Robin in the Hood (Robbin' Hearts Series Book 1)

by Diane J. Reed

  To my astonishment, tears rimmed the corners of his eyes. My dad reached out his good hand and ran his fingers along my dark, jello-coated hair.

  “Bootifull . . . bootifull baybee gurrll,” he said with a quiet sincerity, admiring the long strands, despite their stickiness.

  I choked up in an instant.

  For once in my life, I was utterly speechless.

  “Go to the layk, Wobbin,” he whispered.

  It took a moment for him to roll his tongue back into position to talk again.

  “Everrthin be all rite. Jus go to the layk.”

  Chapter 4

  I shook my head as I walked alone through the thick woods, bewildered by my dad. It was like he’d put on a completely different face with me, one I’d never seen before. And he was so insistent that I go to the lake. Maybe he knew it was my only hope for a bath, or he thought I’d calm down once I cleaned up? Either way, it didn’t help matters that every time a twig snapped, I was terrified the TNT Twins might be at it again. Fortunately, I didn’t need a map after all to navigate their holes. The yellow circles of dry grass that polka-dotted the ground were enough to highlight their traps. I stepped gingerly around each one, keeping an eye out for any stray Attack Geese, when I spotted the sandy trail that led to the lake. Brushing aside a few honeysuckle branches, I pursued the path past a long bramble of twisted bushes and fallen sticks, when all of a sudden I saw it—

  The setting sun.

  Glowing gold across the water and shimmering on the wet sand.

  It was so beautiful it took my breath away.

  Before I realized it, I’d pressed my hand to my chest. Releasing a sigh, I let the sight fill me up for a few moments, feeling as if it could actually make my heart glisten inside. I closed my eyes for just a second, relishing the quiet. Then I glanced around.

  There wasn’t a soul by the shore, or even in boats on the lake. It was as if I’d stumbled upon my own, private retreat.

  I walked up to the water’s edge and sat down on the sand and stretched out my legs, allowing the warmth of the waning sun to soothe me a little, both inside and out. After such a crazy day, it felt good to let the calm of the gentle, lapping waves slowly seep into my bones. Leaning my head back, I heard the lonesome call of a bird overhead. When I glanced up, I saw a heron flapping its wide, gray wings.

  My dad was right. Everything was okay now.

  Remaining still, I noticed that the tree shadows had stretched into long lines across the lake. The darkening sky was inching towards twilight, so it crossed my mind that if I wanted to rinse myself off, I’d better go for a swim now before night fell.

  Taking a deep breath, I stood up and slipped off my shoes and socks and walked out into the water.

  It wasn’t nearly as cold as I’d expected.

  Wiggling my toes in the soft, silty soil, I got bolder, and I took a few steps into the lake until I was up to my waist.

  I waded deeper to my chest. Then to my shoulders.

  And I began to giggle.

  Not only was I up to my neck in some forgotten lake in the middle of nowhere, but there wasn’t a thing anyone at Pinnacle could do about it! With a giant thrust of my legs, I glided forward, feeling completely . . .

  Free.

  Free for the first time in my whole life.

  There were no nannies or chaperones anymore. No society snoops masquerading as fundraisers or home room parents who secretly criticized every little thing I did. I was totally on my own out here.

  And I loved it!

  The only problem was that my heavy wool cardigan and pleated skirt felt like dead weights against my skin. I had half a mind to peel them from my body and let them float off into oblivion.

  Feeling mischievous, I peeked around. What would it hurt? Absolutely no one was here, and the sky had gotten dark enough that a few stars had begun to twinkle. Scanning the horizon, I spotted a light shining over the tree tops that I was pretty sure marked the entrance to Turtle Shores, so I felt confident that I could find my way back. Giggling again, I peeled off my thick sweater, then unbuttoned my polo shirt and pulled it over my head. Wriggling my skirt from my hips, I was down to my Pinnacle-issue bra and underwear, which covered more skin than most old ladies’ swimsuits. I clutched my heavy uniform to my chest and swam awkwardly back to the shore and tossed the bundle onto the sand. With a few strong breast strokes that I’d finally mastered after years of enforced swim lessons, I headed to the middle of the lake, relishing the feel of the smooth water gliding over my skin. Pausing for a moment to catch my breath, I glanced up at the rising moon and smiled.

  “Hello, beautiful,” I said, just drinking it all in.

  “That’s exactly what I was about to say.”

  I whipped around, swallowing way too much lake water. It tasted like lukewarm algae—

  Oh my God—it was HIM!

  Golden hair slicked back by the water. Rough-cut features that appeared dewy in the twilight. And there was no mistaking those piercing blue eyes and that deep scar across his cheekbone that crinkled into the shape of a dagger when his lips curled into a smile. The way his eyes lit up at the sight of me made everything all too clear—

  All of a sudden, I realized it was no accident that he was beside me in Bender Lake.

  He must’ve been stalking me!

  Instantly, I curled my knees beneath my chest and thrust the biggest kick of my life in order to do a mad freestyle for the shore. Within seconds, I felt the guy’s elbow slip around my neck. He hugged me tight against his hard chest and engulfed me with his other arm until I couldn’t thrash at all, his powerful legs slowly pedaling to keep us afloat. Our heads were bobbing face to face, and I felt his rope-like muscles clamp down on me as tight as a cocoon, making me tremble. My chest heaved in a panic against his—cool skin against skin—but his strong arms kept me from moving an inch.

  “You took my bank,” he said.

  His words were barely above a whisper, but the fact that we were nose to nose and skin on skin made them ring inside my head like an alarm bell.

  “It wasn’t your bank!” I cried, wriggling as fiercely as I could and feeling like a caged animal. “As I recall, you dared me to do it—”

  Ha! I saw his intense, sapphire eyes narrow at that one, along with an indignant crease that formed over his eyebrows as he carefully studied my face. Sure, he might be drop-dead gorgeous in the twilight and scary-as-all-get-out, which was enough to unravel any young woman, but as his eyes searched mine, it hit me—

  He has no idea that the bingo lady gave me the money.

  So he must think I’m some kind of master criminal.

  Go, Geisha girl, go!

  I love being a good actress at times like this! With a proud, upward thrust of my chin, I squinted my eyes in my most mysterious gaze, then put on a cocky smirk, just to drive him crazy.

  “You know what the best part is about being an expert bank robber?” I said in a gloating tone, adding a wink to rub it in, “no one ever knows what you’re about to do next.”

  With that, I sunk my teeth into the black tattooed snake on his forearm and thrust my foot into his chest, giving him a fierce shove.

  Okay, so he was way too tough to scream. But his hold did release a little, and that’s all I needed. With laser focus, I broke free and headed to the shoreline like my life depended on it, my muscles burning with adrenaline. Two strokes, four strokes, hopefully all it would take was ten more! By the time I could feel the shore beneath my feet, and I stumbled to reach for my clothes on the sand, my heart was pumping so hard I thought it would explode. Quickly, I stood up and glanced over my shoulder for a second just to see how close behind me he was.

  But there was no one to be found—

  Anywhere.

  The lake was just as empty as it had been when I discovered it, the surface still as glass.

  Almost as if I’d imagined the whole thing.

  Gulping down breaths, I shook my head and leaned my hands on my knees for
a moment to get my bearings, hoping I hadn’t somehow lost my mind. Out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw one of the tree shadows waver a little over the lake. Laughter began to echo across the water.

  “Go ahead, try to run, Silver Spoon,” a voice called from somewhere in the twilight. “Where the hell do you think you’re gonna hide?”

  My feet drummed beneath me in the dark woods, and even though I’d thrown on my freezing cold and wet Pinnacle uniform in a rush, I still felt like my lungs had caught on fire. All around me were crooked silhouettes cast by the moonlight that I swear looked like those creepy trees from The Wizard of Oz. I half expected flying monkeys to zip by, when suddenly I heard an owl’s hoot that scared me so badly I had to stop in my tracks to keep from tripping. Regaining my balance, I swiveled on my heels and glanced up to search the evening sky. Where, oh where, was that outside light for Turtle Shores? Just minutes ago it was shining as bright as daylight above the trees. What kind of total idiot would turn it off at night? Unless—

  Unless—

  Stalker Guy shot it out on purpose with a slingshot . . . or something deadlier?

  All of a sudden, my mind began swimming with horror film images, picturing my body strewn in pieces on the forest floor . . .

  Stop it, Robin! I ordered myself. Don’t cave in to fear. If that guy wanted to kill you, he probably would’ve done it by now. So why didn’t he, what does he want?

  To scare the crap out of me?

  Check. He aced that one.

  To make me run in circles so he can laugh his ass off?

  Check, he’s got that covered, too.

  To follow me around and play mind games till he figures out how I got the money from the bank?

  Bingo!

  Pardon the pun, bingo lady, I thought, resuming my brisk pace through the woods. But if I have any brains whatsoever, I’d face the fact that Stalker Guy is probably watching me right now. Watching me and waiting patiently so that he can . . .

  Light my way home?

  What the—

  To my astonishment, I’d stumbled upon a clearing where there was a long row of illuminated, white paper sacks. Each one had a little candle in it, creating a warm glow that struck me as . . .

  Enchanting.

  I gasped, my hands rising to my cheeks like a little girl, as if I’d discovered a secret fairy glen. The lanterns were so simple, yet lovely, that I felt goose bumps alight on my skin. In the stillness of the forest, with only the sounds of crickets for company, the sight seemed almost—

  Sacred.

  Each soft light reminded me of the pretty votives that flickered beneath the gothic angel statues in the chapel back at Pinnacle. A bit wary, I took a couple of steps closer, only to realize that the lanterns had been strategically placed to shed light on where the TNT Twins’ traps were, so I wouldn’t fall in. If I followed them, I might find my way back to my trailer in no time.

  Or, Stalker Guy could be there waiting for me at the end of the line.

  Don’t be stupid! I scolded myself. You don’t know what this guy’s up to, and you don't want to lead him anywhere near your dad, so you’d better not do what he expects.

  Swallowing a deep breath, I took a hard left away from the clearing and started to run again. All right, so maybe I can’t see very well out here, I thought, but unless he’s got infra-red goggles, he can’t either. And at least that makes us even. I dodged half a dozen tree trunks in the moonlight, when I skidded in a patch of mud and found myself crashing into something very big and hard and black.

  Ouch. Christ almighty—

  I slumped to the moist ground, my head ringing.

  Crap. Just after I’d gotten cleaned up, too. Leaning forward, I rested my arms on my dirty knees for a second and rubbed my sore forehead.

  “For crying out loud,” I groaned in the darkness, “why can’t somebody just shoot me already?”

  Frustrated, I stretched out my muddy hand to feel what I’d run into, my fingers detecting a smooth, wooden panel. Then I brushed up against a long, thin arc with spindle-style spokes like a . . .

  A wagon wheel?

  To my surprise, a strange, orange glow hovered above me, almost like a firefly. It swiftly disappeared, and I could smell smoke—rich and musky and a little bit sweet, like my dad’s favorite brand of cigars.

  “I see you met Creek,” a rocky voice commented from the shadows.

  I nearly jumped out of my skin.

  How I leaped to my feet in less than a hundredth of a second defied the laws of physics. But as soon I was standing, I felt something hard hook around my neck, applying a sharp yank to keep me from bolting.

  “Hold on there, missy!” A woman’s voice cackled with a laugh.

  The more I struggled, the more I choked on the smooth curve of wood that kept me anchored in place, like a . . . a . . .

  Shepherd’s crook?

  What was this, some sicko fairy tale?

  When I grabbed at my neck to try and pull away, the woman gave me another jerk just to show she meant business. She tweaked my ear hard for good measure.

  “Ow! Ow—okay, okay!” I yelped, afraid she was about to clap me upside the head.

  “So, you fixin’ to mud wrestle with me all night out here?” the woman growled. “Or are you gonna come inside my wagon for a warm cup of tea?”

  I stiffened for a moment.

  Hmm . . . ear tweaking, or tea with Crazy Lady?

  For a split-second, I considered trying to kick myself free—if only I wasn’t still gagging on Loony Bo Peep’s hold around my neck. With that thought, she gave my ear another mean twist.

  “Ow—Tea! Tea!!” I cried.

  The woman cackled as if she were accustomed to such outbursts, which weirded me out even more. Thankfully, she released my ear and unhooked my neck, then wrapped her arm tight around my shoulders to guide me forward.

  Swell. There’s nothing like taking a little stroll in the middle of the night with a freaky stranger to keep your heart pumping. And just my luck, it was too dark to spot an escape route, let alone to see Stalker Guy any more.

  “Don’t you worry ’bout a thing, missy,” the woman said, as if she’d heard my thoughts. “Creek ain’t gonna hurt you so long as you’re with me.”

  I sighed, exasperated. “Who the hell is Creek? And can you please tell me why I should care?”

  The woman fell silent.

  I could hear her open a heavy door with a squeaky hinge, presumably to her wagon.

  “Well, I reckon them ain’t quite the right questions,” she said rather mysteriously.

  The orange glow lit up again and filled the night air with spicy smoke. To my surprise, the woman set a heavy hand on my shoulder and gave me jiggle, as if to wake me from a deep sleep.

  “What you really oughta be askin’ by now is—who in tarnation are you?”

  Chapter 5

  “I’m Robin,” I said defiantly, though the strange woman gave me a scrunched stare like she didn’t believe me. She puffed on her cigar, and I tried to wave away the smoke.

  “I see,” she replied, her lips curving into a smile.

  She set down her shepherd’s crook in a corner of her cramped, gypsy wagon that was filled with hanging herbs, dusty books, and jars of icky things like lizard’s feet and entrails. I watched as her black lace-gloved fingers skimmed a crystal ball on a shelf, and for the life of me, I thought I saw it cloud over. She turned to stare at me.

  Her eyes resembled a timberwolf’s. Their color was a peculiar, translucent gray with yellow in the middle, and they turned up slightly at the edges, as if caught in a permanent, predator’s glare. At this point, I was beginning to think stepping inside her wagon might have been the biggest mistake of my whole life.

  “Here, take one,” she insisted, picking up a deck of scuffed cards and handing them to me. She motioned for me to sit down at her rustic table while she did the same. I had to push aside a candelabra she’d lit with blood-red candles to make room for my elbows, p
aying special attention to avoid the flames with my hair.

  “I’m Granny Tinker, by the way,” she said, her voice a mixture of warmth and gravel.

  I’d noticed nobody used their last names around Turtle Shores, so her words gave me a start. The woman caught the look in my eyes and winked.

  So that must not be her real name, I realized. And she’s probably no grandma, either. Come to think of it, in the warm light of the candles, she looked more like a beautiful, aging rock star. Her thick, salt and pepper hair spilled luxuriously to her shoulders, and she wore a burgundy top hat with a peacock feather in it. Her black-velvet dress was held together by a long row of pearl buttons from her neck all the way down to her cinched waist. Overall, her appearance screamed boho—including the crimson granny boots she had on that laced up nearly to her knees.

  “It’s all right, Dooley,” she said, stealing a glance at the card I’d picked out and set face down on a paisley scarf on the table. “You can come join us now.”

  To my astonishment, a tow-headed little boy peeked from behind an old trunk. He had to brush aside several embroidered pillows to clear a path to stand to his feet, and that’s when I sucked air.

  Oh. My. God.

  He looked just like—

  Stalker Guy!

  Same messy blonde hair, same piercing blue eyes.

  Holy Christ, he even had a matching snake tattoo on his forearm.

  I couldn’t help it—I jumped to my feet. This had to be some kind of wacked-out circus act I’d wandered into.

  Before I could make a run for it, Granny Tinker grabbed me by the sleeve and gave me the coldest stare I’d ever seen in my life, so mesmerizing it was as if she’d clutched me by the throat and squeezed. Every fiber in her being seemed to say: Don’t you dare leave now and hurt this boy’s feelings, or I will personally kill you.

  Stunned, I gulped several breaths and found myself settling back down in front of her table before I knew what hit me. The silence in the wagon was so thick now that I feared I might somehow drown in it. Nevertheless, the little boy took a timid step towards us.