Forks Page 24
“Want to sit?”
“Sure.” His arm was heavy and I ducked out from under it and sat down on a big rock. It was warm under my butt.
He gave me a strange look and then sat down next to me.
“Why’s the rock warm?” I blurted stupidly.
“Oh.” He looked surprised. “It holds the heat from the sun,” he said. “And it’s a good place to dry fish too, if that’s what you’re into.”
I nodded, stared out into the ocean. “Good to know.” What is wrong with me? I sound like a broken record. “So,” I paused, and fidgeted with my jacket zipper. I was trying to figure out a way to broach the subject about Glinda and the night of the attack but wasn’t sure how to go about it.
Lucky exhaled and raked his hand through his hair. “Why do I get the feeling you didn’t come here to see me, exactly.”
“I did,” I said. “And I came for the tour, of course,” I added.
“Nothing else?” he prodded.
“Well, I did wonder about your real name,” I said, telling a half truth.
He gave me a doubtful look. “So why don’t you ask me?”
“Ask you what?”
“What my real name is.”
“Okay,” I breathed. “What’s your real name?”
“If I told you that I’d have to kiss you or… kill you.” He waggled his brows. “Which would you prefer?”
A shiver of unease spread over me and I pulled my jacket closer.
He waited.
“Ah…”
“Kidding,” he laughed and bumped shoulders with me.
“About which part exactly?” I asked my voice betraying my nervousness.
“Depends,” he breathed, his dark eyes glittered. He lifted his hand and brushed my hair over my shoulder.
“What does it, um,” I swallowed hard, “depend on?” His fingers brushed against my neck and another shiver raced up my spine, but not in a bad way.
“Whether you really want to know or if you are just using it as a way to get information out of me.”
My face immediately flamed. I felt like he could read my mind. “Of course, I want to know what your real name is,” I said, my voice too high, betraying me.
“Come on, Amber.” He shook his head.
“Fine,” I exhaled. “I wanted to ask you about the other night.”
“Ah,” he sighed. “I wondered when you were going to get to that.”
I looked at him in surprise. “How’d you know?”
“Just a feeling, I guess,” he said and shrugged. “So what do you want to know?”
“Are you the one that saved my friend, Glinda?”
“Wow.” He shook his head. “The one you left?”
“Yep, guilty as charged.” I felt like a complete deserter.
“How’s she doing?”
“She’s still unconscious but is on the mend…or so they say.” I pulled my jacket closer feeling chilled suddenly. “So you’re like a hero,” I said.
“Please, I didn’t do much. Bear chased whoever it was off, I only called the ambulance. Anyone else would have done the same.”
I shook my head. “No, I doubt that.”
“I didn’t realize she was your friend.”
“Yeah,” I sighed. “I am the worst friend ever.”
“No you’re not,” he disagreed. “If I remember correctly your friend wanted you to leave.” He adjusted and turned toward me more. “You just did what she asked.”
“Yeah, but she was drinking,” I argued. “I should have stayed since I was the one that brought her.”
“That’s right,” he said. “Blame yourself. That does her a lot of good.”
“How can I not blame myself?”
“Amber, you weren’t the one that attacked her.”
“Well, I know but…” I chewed my lip.
“But what?” he asked. “What could have you done to stop it?”
“I don’t know.” I placed my hands on the rock. “Maybe it wouldn’t have happened if I stayed.”
“Please,” he exhaled roughly. “Then I would have had to save you both and I might not have been able to. It was good that you left.”
I shook my head. “That’s what Viktor said.”
“Viktor?” His eyes darkened. “As in Viktor Roth?”
“Yeah, do you know him?”
“Yep, sure do,” he said coldly. His entire demeanor changed.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” He stared out at the ocean.
I pushed his arm. “You know, I’m not the only one that sucks at lying.”
He cracked a smile and then it faded. “Are you dating him or something?”
“Hardly,” I scoffed. “I barely know him.”
“You should keep it that way,” he said, his face stern.
“Why’s that?”
“He’s bad news, that’s why.”
A surge of irritation shot through me. I hated when people said stuff like that with no explanation. “Why’s that?” I prodded.
“It’s not worth relaying.”
“What did he do?” I poked. “Steal your girlfriend?”
Lucky glared at me. “You shouldn’t joke about things you know nothing about,” he snapped.
A fissure of fear shot through me for a moment but then my irritation flared again. “Maybe you shouldn’t say things about people when you don’t have anything to back up what you’re saying then.” My heart was pounding. I wasn’t sure if it was anger or fear.
“This was a mistake.” He stood up.
“Where are you going?”
“Tours over.” His jaw was working. “I’m going home.”
“You can’t just up and leave. I haven’t gotten my monies worth.”
“I’ll get you a refund.”
“Lucky,” I started and then stopped. What was I going to say…sorry. I wasn’t though.
He turned. His body was rigid. “You should be careful, things are not what they seem here.”
“Really, what are they then?”
He raked his hand through his long hair. “There are things here you don’t understand.”
“Like what?”
“Vampires’ for instance.” His black eyes were intense, unblinking as they bore down into my own.
I broke eye contact first and laughed, not because I thought it was funny but because it unsettled me. “You people are really taking this tourist thing a bit far don’t you think?”
He didn’t flinch.
“Come on,” I said. “I get it, but I’m not one of those people. I live here.”
“That’s why I’m telling you.” His face was deadly serious.
“You’re ridiculous.” I grabbed up my pack and jumped down from the rock.
“Amber…”
“What?” I snapped and jerked my pack on my shoulder.
“I’m not...”
I held up my hand to silence him. “I get it, this is you’re lively-hood but I’m not that gullible.” I pulled my hair out from under my strap. “You know, I did come here because I wanted to see you,” I admitted. “And yes, I had some questions too.” I took a breath. “But this…” I pointed to him and then to myself. “I can’t deal with the lies.”
“Amber, I’m not lying to you.” His face was completely serious.
“God!” I raked my hands through my hair, frustrated. “What’s next, Lucky?” I asked. “No wait, let me guess,” I said, when it looked like he was going to speak. “You’re going to tell me werewolves are real too.”
He didn’t answer. He merely lifted his broad shoulders in a shrug.
My mouth fell open.
His dark eyes flashed.
I threw my hands up in the air.
“That’s it!” I turned and stormed across the beach back the way we came, wishing once again that I had just stayed home.
thirty nine
When I woke the following day, I was still mad at Lucky. After my craptastic evening Friday, I had hoped by going to
La Push I would have better clarity for what was going on in town and now I was more confused than ever. What was I supposed to do? Buy into all the Vampire/Werewolf crap?
Not likely.
Even though there were parts I totally got. I mean the tourists who came to see Forks who were into the movies and books, pulled in a lot of revenue for the town. But I lived here too. So why was I being fed the same crap as the visitors? Was it some unspoken thing with the town that everyone was supposed to lie? I didn’t get it because I wasn’t into the whole Vampire thing or even the Werewolf thing. Still there were a lot of things niggling in the back of my mind that unsettled me. Like why did Jason and Lucky both make comments that would indicate Vampires were real? Granted, Jason obviously had some issues, as did Kirk, but Lucky too? That didn’t make sense to me. I thought…well it didn’t matter now.
Obviously, Lucky could care less if we were friends so I officially nixed him out of my mind. Now I was back to being friendless, with the exception of Glinda and she was still unconscious. There was Viktor and Vincent but I didn’t know what to think of either of them or how they stood on the whole Vampire/Werewolf thing. I was kind-of afraid to even ask at this point.
I checked my phone to see if Ken had gotten back to me but I didn’t have any texts or calls. He was here last night when I got home but he and Mom were occupied upstairs so I didn’t get a chance to talk to him. I walked over to the window and glanced out. Ken’s squad car was already gone. I headed downstairs to get some coffee.
Much later, after I took a shower and finished my paper on Beowulf, I still had most of the day free. The sun was out and even though it was chilly, it looked like a good day to go for a drive and check out the area. I wanted to get more acquainted with the town. I also wanted to stop by the library and see if any of the books I had written down yesterday were there.
After I dressed, and got ready, I headed downstairs to ask Mom if she minded if I used the car.
When I got downstairs, she was curled up on the couch reading. “Hey Mom,” I said.
She looked up from her book. “Hi, honey. What’s up?”
“It’s a nice day,” I said. “Do you mind if I borrow the car?”
“Why?”
“I thought I would drive to the library and get some books to read.”
“Oh, that sounds like fun” She pulled off her glasses, looking interested. “Do you want some company?”
I didn’t want to be mean, but I kind of wanted to be alone. “I would love company but isn’t Ken supposed to come over soon?” I asked making stuff up. I had no idea if Ken was supposed to come over.
“Oh…” She chewed her lip. “What time is it?”
“Almost four but I bet it will be at least seven before we get home…you know how I am around books.”
“Me too,” she said and frowned. “It is a really nice day though and we haven’t had much time to hang out.”
“Yeah, it is.” I almost caved. “Wait, isn’t Ken off his shift early tonight?” I asked, remembering he got off early on Sunday’s. “It’s Sunday,” I added, reminding her.
“Oh, shoot!” She fell back against the cushions and crossed her arms. She looked like a little disgruntled kid.
“I can get you something if you like.”
“Would you?” she asked, perking up.
“Sure.”
“I’m almost finished the fifth book in the Outlander series and am dying to know what Claire has up her sleeve next.”
I looked down at her book that looked like it was a thousand pages long. “You already finished that?” I pointed at the book on her lap.
“Yes,” she exhaled. “It’s really good.” She lifted the book and hugged it to her chest.
“I should say so.” I glanced out the window as a black bird flew past. “Didn’t you just start reading that last week?”
“No, I started this one about three days ago.”
That was the thing about my mom, when she liked a book she would stay up half the night reading. Me, on the other hand, I always read a lot slower. I liked to linger over the pages and really get into the minds of the characters. Besides, I kind of hated when a good book ended. Once I was done I immediately missed the characters and it took me a while to get interested in another book. That’s why I loved series books, even the ones with cliffhangers…it gave me something to look forward to. “Well, I guess, I better get going.”
“Okay,” she sighed and I could tell she was bummed not to be going with me. “Try to get me book six, it’s called,” she paused and flipped open her book. “I need, A Breath of Snow and Ashes.”
“Got it.” I said making a mental note. “See you later.”
“See you.” She put back on her glasses and reopened her book, immediately engrossed.
Thankfully, the library was open and it did have the sixth book in the series for Mom. I got a few of the books I had seen on the Owlcrate unveiling and a few of the books some of the bloggers and booktubers had been talking about. By the time I made it to the checkout counter I had my arms full. I also grabbed a book on Vampires and one on Werewolves hoping for some kind of enlightenment.
The girl at the counter with purple streaked hair and a thumb ring on her left hand looked to be in her early twenties. She was was dressed all in black, had dark eyeliner with a lip and nose piercing—certainly not who I expected to see working in the Library.
“Find everything you were looking for?” She had a slight lisp and I saw a silver stud in her tongue.
“Yep, I did.” I handed her my temporary library card.
“Looks like you got a good haul here.” She lifted up Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn. “You’ll have to tell me how this one turns out,” she said. “I’ve been wanting to read it but haven’t had the time yet.
“It does look good,” I agreed.
“Have you seen the movie?” she asked.
“No, I wanted to read the book first.”
“Me too,” she agreed. “I’ll have to catch it on video if the books any good.”
“Yeah, I was thinking the same thing.”
When she came to the books on Vampires and Werewolves she lifted her eyes to mine and gave me a strange look.
“Stupid book report,” I lied, covering.
“Oh.” She made a face. “I used to hate those too,” she said. “Who do you have for English?”
“Um, Ms. Campbell,” I admitted, not seeing any point in lying.
“Oh God!” she groaned. “You’re stuck with the turtle!” She laughed. “I couldn’t stand her. She’s a real “b”, you know.” She lifted her brows, her eyes glinting strangely under the fluorescent lights.
“Yeah,” I laughed nervously. That was two people now who seemed to know what I called her. Weird.
“Here you go,” she said and handed me out a little cloth bag filled with my books.
“Thanks.” I said.
“Happy Reading!” she called out as I walked toward the door.
“I’ll let you know…” I turned back around and my breath caught. Her face was contorted and she was glaring at me with a really nasty look on her face, like she hated me. I didn’t bother finishing my sentence. I turned and ran out of the library as fast as I could.
forty
After I left the Library, I was feeling unsettled and found myself driving in the opposite direction from home. At first I thought I was just driving to enjoy the nice day. But too soon, I recognized where I was. I was on the same road where Vincent had told me to drop him off the day it was raining. I guess I wanted to see for myself where he lived…where they lived. I didn’t know what I would do when I found it or if I would find it. I drove until I passed dead man Ferguson’s driveway.
It was the same place Vincent had told me to pull over when I had a flat. The same place Viktor took me after the hospital visit and told me about the bear. And it was also the same place where Viktor showed up when I had a flat tire and where Vincent had disappeared from.
At this point I was going on a gut feeling. I swung my car around and pulled back in the driveway. It seemed to be too much of a coincidence but then again what did I know. As soon as I pulled in the driveway, the tall trees blocked out what remained of the sun and cloaked my car in shadows. I stopped and quickly rolled up my windows and locked my doors. Just in case. I pulled out my phone and pepper spray setting them both within reach.
Taking a shuddering breath, I put my car in drive and headed down the uneven pothole ridden driveway. Partway down, most of the trees that had been crowding in against my car had thinned out a bit. Ahead was a small wooden bridge that spanned twenty or so feet over a creek. The water was pretty high on both sides and would easily flood if there was enough rainfall. I thought about what Vincent had said, when he was with me that his driveway was flooded.
“No,” I said, shaking my head, a thought occurring to me. “He couldn’t have meant here…could he?” I stopped just before the bridge and tried to see further back but the road curved to the left so it was impossible to see beyond.
Another uneasy feeling swept over me but stupidity reared its ugly head and I feathered the gas, coasting across the rickety wooden bridge. It creaked and groaned under the weight of my tires and if I turned the wheel slightly to the left or right I would end up in the creek, floating down stream with the current.
It took twenty-five Mississippi’s to get across the bridge and when my tires hit gravel again, I let out a pent up breath.
“What am I doing?” I was beginning to question my sanity but kept going. Old sayings, like curiosity killed the cat, popped into my head more than once and yet, I still kept going. I made it around the curve and slammed on my brakes. In front of me were two huge mortared columns, covered in briars and weeds with a wrought iron gate propped open with an arch across the top connecting it all together. A huge “R” was emblazoned in the middle on an oval plaque.
I gaped at it. “It can’t be…can it?” Did the “R” mean Roth? With shaking hands, I steered in between the columns and headed further down the driveway. It was nicer now, not as daunting as the top of the drive which made me wonder who was doing the upkeep and why? Especially since Viktor and Vincent, had both said the man was dead…didn’t they?