Through The Water: Fairest Series Book Two

by Myers, Shannon

Tristan wanted to use me as an asset to line his pockets.

  Brad wanted me broken and in chains.

  Morgan wanted me to use my flesh to secure my freedom.

  Helen wanted to use me for her own amusement.

  But what about me—what did I want?

  I squeezed my eyes shut, clenching my fist around the gardening trowel as I fought to hear my own voice over all the noise in my head. The volume reached a brief fever pitch, and when silence descended like a stage curtain, I found myself staring into a pair of glacial blue eyes.

  Him.

  I wanted Killian—a man who didn’t want me to be someone I wasn’t. A protector. I’d spent my life surrounded by fakes, starving for something real. Something deep.

  Unfortunately, he was probably under the assumption I was a complete loon by now.

  “There you are, young lady,” Helen crowed as she approached the table. “I was just thinking to myself that I hadn’t seen your face around today. How did your little thing go last night?”

  Her upper lip curled, and it took everything in me not to launch the trowel at her face. Whatever doubts I might have had were gone now. The woman had intentionally set me up to fail.

  I set my jaw against the wave of heat spreading up my throat and clutched the pendant around my neck, struggling to quash the familiar flare of humiliation. Touching the engraved tentacles had become something of a nervous habit lately, but I liked to imagine it was my talisman.

  So far, it wasn’t that great at warding off evil.

  Fury scorched my chest and rained ash down on my tongue, but I was a girl with no voice. I opened my mouth, only to sigh in exasperation.

  Even if I could have told Helen exactly what I thought of her actions, it would have been pointless. The blame rested on my shoulders. I should have known better than to take advice from a woman who dyed the back of her hair jet black while leaving the front white.

  She was a skunk, both in looks and behavior.

  “You ready?” Tsega asked, her forehead creasing. I couldn’t decide whether it was in concern or disappointment. I imagined everyone in the building was aware of my failed attempt at dress-up.

  She squeezed my hand when I nodded and began returning the gardening tools to a small wagon nearby. I handed her a shovel, spotting the headline on one of the old newspapers lining the table.

  MVP Candidate Killian Reed’s Future Questionable.

  Killian.

  At first, I was convinced I imagined his name. After reading the headline twice, I began to realize what a fool I’d been to think that he and I could have worked. It was almost laughable.

  The baseball star and the martyr.

  We may as well have resided on different planets.

  In my haste to learn as much as I could of his injury and what it meant for the Hurricanes, I’d temporarily forgotten I wasn’t alone.

  “Not such a catch now, is he?” Helen taunted, clicking her tongue against her teeth. “You know, in my day, we had a no-nonsense approach to dating that you young girls seem to be missing. We accepted nothing less than everything, while your lot is hung up on money and status. It’s pathetic.”

  In twenty-four hours, I’d gone from being clueless to completely indiscriminate when it came to the opposite sex. This, from a woman who’d been married four times.

  “She didn’t know who he was,” Tsega contended, branding a gardening fork like a weapon.

  Her smirk faded. “Wait—you didn’t know who he was?”

  I touched the inked words again and shook my head.

  “Oh, I bet you thought you were special,” she cackled, her face twisting into a hideous sneer. “You know, I called it the day you arrived. I told Margaret and the girls that you were going to latch onto the baseball player and bring trouble. You’re just lucky you went after him and not Arthur, or things would have been much worse for you, missy.”

  The rules might have been a little different, but this world was no different than my own. It seemed ugly people existed just about anywhere. The Helens of the world were always going to be there, judging and finding me lacking.

  It only hurts if you let it…

  I released a breath through my nostrils, my molars cracking audibly as they came together. For a moment, I forgot to be Ariana James. Instead, I imagined myself as Anne Shirley in Anne of Green Gables, fully capable of breaking a slate over Gilbert Blythe’s head to stop his teasing.

  While I didn’t have a slate lying around, I did have a pot of mums that would do nicely for what I had in mind. Because, for the first time ever, the adrenaline coursing through my body and tightening my muscles wasn’t in response to fear.

  It was because I was pissed off and not in the mood to be bullied.

  Not by Helen.

  Not by Brad.

  Not anymore.

  “That’s enough,” Tsega said coldly. “You oughta be ashamed of yourself”—

  Helen shook her head in disgust. “For what? I did her a favor, really. Men like Killian only want one thing. Sex. He’s surrounded by gorgeous women all the time and a weak little thing like her—you know as well as I do, she’d be eaten alive. I doubt he’d even have to pay her off to keep quiet after, because who would ever believe her?”

  Who would believe me?

  It was a question that had kept me in chains most of my life. What this woman thought of me should have been none of my concern, but I was struck with an overwhelming urge to defend myself. I wanted to watch her choke on the hateful words as I told her the things I’d endured at the hands of Tristan and Brad.

  Because I was not a weak person.

  And she wouldn’t have lasted a day in my shoes.

  “We’re leaving.” Tsega tossed the remainder of the tools in the wagon before turning back to Helen with a scowl. “Ariana is one of the sweetest people you’ll ever meet, but instead of taking the time to get to know her, you tricked—”

  The old woman rolled her eyes. “Blah, blah, blah. Shouldn’t you be off, I don’t know, worshiping a cow or something? Isn’t that what you people—” Her words cut off in a sudden shriek as the clod of dirt connected with her cheek.

  I calmly wiped the soil from my hand and straightened before nodding to Tsega. Let’s go.

  Helen sat in openmouthed silence for several seconds before roaring, “I will sue you, young lady! Help, I’ve been assaulted! Somebody help me!”

  We left her squawking at the table, scurrying back toward my room like a pair of criminals. Tsega took the flowerpot from my hands and placed it on the counter before doubling over.

  “The look on her face,” she wheezed, her eyes streaming with tears. “I can’t believe you did that! Are you okay? You won’t get in trouble. I’ll tell them the things she said.”

  It wasn’t that.

  What happened with Helen had been a long time coming.

  My mind was still reeling over the news that Killian was a baseball player. I’d wanted to flee the church, only to run right to another spotlight. The t-shirts and thinking I wanted an autograph—and suddenly, the weird jaw kiss was not the most mortifying thing I’d ever done.

  The breath caught in my throat, and I swallowed.

  I wanted—

  God help me, I wanted Killian.

  In a spectacularly stupid move, I’d developed feelings for a man known all over the world. Overwhelmingly chaotic emotions that had chosen to reveal themselves at the worst possible time.

  I’d fallen for a baseball player with pretty eyes and a kind heart, thinking we could live happily-ever-after in a place Tristan would never find us.

  How was that for naïveté?

  * * *

  “You want to tell me again what we’re doing here?” Tsega asked as she knocked on the door.

  I shook my head, bouncing my legs lightly in anticipation.

  “No,” she repeated with a strange smile. “Okay. What if we talk about, I don’t know, maybe Killian being in your room last night? Or perhaps, your sexy
smile?”

  In hindsight, trusting the night aide, Sierra, to keep a secret hadn’t been my best idea. I didn’t know what to do—feign ignorance and hope she didn’t tell anyone, or come clean and hope she didn’t tell anyone?

  I licked my lips and took a deep breath just as Georgia called, “Come in!”

  Tsega turned her hand against her lips before dropping the imaginary key into the pocket of her scrubs. “Your secret is safe with me.”

  I nodded, grateful that I had at least one thing working in my favor.

  Georgia’s room was the only place I knew to go where I didn’t run the risk of another awkward run-in. My suspicion that Killian was avoiding me was confirmed when he saw me in the hallway, frowned, and then made a hobbled beeline in the opposite direction.

  Clearly, I’d made a mess of everything.

  Georgia was reclining in an oversized chair near the television, flipping through a magazine. Her hand lifted in a brief wave when we entered before she sat up to jot something down in a small notebook. “Oh, hello, girls. What brings you here?”

  I peered down at the colorful pages spread across her lap before grabbing my notebook. The scenery changed from one photo to the next, but there were smiling faces in every one.

  What are you doing?

  Georgia reached out for me, and I wheeled myself closer. “Still haven’t found your voice, dear? I was just certain last night would have been a turning point for you.”

  I shook my head, my face heating in shame.

  As if she was the embodiment of happiness, the sides of Georgia’s mouth stretched wide. “This is for my trip. My hip injury set me back a few months—word of advice, don’t let anyone tell you that skiing is something that just comes back to you, because it’s not. Had to learn that the hard way, dear. Anywho, now that you’re here, would you like to help?”

  I hesitated as she passed a magazine over.

  But I don’t know where you want to go.

  “Oh, everywhere, dear,” she answered readily. “I want to see the northern lights from a glass igloo in Finland… feast on Danish pastries on the island of Aero in Denmark… discuss the principles of Buddhism at a monastery in Thailand. I am not going to miss a single thing this world has to offer.”

  I imagined my mouth was hanging open in shock. Everything Georgia had just described sounded too good to be true.

  “What about you? What is it you want to see?” She tapped the magazine. “Go on, take a look.”

  After flipping through several pages, I finally settled on a picturesque village surrounded by mountains and water.

  This.

  She looked it over. “Ah, The Lofoten Islands in Norway. Can you imagine—staying in a little cottage near the water and eating fresh fish for dinner every night?”

  Georgia added something to her notebook with a dreamy expression, as if she could clearly envision herself doing just that. Meanwhile, I couldn’t see myself anywhere but inside the church, and that frustrated me.

  I swallowed and cleared my throat to get her attention.

  Last night you said that Helen focused too much on the rules.

  “I also said she was quite a piece of work, but it’s true. She’s hung up on the way things used to be done, while people your age live in an age of instant gratification.”

  Which way is right?

  Georgia patted my knee. “No one can decide that but you, Ariana. I imagine you could drive yourself mad, trying to compare the two. The best thing to do is just to be yourself and let the rest sort itself out.”

  My pen dug into the paper.

  That’s just it. You saw me last night. I think it’s pretty clear that being myself doesn’t work. He’s a baseball player, and I’m—

  A hostage of my faith.

  A nobody. As much as I want to be myself, it’s not that simple. I’m not good enough as-is.”

  Georgia nodded to herself. “You think that just because he’s famous that he wouldn’t look twice at a girl like you. See, that tells me we have quite a bit of work to do.”

  I blew out a frustrated breath.

  Makeup? Hair? I tried it already.

  Her eyes flashed with amusement. “No, no. Nothing silly like that. Last night wasn’t you—that was Helen. Now, it seems to me that you’ve gotten comfortable being what everyone else wants. But if you knew who you were, my dear, you’d see that it’s young Killian who should be questioning if he’s good enough for you.”

  I let the notion sink in before shaking my head, unable to imagine Killian second-guessing himself on anything, especially not where I was concerned.

  He’s avoiding me.

  “And?” Georgia waved a hand dismissively. “Find out why.”

  My vision blurred. I already knew why.

  He doesn’t want anything to do with me.

  Her eyes squinted as she read the words before chuckling to herself. “You’re just willing to give up then? Throw in the towel now that you know who he really is?”

  Yes.

  No. As much as I wanted Killian to mean something for me, I had to consider the ramifications of pursuing my feelings. I would be giving up any chance of hiding, any chance of never being found.

  And yet, I still wanted him.

  More than I’d ever wanted anything.

  “Imagine if Nickie had given up on Terry when she didn’t show up at the Empire State Building,” Georgia said with a thoughtful frown. “If the movie had ended with him assuming she was avoiding him or had changed her mind.”

  I don’t know Terry or Nickie, for that matter.

  At least, I didn’t think I did. Maybe they were the people she’d been sitting with at dinner before rescuing me from myself.

  The woman scoffed. “An Affair to Remember, Ariana! Surely you know one of the most romantic movies of all time?”

  I shook my head, skeptical that a movie fitting my circumstances even existed. It didn’t exactly seem like a standard plotline.

  “Oh, dear. Well, we are going to remedy that right now. I know they’ve got it in the video library downstairs. Tsega, dear, please tell me you’ve seen it.”

  She looked almost guilty as she shook her head. “I don’t really watch a lot of television.”

  “Girls!” Georgia all but roared with a grin. “How do you expect to find love if you aren’t brushing up on the classics? They’re practically how-to guides. Just maybe don’t rely on them for fashion advice, right Ariana?”

  I cringed. It seemed I wouldn’t be living that down anytime soon.

  * * *

  One trip to the library, and two hours later, the three of us sat sniffling our way through the end credits.

  “You see—” Georgia tried before hiccuping. “I just—”

  I clenched her hand in mine and nodded, knowing exactly what she meant. While the only similarity between Killian and Nickie was the fact that they were both well-known—one for baseball, the other for his love of women—the story resonated, nonetheless.

  “Isn’t it just magical? ‘If you can paint, I can walk.’” She clutched her chest and fell back dramatically in the chair. “In case either of you were wondering, that was a swoon and not some medical emergency.”

  Tsega brushed away the tears on her cheeks with a grin. “I think we caught on to that, Georgia.”

  “Good. Good. Now, Ariana. Instead of fixating on how you don’t feel as if you belong in Killian’s world, have you considered things from his perspective? He’s surrounded by actors every day. How refreshing would it be to spend time with someone who didn’t want something from him? Someone who wasn’t using him?”

  I fiddled with my necklace before giving her a reluctant nod. Inside, I was being eaten up with guilt. I’d wanted to use Killian as a means of escape. At least I had in the beginning.

  She yawned and stretched her arms overhead. “Now that I’ve had a nice cry, I require a nap. And you—you’re going to be yourself, and then you’re going to go get your Nickie!”

&nb
sp; Be myself.

  Tsega wheeled me down the hall, slowing as she neared Killian’s door. “You want to knock, or should I?”

  I pointed to my temple and winced, my eyes flooding with fresh tears.

  “Oh, Ari,” she sighed. “Today has just been too much. Let’s get back to the room and rest.”

  God help me, it was a lie.

  The real Ariana was a fraud—no better than the other actors. Just because I’d changed my mind before I could go through with it didn’t give me an automatic second chance. Maybe my penance would be feeling this ache in my chest every time I saw him.

  As I looked at Killian’s door, I thought of Terry, trying to explain to Nickie how she’d gotten into an accident as she rushed to meet him at the Empire State Building.

  ‘Oh, it’s nobody’s fault but my own! I was looking up... it was the nearest thing to heaven! You were there…’

  The nearest thing to heaven…

  He was—but just as out of reach.

  12

  Killian

  “Progress always involves risks. You can’t steal second base and keep your foot on first.”

  -Frederick B. Wilcox

  The food at True North was supposed to be top of the line, yet I hadn’t tasted a single bite of my grilled chicken sandwich as I read over the text message my father had sent just before dawn.

  Until recently, Saturdays had always been designated parent days in his book. Now, it felt like he was calling me almost daily. I wondered if he had reminders set in his phone, or if the inclination to reach out to his wayward son just came naturally. Even my mama had been pleading with me to hear him out.

  Dad-

  Have you heard from the team? I think you need to put the pressure on Theo to handle this before the press forms their own opinions. Love you, but this can’t wait.