Page 5 of Drowning in Sins
“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”
Beth cleared her throat. My eyes turned to her, drawn out of the nearby conversation.
“It makes me not want to stay here.” She steadied her breathing before leaning closer to whisper, “You don’t think it’s haunted, do you?”
The logical part of me wanted to say no, blame things on science. The other part of me knew there were things that couldn’t be explained. It was why I loved reading, a chance to let my imagination run wild with possibilities in a safe environment. According to the flier the man had given me at check-in, the inn was haunted by more than fifty ghosts. That didn’t even reach the mysteries of the town itself.
I bit my lip, unsure how to answer her.
Chapter Four
FREDERICK
Our eyes are supposed to be the window to our soul. At least, that’s the bullshit Shakespeare said. I wasn’t a poet; I didn’t have a creative bone in my body. It didn’t stop me from pretending to be and using those kinds of lines on unsuspecting tourists. Those naïve girls fell for it every time. Their eyes stayed hooked on my baby-blues after that. It was as if the gray cracking under the surface stayed hidden. Nobody else saw the cloudy eyes looking back at me in my reflection. Never the burdens that weighed down my soul.
I could lie to myself and say nobody knew my secrets, but then I’d be a liar like William. As if our small beach town wasn’t already full of them, so many secrets it was bursting at the seams. As a member of the Pirate Kings MC, my brothers held the majority of mine. The ones they knew about. The rest of the town had their own rumors about me. It helped keep the local pussy disinterested… most of the time.
Turning away from the mirror, I flipped the light off and quietly left the room. The girl lying in the hotel bed would wake up and leave town, only a fun memory from her vacation to tell her friends about whenever she got back to wherever it was shesaid she was from. I stepped into my boots outside the room and walked away. A friendly nod to the bellman shaking his head at me with a laugh as I walked out of the lobby and toward the small parking lot.
There was still time before church, and I knew I had an empty fridge waiting for me at home. There would be a few cans of beer, maybe a bottle of tequila in the cabinet, but no sustenance to keep me alive through the week.
A few extra minutes of my time now, and stoned or drunk me later would appreciate it. It wasn’t like the store was out of the way. In a matter of minutes, I was cruising down the road.
I held my breath and ignored the cool breeze that came from the water as I crossed the bridge. The exhale came slowly as I pulled into the Mini Mart parking lot. My phone buzzed in my pocket before I even stepped off the bike. I pulled it out to see a message from the president of the club; I couldn’t exactly ignore it.
Walter: I need you to come ten minutes early.
Me: I’ll be there.
I made my way inside;there was still time. Grabbing one of the carts, I mindlessly wandered down a few of the aisles and picked up the same things I always did. Was I a creature of habit? Absolutely. No point in mixing things up when I knew exactly what I wanted. Maybe I was too stubborn for my own good, but I only had myself to look after.
As I turned at the end of the aisle, the front of my cart bumped into another.
“Sorry.” I put on the fake smile that got me out of trouble more times than I could count and moved until I saw who was pushing the other cart.
Features that hauntingly matched my own.
The bane of my existence.
Nicholas Peel.
I didn’t even know he was back in town. The man was out to sea more than he was on land. It was what made sharing a town with him bearable, most of the time. We rarely crossed paths.
“My bad.” He shook his head. “How have you been?” he greeted me as if we were old friends, but that was a lifetime ago.
“Kai, I’m not going to make small talk with you. I’ve got somewhere I need to be.” I quickly rolled the cart toward the cashier.
The sooner I was away from him, the better. I didn’t care if they said blood ran thicker than water. The only thing connecting us was six feet under. As far as I was concerned, that part of my DNA had boiled out a long time ago.
The clubhouse was on the opposite side of town as the docks. None of it far enough from the water. The haunting view of the ocean was inescapable nearly everywhere. Lovibond was nearly surrounded by water. A big enough storm and it would once again be cut off from the rest of the world.
Scientists loved to tell the stories of how thousands of years ago, before the volcanoes were active, this place was so small you could explore every inch of it within an hour. Now, it would take a bit longer. My bike could get from one side of the island to the mountains in an hour. Another hour and you’d reach the highest point next to the sand and bridge that barely connected us to the rest of the country.
My house was one of the few up on the mountain. The air here was too thin for most, but I enjoyed the feeling. It also gave me a better view than the clubhouse of our little town. The sunrose on this side, letting me be the first to see what the day would hold.
It was also the farthest I could be from the water without leaving town. As much as I feared the ocean around me, I couldn’t be away from it. It was frightening how much it steadied my heart rate and made my veins feel frozen at the same time.
As fast as physically possible, I put the few groceries away, then headed down the path to the clubhouse. The president never had things to discuss with only me, not really.
