Page 57 of Shadowed Whispers

It’s a simple question with a simple answer, but I had plans to let my shadows walk, stalk, and kill.

That is a private activity—one not done with anyone.

“Ten,” I answer honestly, but only because Andy and Abbi are staring me down, their expressions a blend of curiosity and mild concern.

“Want company after?” he asks hopefully, leaning in slightly as if trying to coax the truth or perhaps more out of me.

“I have plans,” I say, and for some reason, I feel guilty over the look of disappointment that flickers across his face. “Rain check.”

“What are your plans?” he persists, taking a sip of his beer, not addressing my rain check comment. The sneaky bastard.

“Ah…” I clear my throat, glancing from him to Matteo, who sits in the corner, watching. His gaze is intense, almost piercing. “You know, I have to stop for girlie things,” I tell him, the excuse hanging lamely in the air.

“Want company?”

“You’re like a bulldog,” I retort.

“Well, I want to make up for yesterday.” Heat flares in his eyes.

Does he want to repeat yesterday or apologize? I can’t get a read on him. Either way, I’m not so sure he’s about to just walk away or give in.

One more night, shadows.

“Alright,” I reply. “Did you drive?”

“Wait.” He pops up really fast, spilling some of his beer. “Really?” He turns to Matteo, shouting across the bar. “She said yes!” He turns back to me, a grin spreading across his face. “We got a ride here, so we are all yours.”

“Were you hoping I’d drive you back to campus?”

“Yep.” He winks at me. “Get to know us, Frankie,” he cajoles. “What could go right?”

I snort. What could go wrong, is more like it, and everything could go wrong.

Chapter 19

Frankie

Regret hangs heavily in the air tonight, much like the damp, clinging atmosphere of a crowded sports event I once attended. With every breath, the stench of past mistakes fills my nostrils, a constant reminder of choices I wish I could undo. As I sit here, trapped in the Jeep with Leo and Matteo, I’m painfully aware that my inner turmoil is invisible to them. The soft hum of the engine and the occasional rattle of loose gravel under the tires underscore the silence of our journey, emphasizing my isolation despite the close company.

Leo leans his head on my headrest, a stupid smile on his face as though he is just happy to be here beside me. The warm glow of the dashboard illuminates his face, casting shadows that flicker with each passing streetlight. He keeps stealing glances at me, soft and unassuming, while Matteo’s gaze burns into the skin between my shoulder blades from the back seat. The weight of their attention makes me want to squirm, as if the leather clings tighter with each second.

Most of Morrow Bay closes at exactly six in the evening every single day. Andy’s bar is one of the few havens of light and life that remain open, spilling warm, golden light onto the pavement. Unfortunately, my need to go to the store for girlie things means driving twenty minutes to the next town over and the grocery store that remains open all night.

It’s a big box store, one that boasts cheaper prices than all other competitors. I’ve never really had it in me to actually prove it, but it’s where I go for the things I need. As the town’s lights fade behind us, the road is enveloped by the night.

No one talks because the top is down and the wind whistles through the Jeep, partially drowning out the radio Leo fiddled with until he found a station he liked. He began to sing to each and every single song that came on the radio, which he is still doing, only right now, there is a commercial on, and I just pulled into a parking spot. Shutting the engine down, I look over at the empty parking lot. The only cars sit at the back, probably belonging to employees, and there’s a lone car a few aisles over.

The night sky and all her stars shine down on us, but they don’t create enough light to kill the eeriness of the parking lot. “This is creepy,” I mutter to myself, pocketing my keys.

“Do you often come here alone?” Leo unbuckles his seat belt and turns to me, his smile replaced with concern. The question hangs in the air, tinged with a protective edge.

“Yeah,” I answer truthfully with a shrug. The shadows at my feet twirl around my ankles, reminding me that I’m never alone. They are there to keep me safe.

Leo hums under his breath. “Do you want the top up?” His eyes continue to scan the parking lot, then return to me. “I’m not going to lie, I don’t like it. I feel like someone could hide in the back here and you’d never know.”

“Hasn’t happened yet,” I tease, but it falls flat. “Do you mind zipping the top up?”

“I don’t mind at all.” His smile returns, comforting and warm in the chill of the night. “I’d do it for you.”

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