nathan,” she breathed, her eyes wide. A tear trickled down her face.
An urge to embrace her hit me square in the chest. “What happened?”
She took another step back. “You should stay away,” she said, her voice breaking.
“Brooke, what happened?”
Another tear escaped her beautiful eyes and she wiped them away furiously. “I … I don’t know. I can’t explain.”
I let out a long breath. Shit, I knew bad things would happen if I left her alone. “Is it the same kind of thing that happened with Robbie five
years ago?”
Her eyes bugged. “How … Why …” She sucked in a sharp breath. “It was you. The guy who saved Robbie. It was you.”
I nodded. “It was me. And if you come with me, I can explain what’s happening.” It was time she knew. I offered my hand to her. “Let’s get out of here and I’ll explain everything.”
She glanced at my hand, suspicious. “I’m not sure I should …”
“If you’re worried it’s gonna happen again, don’t. I can feel it before it takes hold and I can snap out of it.” I hoped. “If you’re worried about your safety, I promise you, you have nothing to fear. I’ll treat you the same way I did earlier today.” I jutted my hand out. “Please, come with me.”
I wouldn’t use force, but I also couldn’t let her get away. If she insisted on not coming with me, I would follow her and approach her again when she was feeling safer in public.
She wiped at her face again, then wiped her hands in her jeans. Still looking at me a little wary, she slipped her hand in mine. “Okay,” she whispered.
Showing her I was one of the good guys, I opened the door of my car to her. She slid past me and into the car as a breeze blew. A few strands of hair whipped back, bringing in her sweet lavender perfume. Another urge to touch her, to keep holding her hand hit me, and I wondered if Anna’s potion was too weak or if its effect was already gone.
I took Brooke to the best place I could think of—the willow tree.
Before leaving the car, I handed her a blanket. She wrapped it around herself and, together, we walked until we were under the tree’s low branches.
She sat down on the frozen grass, the blanket folded underneath her, and looked at the tree.
“It’s so peaceful here.” Little puffs of frozen air came out of her mouth.
I nodded, sitting a few feet from her. The cold from the grass seeped through my pants, but right now, I didn’t care. “This tree is a big part of town.”
“I’m from here, remember? I know the tree is important to the town.”
“You don’t know what I know about it.”
She tilted her pretty head at me. “Does this have something to do with whatever freakiness is happening?”
Siren’s Song Page 5
