I followed, aware of the stares. I searched the street, looking for Siyah, and spotted his back to me in the distance. He didn’t look back.

  “How are you holding up?” The sheriff asked as we walked towards the bank of parked golf carts.

  “I’m doing well, my sister, also. Though she still cries.”

  “Well…” He shrugged, continuing down the street. “She will for a long time.”

  The tone made me think that he knew the same type of sorrow, but when I glanced at him his face was relaxed. I let it go, choosing to walk silently with him.

  Noble’s streets were far too few and narrow for traffic. Many people in the village used the small converted golf carts to get to and from their homes and the shops. When Thompson dropped his groceries in the back basket of a black one, I raised a brow.

  “It’s the department’s,” he said and cleared his throat.

  “I guess I pictured you on a motorcycle.” I smiled, nodding towards his feet. “To match your boots.”

  He chuckled and pulled open the small canvas door. “Where can I drop you?”

  I glanced up the road, searching for Siyah. “I’m just going to walk.”

  “Listen—” A thunderclap tore over us, the roar eating up the rest of his sentence. Over the ocean, lightning flashed and churned within the dark clouds. “Are you sure?”

  “Something tells me I would get there faster on foot, anyway,” I said and smiled. “But thank you.”

  He kicked the small tire of the cart and nodded, a wry grin on his tanned face. “You might be right.”

  I left him and took a small road running parallel to the forest. The dark canopy of evergreens and cypress crowded out the sky. I walked in near darkness despite the afternoon hour. Overhead, a thread of light snapped across the sky, answered by the low rumble of thunder. I looked skyward, frowned at the dark clouds roiling with lightning just overhead, and glanced down the road. I wouldn’t make it back to the harbor unless I took a path through the woods.

  Hesitating at the edge of the dark forest, I bit my lip, debating. I’d known these trees and paths my whole life. I played in the thickets and fields of flowers. But where I should feel the safety of the familiar, I found only apprehension. A bright flicker just above made me flinch, and I hopped under the cover of trees just as the first raindrops pelted the street. Though the thick branches offered some protection, the rain trickled its way through the branches, soaking me as I hurried between the trunks and ferns.

  Hair hanging around my face, sweater and skirt drenched, I slowed as I crested a knoll. A fallen tree, soft with moss, blocked my way. I growled. This was new, at least to me. I rounded the log and gasped.

  Seven or eight small rabbits lay strewn on the ground. Their brown and white fur was soiled and their wet bodies stiff. Vacant eyes stared up at the sky, rain falling into the unblinking glares. Their small paws were splayed out in front of them as if they were trying to crawl away from whatever killed them.

  I stumbled back, nausea crashing over me as I tripped over a buried stone and fell sprawling to the ground. My elbow flared with pain and I screamed out. A wave of agony flew through my arm.

  I scrambled to my feet, swaying, suddenly dizzy. Trying to ignore the throbbing, I staggered in the mud, unable to get my bearings. Rain drove down in a steady drone, the sound so loud I could not think. It hit the ground and misted up, graying the scene before me.

  Movement in the woods to my right made me freeze. A looming figure darted between the trees towards me.

  Breath caught in my throat. I pulled away from the trunk, squinting to see through the worsening wind and rain. Faster it came, a strange gait to it as it sped forward. Heart racing, I launched in the opposite direction, tramping through the mud and downed branches, desperate to escape.

  A moan warbled through the mist, low and distorted.

  Fear gripped my heart, icy tendrils that stole my breath. I pushed harder, running as fast as I could, a resounding crack of lightning from behind tore a scream from me and I spun, eyes wild. Sensing the fall before I saw it, the branch bore down, tumbling from the struck tree. The solid tree limb sent a flash through my mind as it hit me. Knocked off my feet, I lay stunned, staring up at the rising tree trunks and blinking the punishing rain from my eyes.

  The form closed in, swiftly it bore down on me.

  Heart ramming painfully, I tried to move, to save myself, all the while thinking of the bunnies dragging themselves through the mud as they died. Vision blurred, I stared with terror as the figure rose over me, only to stop and lurch out of sight abruptly.

  “Raven?” Siyah’s voice sounded to my right. I gasped, crying with relief. His deep blue eyes looked at me with worry as he hurried over.

  “S-Siyah,” I tried. “There’s something…” I tried to stand.

  “Shh,” He held me down with a hand to my shoulder and squatted in front of me, holding his jacket over us like a canopy. Rain gathered on his eyelashes and lips and I thought he never looked more beautiful.

  “Did you see that?” I stammered. “There was something…”

  He winced, his brows furrowed. “You are bleeding.”

  Putting a hand to my forehead, it came back red. I nodded, feeling the earth tilt beneath my legs. Had Siyah not seen the figure chasing me? I took in the swaying tree branches and quivering bushes tossed by the wind and questioned what I saw before.

  “Did I get hit by lightning?” I mumbled, confused.

  Siyah murmured, a low rumble deep in his chest. “Not quite, Raven.”

  “Then what…?” A tremor rocked through me, chilling my body and making my teeth chatter.

  He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to me, moving my hand to hold it in place.

  I tried to smile through the shivers that rocked through me. “T–thanks.”

  “I have to get you warm.” Siyah wrapped his arm around my waist, helping me up. Draping the coat around us, he led us carefully through the woods. “You’re shaking. What are you doing running around in the woods?”

  “I was trying to avoid getting rained on,” I said and fought the wave of faintness that made me sway. Running a hand over my soaked blouse, I tried for humor. “How am I doing?”

  Siyah caught my gaze, his mouth turned up in a slight smile. “Not so well.”

  14

  Head spinning, knees weak, I stumbled alongside Siyah as we took a path out of the woods. Rain and mud flooded the small road.

  “We should not try to walk through that right now.” He glanced at me. “You won’t stay on your feet.”

  “W–what were you doing out there?” My skirt snagged on a patch of thicket, and I nearly went down. My limbs numb with the cold, I stuck my tongue between my teeth to stop the chattering in my head. I felt Siyah’s arm along the small of my back, his hand at my hip keeping me steady. “I thought you were ahead of me. Did you see the—”

  “Shh, concentrate.” The coat he held over us drummed with the driving rain. “We’re not far.”

  Afraid of falling face first in the mud oozing around my ballet flats, I kept my focus on following Siyah. He led us onto the boardwalk, to his home; a place I never intended to see the inside of. Under the overhang, I shook his coat, pushing down the worry that swirled in my stomach as I watched him unlock the door to the building.

  What happened to keeping your distance? Entering his home, his private place, is the last thing you should be doing.

  I shook my head, this was not a social visit. The rain and cold decided for me, nothing more.

  We took the service stairs up, and when he pushed through the entrance to his home, I blinked with surprise.

  Spanning the length of the three empty gift shops below, Siyah’s loft was huge and mostly unused. Three quarters of the space sat unfurnished, the walls dotted with tacked-up blue prints, snapshots of the boardwalk, and hand-drawn plans. Foldable tables peppered the floor, their surfaces piled with tools and rolls of paper, books and debris from the renovation.

  He turned, motioned for me to enter with a gesture. He cleared his throat. Was he nervous? “This is just the work area,” he muttered.

  Seeing Siyah around Noble was one thing, but as I stood so near him in his home I looked up at the brooding tilt of his mouth and was not sure I wanted to stay. This was too close, too familiar. I needed distance. Had he always towered over me like this?

  His glance sent a quake through me.

  I hesitated at the threshold. “I–I think I should just go home.” Soaked to my skin, the frigid water sapped all of my strength and I shivered in the middle of a puddle in his kitchen. “I can call—”

  “The road to the harbor is blocked by a tree,” Siyah said as he walked ahead of me to his bedroom. “We could try the East road around the other way, but your cut looks bad, Raven. For now, the choice is the storm, or this place.”

  I think I’d prefer drowning outside to this. Battered and freezing beat awkward and mortified.

  “Well, Talia can come and get me if I call.” I didn’t bother to carry my cell phone on Noble, the coverage was next to nothing. “Where is your phone?” I scanned the wall of the kitchen, the side tables in the living area.

  “Haven’t installed one yet,” Siyah said when he returned with a sweater and some sweat pants. “You’re not trapped, Raven, so please stop trying to escape a safe place in the storm.”

  Wondering if he understood the meaning of his own words, I let it go, took the clothes, and gave him a grateful smile. In the bathroom, I fumbled to get dry while trying to keep the handkerchief to the cut on my forehead. I wiped the mud from my feet and his floor with my drenched skirt.

  Once done, I sat on the rim of the tub, nerves wringing through my chest as I took in the dark stone sink and stained wood rafters. His entire loft was done in deep rich tones and no frills. It struck me as every bit the dwelling place of a man. Where was the boy in the sneakers and ratty t-shirt I had known? This man, this Siyah, had his own taste and it struck me that he had changed so much. Did I even know this person anymore?

  Did you ever know him, given how you never suspected his betrayal?

  Taking in a deep breath, I smoothed my hair and stepped out of the bathroom. Where the far side of the loft served as a work space, the opposite side was clearly his personal space. A deep burgundy and black rug spread out over polished wood-plank floors. Dark leather chairs flanked a wall of built-in book shelves that rose to the ceiling.

  “There is a first aid kit here, I know it.” Rummaging through his kitchen drawers and cabinets, Siyah looked up. “Keep pressure on that.”

  “I’m fine,” I said, trying to ignore the throbbing of my head. “The branch grazed me, that’s all.”

  “Just…” He looked over, his brow furrowed with concern. Walking over to me, he grabbed a blanket from the couch and wrapped it around my shoulders. “Please sit down, Raven.” His voice was low, measured. “You’re shivering. I do not want you to fall and hurt yourself further.”

  Being so near him, feeling his warm hands on my shoulders sent my heart fluttering. I tore my gaze from his, fidgeted with the blanket, and hoped the heat that rose to my face wasn’t as obvious as I feared. The idea of him getting any closer sent my heart tumbling. This was a bad idea.

  “It hardly hurts at all, Siyah,” I said. “Please don’t—”

  “The branch hit you hard enough to draw blood and knock you down. When the storm passes, I’m taking you to get that looked at.”

  “Uh…I don’t believe it’s that bad.” I couldn’t let him take care of me, couldn’t let my heart latch on to the ridiculous hope that his concern came from something I’d given up on long ago.

  Siyah pressed his lips in a thin line, his gaze holding mine.

  I put my hand up in surrender. “I will apply pressure,” I said and gave him a reassuring smile. “See?”

  Siyah looked at me for a second longer, and then went back to his search.

  A brick wall divided the kitchen and work areas. The small table sitting against it looked handmade.

  I ran a palm over the surface feeling the ripples of the flamed oak. My grandfather used to do woodwork like this, and I admired it as I took a seat. Huddled in the wool blanket, the numbness left my fingers and the trembling stilled.

  His stern face and hurried movements made me nervous, and I stood again, walking to peer out the windows that ran the length of the far wall. I leaned against the sill listening to the rain drum against the glass. On the second floor, I had a view of the carnival rides, the boardwalk, and the forest beyond.

  “Still can’t sit for more than a few moments.” It was a statement, not a question. Siyah walked over to me and held up a white metal box. “Will you at least stay put long enough for me to do this?”

  “Doesn’t this seem a little overboard?” I asked, but followed him to the large chair next to the books. “It probably—” Pulling the handkerchief from my scalp, I caught sight of the amount of blood, and a wave of heat rushed over me. My vision grayed at the edges, and I swayed. Was all that from me?

  Siyah’s arm slipped around my waist, and he helped me into the chair. Kneeling in front of me, he set the first aid kit on my lap.

  “That is why I wanted you to be seated,” he said.

  He squinted, his attention on the injury as he brushed hair back from my forehead. His touch sent a ribbon of heat across my skin.

  Ramrod straight in the chair, my hands around the first aid box, I let my gaze trace the contour of his jaw, across his full lips, and marvel at the depth of blue in his eyes. An ache seized my throat, a loss so deep it was difficult to breathe. I pulled in a shuddering sigh and he stilled, sinking back on his heels to look at me.

  “Are you all right?”

  I nodded quickly, blinking back the sting of tears in my eyes. “I don’t understand how I can feel so lost back here,” I whispered. “This was my home.”

  His jaw tightened and he nodded silently, his gaze on the roll of tape in his hands. Siyah smoothed the bandage against my skin and stood, taking the box from me and striding back into the kitchen. Standing with both his hands on the counter, he lowered his head, his eyes closed. Intensely private, he would do that when we were together when he was troubled. Back then, though, I had not been the reason for his dark thoughts.

  Why had I said that? My thoughts clashed against each other as I reminded myself that those kinds of confessions were for friends, and he’d told me himself, friends was something we could never be. I bit my lip, concentrating on my wringing fingers.

  “Sonja needs me now,” I added as if that would make the painful silence disappear. “I think for a little bit, anyway.”

  “I am sorry about your sister’s loss,” he said quietly. “But I am more concerned with how you are faring here.”

  I did not expect his words or the concern in his voice.

  “I’m fine.”

  “And your father? I saw what he did at the bonfire. How can—”

  “I’m fine,” I repeated, my voice cracking.

  “Raven…” His gaze met mine, held it, and I couldn’t look away.

  Instead, I gathered the blanket around me tighter, sliding into its depths until it blocked me from his line of sight. The warmth of Siyah’s home seeped in, stilling my shivering, and I bit my lip to keep from crying. Forcing calm into my voice, I changed the subject. “You have a nice home, Siyah.”

  “I just live here,” he murmured after a moment and strode over. Sinking into the leather chair opposite me, he seemed tired, burdened. Looking around, lips tight, his gaze settled back to mine. “There is nothing here that makes it a home.”

  “No, it’s…” At a loss for words, I rubbed a rivet in the chair’s leather. “It’s what I imagined for you.”

  “Have you?” His guarded expression gave nothing away, and I searched in vain for a hint of what he was thinking.

  “Have I what?”

  “Imagined what life was like for me here?”

  Siyah’s sudden lunge into so sensitive a subject took me by surprise, and I stared back at him, my mouth working. “I–I mean…”

  He sank back in the chair, long arms dangling over the sides, hands fisted. Letting his head fall back, he stared at the ceiling with a heavy sigh. “I am sorry.”

  Moments passed, seemingly endless seconds of silence before I gathered the courage to say what was on my mind.

  “I don’t know how to talk to you anymore.” My words, barely audible, forced a frown from him and he sat up.

  “That was a problem long before you left.” Sorrow darkened his eyes. “And I am the one who should be sorry, for everything.”

  I shook my head, unable to think of what to say. A shard of pain shot across my skin, and I winced, my hand going to the bandage.

  “You are not fine.” Siyah leaned forward in his chair. A flicker in the sky outside the window flashed across his features lighting up his eyes. “Not even close, Raven.”

  “Leave me alone.” I stood, fighting the lightheadedness that assaulted me, determined to escape the tumble of my heart that came with being near him.

  “You should—”

  “I know what I should do,” I interrupted, avoiding his gaze. “I’ve always known what I am supposed to do, Siyah.” I wanted to be furious. I wanted to rail at him and throw things as I would have before. Instead, my insides quavered with all the loss and sorrow and loneliness of years spent in exile. It nearly shook me to pieces where I stood.

  He didn’t answer, didn’t move.

  I could not bring myself to face him. Concentrating on a single row of framed photos that hung on the wall opposite the bookshelves, I wandered over to them. Black and white, they were of places around Noble Island. Crescent Point, the moon shaped rock formation framing the rising sun, a view of the sky through the canopy of oaks, waves spraying over the jetty at Black Shore beach; all of them held memories for me, for us. The last one gave me pause. Larger than the others and set off from them by foot, an image of a scarred tree trunk filled the frame. Lips parted with surprise, I froze as the image of him in bandages flashed behind my eyes.

 

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