“Ivy I don’t think—”
“We all know you were spying on me and Nick in the woods,” she almost laughed. “Nick knew—”
“Ivy!” Harlow interrupted with unmistakable alarm in his tone. When she met his gaze, he shook his head ever so slightly.
The corner of her mouth turned up pleased with his reaction. “You're lucky Nick told Blake and Dean to back down. Though that would have been interesting,” she mused.
Harlow's head tipped back and he dragged a hand down his face. “Ivy,” he groaned in frustration.
“My point is,” she continued, ignoring Harlow's complaint, “you know I’m a witch so I assumed that also meant—”
“Nothing!” Harlow shouted over the top of her. He and Ivy shared a silent exchange. Harlow's expression clearly read stop talking, while Ivy appeared amused by his sudden outburst.
“Oh relax, Harlow,” Ivy rolled her eyes, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
“I haven't told anyone. And I wasn’t spying!” I interjected. “I mean a witch? Are you ser—” But before I could finish my thought, Ivy vanished back into the other room and returned seconds later with a candle. Setting it firmly on the countertop, she took a step back.
Harlow buried his face in his hands. “Is this really necessary?” he asked, sounding as irritated as he looked when his hands fell to his sides again.
Ignoring him, Ivy closed her eyes and exhaled a long breath. Her mouth moved rapidly as if she were speaking, but no sound came out. Seconds later, with a tiny pop, the candle on the counter lit up. She opened her eyes and offered me a satisfied grin.
Hardly amused I said, “Neat trick.” not bothering to hide my disdain. At this point, I’d had enough of Ivy’s attitude, and quite frankly I didn’t even understand why Harlow thought he needed to bring me here. “I’m out of here,” I announced, rounding the kitchen island and stomping off toward the mudroom.
“Rayna, wait!” Harlow yelled after me, but I was already half way to the door.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ivy flick her wrist and the door slammed shut inches from my face. I blinked in shock and before I could react further, something tugged at the back of my shirt, dragging me backward on my heels. I scrambled to grab for whatever had hold of me, only to realize nothing was there. An invisible force slid me across the kitchen floor until I was standing back where I'd started in stunned silence.
“Believe me now?” Ivy sneered, raising one eyebrow.
I couldn't wrap my head around any of it. Witches and magic? The stuff fairy tales were made of? Only this wasn't a fairytale, this was real life. This was Harbor Glenn. I stood there in stunned silence for what could have passed as an eternity before I finally tried to speak, but Harlow spoke first.
“You don’t have to dignify her with a response.”
“This isn’t a joke, Rayna,” Ivy addressed me with an air of authority, standing a little taller. “We need to make sure you understand how important it is that you don’t tell anyone about who, what, or even where you saw us. If the wrong people were to find out about anything you overheard there would be real consequences.”
My eyes darted to Harlow and back. “Are you threatening me?”
“No,” Ivy replied coolly. “I'm talking about Harlow. If you consider him a friend—”
“That's enough, Ivy,” Harlow chided, avoiding my eyes.
The implication that Harlow was in some kind of trouble made me uneasy. “What kind of consequences?” I pressed, all-the-while wondering what I'd gotten myself into by allowing Harlow to bring me here.
Ivy seemed unmoved by the question as she crossed the kitchen, stopping in front of the table. “I’ve said my piece,” Ivy commented, meeting my gaze, “and I trust Rayna doesn't believe any of this enough to say anything to anyone anyway. Whatever else you tell her is on you,” she warned, sliding the box of books off the table and cradling it in her arms. “I have more important things to focus on, so I’ll let myself out. Don’t forget Nick should be back in about an hour or so. And call me when you're done here. I could use your help!” she shouted from the mudroom before the door leading into the garage swung shut behind her.
Harlow turned his attention to me. “Are you okay?”
The question was simple enough, but my mind was still reeling from everything I had just witnessed. “Yeah…” I managed; keeping my eyes down, after a long silence had passed between us.
“Rayna,” Harlow regarded me, his voice low and cautious.
“Sorry,” I apologized, slowly regaining the confidence to look at him again. “I’m just trying to make sense of everything,” I admitted, slowly lowering myself onto a barstool.
“Don’t,” Harlow said, keeping his tone light as he pulled the refrigerator door open. “Do you want a glass of water?”
“No, thanks, I’m fine. So...” I trailed off. “Ivy is a witch? Like wands and chanting and what not?” I didn’t try to hide my disbelief.
Harlow turned back to face me. “No wand. At least not that I'm aware of,” he replied in an attempt to lighten the mood. “I honestly wasn’t expecting her to be so blunt about it. I apologize for that. I just wanted the two of you to officially meet all things considered...”
I sighed. “Please don’t tell me you’re a witch… or a warlock… or whatever, too.” If he threw that into the mix, I wasn’t sure I could handle it.
“That would be a hard no.”
“But there is something different about you?” I fished for an answer. “Rayna, I like having friends that don’t know about that part of my life. It makes me feel normal.”
“But if I asked would you tell me?”
Harlow scrutinized my face.
“This isn’t me asking,” I clarified. “I’m just pre-asking. I guess…”
Harlow relaxed a little. “Someday. Maybe. It's probably not a good idea, though, if I'm being honest.”
“You just helped Ivy Branson tell me she's a witch and you think, somehow, whatever skeletons you're hiding are worse?” I argued, hoping he'd see the absurdity.
The space between Harlow's eyebrow's creased in thought. “Rayna—,”
“You don't have to tell me today, or tomorrow, or the day after that. I guess I was just hoping for a little more than maybe someday.”
Harlow reached over and touched my hand, his eyes locking intently on mine as he spoke, “Rayna I promise I will tell you when the time is right.”
At first, I said nothing, distracted by the familiar hum of his touch. Then, “Fair enough. So, back up, what was that bit about keeping all of this to myself or it could cause problems? Of course I won’t tell anyone, but what kind of consequences are we talking about here?”
“Honestly, I wish I knew the answer to that myself,” Harlow replied, his tone deflated. Ending the conversation there, he headed into the next room and I followed.
The living room mirrored the aesthetic of the rest of the house with a mostly brown and tan color palette. Nature paintings hung on the walls and a row of succulents decorated the wooden mantle.
Harlow moved to sit down on the brown leather sectional, and I plopped down beside him.
“Thanks for sticking up for me, by the way,” I said as my gaze drifted around the room. “So, is this where you grew up?”
“On and off, it’s all a part of my complicated life; I may have mentioned it.”
“Once or twice,” I smiled.
“Nick and I are on our own now, but you already knew that. We lost our parents a few years ago, and our grandparents more recently. They left this house to Nick and me in their will.” He paused for several long minutes, staring at the floor. And for a second, I thought he might be upset.
“Are you okay?”
Harlow shook his head as if to shake away his thoughts. “Yeah,” he paused again. “I just don’t talk about that part of my life very much.”
“I don’t mean to pry,” I said apologetically.
He moved closer to me on the cou
ch. “I was thirteen. Nick was seventeen. We were visiting our grandparents here that summer,” Harlow's eyes traced the room. “My parents left one afternoon to take a walk in the woods and never came back. The police never found their bodies. They just,” Harlow stopped mid-thought, “disappeared,” he said after a beat, sadness evident in his tone. “I guess that’s part of the reason I spend so much time out there. Maybe I'm crazy, but part of me hopes I might run into them out there or I’ll find something the investigators missed.”
I hesitated before speaking. “I thought you said your parents passed away?” I said softly.
“Did I?” he almost laughed. “It could be true. Sometimes it’s just easier to say that than explain the full story.” There was a lull in conversation as Harlow considered his next words. “After it happened, Nick and I moved in with our dad’s brother Mark, in New Brunswick. We stopped spending summers in Harbor Glenn after that.” Harlow shrugged, “It was just too hard to come back.”
“Wow, Harlow, I’m so sorry you had to go through that.” Boy did I feel like a jerk for complaining about my parents being hard on me when Harlow didn’t even have parents.
“It feels like a long time ago. Besides, everything happens for a reason, right? Your past leads you right to where you’re supposed to be. If my parents hadn't vanished, would my grandparents still have left Nick this house? Would I have met you? Probably not.”
“Probably not,” I repeated. After a beat, I said, “I still can’t believe you spent all those summers here and we never crossed paths,” I smiled at the irony because since we’d met, Harlow and I had a funny way of always crossing paths.
“I wasn’t kidding when I said I had a very secluded life up until recently, if I’m being honest.”
Unable to shake my curiosity I asked, “So what made you come back now?”
His lips curved into a sad smile. “This house. The plan was to fix the place up a bit before putting it on the market. Then Nick met a girl,” he shrugged, “and, well, we're still here. If it weren’t for this house, we’d probably still be in New Brunswick; which is probably where we should be.”
“How come?” I asked automatically.
Harlow shook his head unwilling to elaborate.
“Because it’s complicated,” I answered for him.
Harlow huffed. “Shit, you must think I'm ridiculous,” he said sounding frustrated with himself as he rubbed the back of his neck.
“No,” I replied, my tone peaking a little in remorse.
“I want to tell you. I do. But telling you doesn't just affect me.”
Harlow's words from our argument in the woods came back to me. He had said that he didn't want his secret to change my opinion of him. But what he didn't realize was that was next to impossible. “You mean Ivy?” I offered.
“Not just her. There's also my brother to consider.”
Having met Nick once before, and witnessing the way he had treated Ivy in the woods, made it all too clear that whatever secrets Harlow harbored were better kept to himself rather than risk facing his brother's temper. “Forget I asked, you don’t owe me an explanation.”
A soft smile touched the corner of his mouth. He seemed truly relieved that I'd let him off the hook.
“So you and Ivy seem pretty close,” I commented in a suggestive tone.
“When Nick and I used to visit our grandparents here as kids, Ivy lived just down the street. We’ve known her almost our entire lives. It’s not what you might think, Rayna,” he explained in a non-abrasive tone, assuring me that any assumptions contrary to friendship were completely off base.
Our eyes met, and something surged within me, awakening every nerve ending in my body. I didn't realize I was capable of feeling any more alert than I already did. I felt so transparent when he held my gaze like that—like he could see into my soul. Harlow's eyes said more of the hardships he’d endured than any of his words as if he held the weight of the world on his shoulders. I wanted to know so much more. What went on behind those hazel eyes? But it had taken this long for him to open up just a little bit and I worried that if I dug any deeper he’d close up again.
Harlow fidgeted with something hidden just underneath the collar of his t-shirt.
“Nervous habit?” I guessed, nodding toward his pinched fingers against the fabric of his shirt.
Harlow appeared briefly unaware, and a pang of regret hit me for pointing it out. “I didn’t realize I was…” he broke off. Reaching into his shirt, he revealed an iron pendant on a leather strap.
Up until this moment, I had never even noticed the necklace. “What’s that?”
“It’s an old family heirloom. The last thing my dad gave me before he disappeared. I almost never take it off,” he explained, rubbing the pendant between his fingers as he spoke.
“May I?”
Without a second thought, Harlow pulled the strap from around his neck and handed me the necklace.
I examined the pendant closely. It was made up of two off center crescents with a solid iron sphere between them. The divots between the three pieces were blackened and worn with age. Turning the pendant over in my palm, the name Payne had been etched across the back of the sphere. The P was wearing away, most likely from being rubbed down as I had just witnessed Harlow do. “This is amazing. What’s the meaning behind it?”
“Dunno,” he replied as I handed it back to him. “It’s almost like a family crest or something,” he told me as he put the pendant back around his neck, hiding it beneath his shirt again.
I kept my eyes on the just noticeable bulge in his shirt. “You keep it hidden,” I said in the form of a question.
“Can you imagine what people would think if I didn’t?”
A breathy laugh escaped me at that. “You think it's gaudy!”
Harlow smiled back at me. “I think we should get out of here. Nick will be home soon.”
“Your brother isn’t very fond of me, is he?” I surmised as we got up to leave.
“He doesn’t know you. He only knows of you. Don’t take it personally, Nick is suspicious of everyone. He and Ivy are kind of like two sides of the same coin.”
“Well, you can tell him I’m not about to go around telling everyone what I heard,” I shrugged, “seeing as how I currently have the entire school in a state of grief over something else.”
We left the house through the garage again and headed toward the Vista Cruiser. Harlow opened the passenger door and waited for me to get in before sweeping around to the driver's side.
In no time at all, we were parked in front of my house. “I had a good time with you today, Rayna. Thanks for coming over. And being so understanding about the whole Ivy thing.”
Although understanding wasn't the word I would have used, I said, “No problem. I enjoyed it, too. We should do it again sometime.”
Harlow held onto my hand a moment longer before pulling his hand away with his gaze. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said as I got out of the car.
I had made it halfway to the front door when I heard the car door slam.
“Rayna! Wait up!” Harlow called as he jogged toward me and I blinked at him in confusion. He reached me in a few strides but didn’t slow his speed.
“What are you—” I began to ask, but in one swift, gentle motion he collided with me, cupping the back of my head in his hand and kissed me. Kissed me hard, like this was the last time we'd ever see each other and he didn't want the moment to end. So caught up in the fact that his mouth was on mine, I almost forgot to close my eyes; and when I did, I sunk into him wrapping my arm around the back of his neck and gliding my fingers through his dark hair. My whole body felt like a live wire. He wrapped his other arm around the small of my back, pulling me closer to him. The kiss went on for what seemed like hours and yet, when he inevitably pulled away, it wasn’t enough. My head was still spinning when he dipped forward, resting his forehead against mine.
“Go to winter formal with me,” he whispered between shallow bre
aths. There was no mistaking the smile in his tone.
“Mhmm,” was all I could manage after just having had my breath taken away.
Harlow laughed quiet and breathless. “Is that a yes?”
“Of course!” I beamed up at him once I had reached the ground again. “Though I have to admit, you don’t exactly strike me as the school dance type.”
He grinned down at me. “I guess you bring it out in me.”
I blushed in response, dropping my gaze to my feet.
“I hope I'm not being too forward,” Harlow paused. “I’ve wanted to—”
Now it was my turn to kiss him unexpectedly and just like that he was the speechless one. For the first time in months, I felt whole again. As if a piece of me had been missing for so long since meeting him, and in this moment, it fell right into place.
chapter seven
I SPOTTED LACEY AND ARIANNA ALREADY SEATED AT our usual booth as soon as I entered Beach’s Pizzeria. Reaching the table, I slid in next to Arianna.
“What’s the big emergency?” Lacey probed before I even had my coat off.
Despite my uncertainty about how Lacey would react—other than the few terrible scenarios my imagination had conjured up—I wanted her to hear about the kiss from me. This way, Victoria Brown would be forced to rely on a source other than herself if she wanted to break this story, giving her less of an opportunity to spin the truth. “This isn’t a life or death meeting, guys, I just have something to tell you,” I explained placidly, making direct eye contact with Lacey. “And I wanted you to hear what I have to say directly from me before you hear it from anyone else.”
Lacey and Arianna exchanged a look of concern.
“Is it another rumor situation?” Arianna probed.
I shook my head. “No,” I replied, frowning at the memory, “but it does involve Harlow.” I let that sink in before continuing “Well, it’s actually about both of us…” I trailed off suggestively, hoping they would take the hint.
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