Читать книгу Darkest Dawn - Katlyn Duncan - Страница 9

CHAPTER ONE

Sloane

I promised myself I’d never step foot in Willows Lake for as long as I lived. Yet diesel fumes filled my nose as the coach bus roared away into the night. I squinted up at the bright lights of the gas station that served as the town bus stop. I tightened my grip on my backpack and touched my pocket, crinkling the paper hidden inside. It had become a compulsive habit ever since I received the letter several days ago, calling me back to the place that served as the setting for most of my nightmares.

The two men that I shared the final stretch of my journey with had already left. One of them got into a car seconds after we arrived and the other was on his way to the motel across the street.

My stomach growled. The last time I ate was five hours ago at the bus station. A vending-machine meal of trail mix and a soda.

My phone chirped from my back pocket.

A text lit up the screen, R U there yet?

Amber. A quick companion at my newest school in Manhattan. She was the resident cynic and had just lost her clique after stealing her new boyfriend, Paul, from her best friend. I wasn’t picky when it came to friends. I usually had at least one in the short stretches of time before Dad and I picked up and left for another location, which was good enough for me.

I typed a response. Have officially arrived in Hicksville, USA.

Keep me updated!

I checked the other text that had come in when I arrived. It was from Dad. Just landed. Have fun with Amber. Don’t stay up too late. Love you. Quick and to the point. That was Dad. He felt bad enough leaving me for days at a time, enough that for a while he’d bring me home gifts from airports around the world. But having a pilot for a dad wasn’t that bad. I rarely broke the rules, given that there weren’t many. The main rule being that I let him know where I am when I’m not home. It was a simple one.

Until I got the letter.

It had been Amber who convinced me to come to Willows Lake. I told her I had family history in the sleepy town in upstate New York. It wasn’t a complete lie, yet made me feel bad enough.

“You saved me from torture the past few months. The least I can do is lie to your dad,” she’d said.

The letter opened up old feelings for me that I’d locked away a long time ago. The real truth I’d searched for until Dad sent me to several doctors at a high cost to our family and bank accounts. After finding several past-due bills, I knew I had to figure something out. Eventually I said whatever they needed me to say to officially “get over” her death.

Something wet splashed across my cheek. I looked up at the thick clouds as more rain peppered my face. I looked both ways before crossing, not that there was another car in sight but the ritual had been burned into my brain by my mom from a very young age. I hustled across the street to the diner next to the motel. A fluorescent sign for “Willows Lake Diner” called to me.

I checked the gold watch on my wrist; it had been Mom’s. Other than in the shower, I never took it off.

A memory of the accident crept into my mind. This time I allowed it to linger. Mom was the reason I was here. The last time she came to Willows Lake, she returned in a body bag. A car accident with one casualty and one survivor.

More than once I’d wished she’d been the one to survive instead of me.

I clenched my jaw, shoving the memories down. I inhaled the cool, crisp air, allowing my lungs to fill to capacity. The burn gave me something to think about other than her. Thinking of Mom always made my mind spiral. Soon I’d know more, then the nightmares and questions would end and I might finally be at peace.

I opened the door to the diner. The scent of burnt coffee and mouth-watering bacon filled my nose. The windowed walls were lined with red booths sitting on black and white checkered tile. Although it was much cleaner than any of the dozens I’d been to at home, I imagined there weren’t too many patrons coming through. A punk couple sat in the corner booth, their black-liner eyes boring into one another’s. And one old man sat in the middle booth reading a newspaper. A rock song poured through the open window behind the counter. I held the door open for a guy throwing his hood over his head before heading out into the night.

“Are you going to just stand there and let the rain in?”

I glanced at the older woman who stood in front of me, hand on her hip and lipstick stains on her front teeth. She cracked her gum and raised one pencil-thin eyebrow. Her white, curly hair was pulled back from her face in a mess, reminding me of the fluffy bichon frise that lived next door.

I pulled off my hood and I let the door go. The bell above tinkled as it closed.

“Just one?” she asked.

I glanced behind me at the empty space and turned back to her. “Yeah.”

She pursed her lips, pulled a menu from the hostess stand, and walked to the closest booth. I tilted my head down, letting my hair move over my face like a curtain. I wanted to keep the lowest profile I could. I slid into the seat, my back facing the door.

She slapped the laminated menu onto the tabletop. “Coffee?”

I shook my head; I wanted to sleep tonight. “Water is fine. And a bacon cheeseburger. Medium-well. Ketchup on the side.”

The waitress took the menu and turned on her heel toward the kitchen. I waited until she returned with the glass of water. No ice. I curled my lip but said nothing. Instead, I gulped down half of the lukewarm water and slid down the booth until my back pressed against the edge.

A newscaster’s voice rose over the music from the kitchen. I glanced up at the television mounted to the corner. The volume bar at the bottom of the screen increased. The waitress walked toward the television, holding the remote in front of her. She clicked her tongue disapprovingly.

“—Another large animal has drowned in Willows Lake. The county Animal Control will be testing the water and all residents are encouraged to steer clear of the lake until further notice. This is the fourth animal to be found in the past six months. Now on to the weather…”

I tuned out the news as I took the letter from the inner pocket of my jacket. I recited the words to myself as I unfolded the crumpled paper. I’d spent the last two days folding and unfolding the paper as I read it over and over, still not comprehending what it promised.

Dear Sloane,

I apologize for taking so long to get in contact with you. I’m so sorry about your mother. She was a friend of mine for some time.

I can imagine Willows Lake is the last place you want to think of but it is imperative that you return. Information about your mother’s accident has come to light and with your help I know we can give her the proper justice she deserves. You need to return by Friday, October 14. I have enclosed money for your travel and to compensate you for any inconvenience. This matter must be kept to yourself until all the information has been collected.

I’ll meet you at noon behind the cafeteria at Willows Lake High School. You can stay at the Willows Lake Motel.

I read the unsigned letter two more times before putting it away. A relieved breath whooshed out of me, replacing my jittery nerves with a growling stomach. I glanced at the kitchen. The waitress filed her nails by the kitchen doors. I assumed she was only waiting on me, as it seemed like everyone else already had their meal.

My mind wandered back to the note. I wasn’t a naive sixteen-year-old girl who frequently followed requests made in unsigned, mysterious notes. The information promised in the letter meant it couldn’t be from some random person. He or she knew my past with Willows Lake.

My cell buzzed from my pocket. Another text from Dad.

Off to the hotel. You alive?

I quickly texted back. I’m not sure I could handle speaking to him at the moment. He would call if I didn’t respond. Yeah. Sleeping. Love you.

You too, pumpkin.

I smiled to myself, missing him already. Hating that I’d lied to him. Soon I’d be able to prove to him that I was right all those years ago. And I could finally move on with my life.

I thought the waitress had returned but I glanced up at someone else.

A guy held a steaming plate topped with my hamburger and a pile of french fries. He was cute. I’d even venture to say gorgeous. His big chocolate eyes were bright for this time of night. And he had thick brown hair that would make any girl want to run her fingers through it to see how soft it really was. His grease-stained apron was probably white once, and attached was a name tag that read “Jake”. When he slid into the booth across from me, my skin exploded with goose bumps. My mind went to the stun gun in my bag. Looks and a smile like his didn’t always mean good intentions.

“I almost didn’t recognize you,” he said, his voice was deep and he still smiled. “I thought you would come around back?”

I glanced around the room. Was this the person who sent for me? Weren’t we supposed to meet tomorrow? I pressed my back into the booth, my body rigid. He was closer to my age than my mom’s. He would have been young when Mom’s accident happened. I scanned the room, looking for anyone who was watching us. I came to the quick conclusion that this guy must be the calm and trusting face for me to meet prior to whoever sent me. Tingles shot up my skin and not for the first time did I think this had been a bad idea. Or possibly that I might end dead in a ditch in this pathetic town.

I knew that note backward and forward. It had a specific meeting point and time. I decided to test him. “We aren’t doing this tomorrow?”

He slid the plate in front of me. The bacon-scented steam wafted up my nose. This guy knew how to distract me. “This conversation should be private, not at school.”

There must have been a change in plans since I got the letter. And he was right—I didn’t want to discuss the strange circumstances surrounding Mom’s death around anyone else.

He was staring at me.

“What?” The accusation came out short, but I was annoyed, tired, and very hungry.

And he had the nerve to smile at me again. “Sorry. Your eyes—”

I narrowed them. The genetic defect heterochromia iridium, which made my left eye a dark green with my right eye pale blue, had made me stick out as different. One of the reasons I was able to get over other people’s stares was because Mom had the same trait. “What about them?”

He shrugged slightly and slid from the booth. I followed him with my gaze. “It’s not something I see a lot. They really look amazing.”

“Thanks,” I mumbled, unsure if he was making fun of me. I could normally read guys, but this one was setting off warning bells that I had the urge to ignore. Was he flirting with me? I wasn’t sure that it was the time or place. I needed answers.

I started to get up from the booth but he held a hand up. “Eat first. You look hungry. Come by the kitchen after.”

I followed his retreat to the kitchen but he didn’t look back at me. As much as I wanted to know everything right then and there, my stomach persisted. And I obeyed.

Whether it was because I was starving or the need for information burned inside of me, I ate the burger in under two minutes. I gulped down the rest of the water and grabbed my bag. I slipped my stun gun into my jacket pocket. I’d never make the same mistake twice. I slapped a few bucks for the tip on the table and went to the double doors of the kitchen. The waitress hadn’t stopped me, even when she went to collect my plate and money.

I pushed open the door and was met with the tinny sound of an AC/DC song. An older man was at the sink, bobbing his head to the music. His voice was off-key but he seemed to be enjoying himself, especially when he broke out an air guitar solo.

Jake came into the kitchen, wielding a mop as a microphone and singing the lyrics to the song in a spot-on Brian Johnson impersonation. My hand shot to my mouth as I stifled a laugh.

Both guys looked at me and I froze in place.

“It appears we have an audience,” said the older man. He turned down the music.

Jake raked his hand through his hair a few times, not meeting my eyes. “That was quick.”

“I couldn’t wait.”

He gave me another disarming smile. My stomach twisted. Damn him. He didn’t seem like the serial killer type, but I’d seen enough crime shows to know that most didn’t. I glanced out the pass through window into the dining area. He couldn’t kill me with witnesses present, right?

“Pop, can I—?”

His dad turned the music up. “Don’t be long,” he called over it and winked at me. “These dishes won’t dry themselves.”

Jake indicated for me to follow him. He led us through a back door into the cool night. The heavy door closed behind us.

There go the witnesses.

We stood on a set of cement stairs. A small overhang protected us from the rain that had picked up since I’d last been outside. Cold air swept under my jacket and I shivered. I inspected our surroundings, hoping this wasn’t a trick. A large garbage bin and several smaller ones were our only company.

Jake’s body was close to mine and I kept my hand at my side, feeling for the stun gun.

He moved away from me, clasping his hands around the metal railing opposite from the one I dug my back into. I tightened my grip on the strap of my bag.

The mixed emotions of relief and nervousness were etched on his face. “Sorry. I can’t think in there sometimes.” He leaned his head back, studying the overhang. “I know this isn’t the place to do this, but I couldn’t wait.”

Now we were getting somewhere. “Tell me.” My voice was terse and strained, but I didn’t want him to move until he told me why I’d been brought here.

He smiled to himself, almost shy. “I tried to think of the perfect place to do this. Then realized there isn’t a perfect place.” His smile was gone, replaced with a serious expression that struck me like lightning.

He moved closer and I clutched my bag tighter. My chest bloomed with anticipation of what he was about to tell me. His smile was back, but this time it quirked the side of his mouth. His eyes moved over my face, a wake of awareness touching everywhere—my cheeks, nose, eyes—and finally his eyes settled on my suddenly dry lips.

“It took me way too long to say it. But I think you’re incredible.” His fingers gently brushed against my cheek.

I flinched. My body froze even though alarm bells rang in my ears. It was so wrong, yet my body remained still.

“And beautiful.”

My legs turned to jelly and I leaned even more into the railing.

His fingers traced over my cheek. “I don’t think you should ever hide those eyes.”

Before I knew it, his lips were on mine. I gasped lightly. And pressed my hand against his chest. A flurry of thoughts raced through my brain. Though I couldn’t pull any rational ones from the situation. I briefly wondered about the bacon burger and the effect it had on my breath. Finally my brain clicked on. I pushed him away with barely enough force to make him budge. He pressed his body against mine and my body betrayed me by melting into his, all thought of right and wrong disappearing from my thoughts. He deepened the kiss and I let him. Oh boy, did I let him. His lips were warm and each time they touched mine, the heat intensified, reaching down to the tips of my toes. I reached up, brushing my fingers over his shoulders.

“Bri,” he murmured against my lips.

My body froze, the name stinging me like a thousand bees across my skin. I found the strength to push him away, my hands frozen between us. What the hell was I doing?

His eyes opened wide. “What’s wrong?”

I shook my head, rattling some sense into my brain. The cool metal railing sent rational thoughts back to the front of my mind. I moved away from him, stumbling down the cement steps, stunned by the rain as it soaked me in seconds.

“Bri. Wait!”

“I have to go.” I backed away from him. I turned away. His hurt expression made my chest tighten. I jogged around the building toward the motel. I touched my pocket again. The further I got from him, the clearer my head became. What the hell was I thinking? I should have gone with my first instinct and fled the diner after I’d eaten. And who the hell was Bri?