Third Time's a Charm (Crimson Cove Mysteries Book 3) Read online

  “And unleashed the red fury.” Linds nudged me jokingly.

  “What red fury?” I scoffed, fully aware of it. It had been my legacy in pre-K. I was known for talking with my hands and raging from time to time. I thought I’d grown out of it but maybe the past four months had brought it all back.

  “Girl, you have wicked red fury.” Rita laughed. “I thought you were gonna straight up kill me.” She nestled into Ashton’s embrace.

  “Whatever, maybe before. I’ve mellowed.” I rolled my eyes and glanced back at Finn who grinned in his stoic way. “Seriously, I never freak out. I’m all talk now.”

  Rita lifted an eyebrow.

  “Okay, like last night was different.” I blushed and tried not to hear the whisper in my head that said we were all different now and would never be the same as before. “I need this to end. I’m so tired of it. It’s getting to me.”

  And nothing was truer.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Let The Right One In

  Lying in bed I sighed. The night had been perfect, except for the dark-haired girl coming to make me paranoid and the whole Rita apology. I hadn’t given much thought to the fact we’d kept her at arm’s length a lot. She wasn’t one of us, even if she was to the killer.

  Unless she was the killer.

  But beyond those things, it was a perfect night. We had laughed and joked and even Jake seemed as though he was having fun dancing with Lainey and being goofy. Only Sage had come alone, but she had a good time with the group of girls she had hung out with, the ones she knew from rowing club.

  Finn had been the best part of my night.

  He had gone from wiping my tears to including me in his thoughts, admitting how I had become his burden. The whole notion of it made me smile. I was his burden, his cross to bear. I didn’t care about the negative connotation. I only saw the “his” in the sentence.

  I was mid reliving his lips pressed against my hand when I heard a noise.

  I sat up, glancing across the huge room.

  My bedroom window opened in the far corner.

  “No,” I whispered and lay back.

  A dark figure poked through the curtain.

  I froze, not breathing or moving.

  I contemplated slipping off the side of the bed to the floor and crawling under it, but I was frozen, except for my racing heart. It pounded so hard the person sneaking around in the dark must have heard it.

  I wanted to slap myself for not being more afraid earlier and for thinking I hadn’t let the dark-haired girl win. She’d won. I wanted to profess it as I begged her to stop creeping about my room. I wanted to negotiate. All that big talk was gone and the big, brave Sierra had vanished into the dark.

  Maybe I could buy her off. I could promise her things. Though that hadn’t worked in the cell or the torture room.

  My heart raced and my mouth dried as she drew nearer.

  My eyes longed to close but the muscles were frozen open.

  I could taste my death in the air that had followed her in the window.

  “Sierra,” she whispered.

  I stayed perfectly still, like an ostrich with her head in the sand.

  “Sierra,” she whispered again but this time a marginal amount of fear slipped away as I recognized the voice. Not hers—his.

  I lifted my head to see a dark hoodie with the face of Jake staring back at me. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” I whispered harshly, almost doing a quick check for pee. “Are you drunk? Why are you sneaking in my room in the dark? You ass!”

  “I have to ask you something. It’s been driving me nuts.” He sat on the edge of my bed, his eyes wide.

  “What could possibly be this important? It’s the middle of the night.”

  “It’s about that girl. The one who took you.”

  “What?” My heart started to race again.

  “When she had you there, did she—?” He paused, shaking his head. “Did she read—?”

  “My diary?” I tilted my head, wondering if he had kept one too.

  “Your diary?” He lifted his head. “She had yours?”

  “Yeah. What did she read you?” I couldn’t imagine. Did boys even keep diaries?

  “Rachel’s. She read Rachel’s.” He lowered his gaze, biting his lip. “She knew—everything.” He sighed into the dark space between us, dimly lit by my charger and the lights coming in the window he’d left open.

  “She had Rachel’s journal?” I paused. “But Linds took it. Linds has it. Doesn’t she?”

  “I don’t know. Lainey doesn’t tell me everything. I think she’s trying to keep me out of it, or she’s worried about how much it’ll bug me.” He appeared as if he tried to smile but failed partway, leaving a weird grimace on his face. “She read me everything Rach ever wrote about me. Things about you.” He winced and bit his lip. “And me.”

  “I don’t care. I don’t care what Rachel said or did or what. Whatever it was, it’s in the past now.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?” He started to make me uncomfortable.

  “For being a dick to you. I never knew—I just thought we were friends who sometimes messed around. I never thought anything. I mean, I thought you didn’t think anything.” He sounded insane.

  “What did that journal say?”

  “That you actually loved me. I never would have done any of the things if I’d known.” He looked like he was sick with himself.

  I laughed.

  Loud.

  “What?” He tilted his hooded head.

  “I never loved you. I thought maybe you and I might hook up and maybe you were a guy I should date, but I never saw it as anything else.” I laughed again. “Rachel was such a crazy bitch.”

  “So you never—?”

  “No. God no. No. I thought you were a dirty little player, in fact I still do.” I lifted a finger. “Which reminds me, if you hurt Lainey, I will make you wish you’d—”

  “I won’t.” He shook his head. “She’s the one for me. I know we’re young and I shouldn’t know that already, but I do.” The real Jake showed up and his smile brightened, well past the broken Jake of late.

  “I know what you mean.” I’d seen it in Vincent. He felt the same way about Linds. She was it. I hated it, and yet I had to recognize the true love for what it was. Maybe they would be those cliché high school sweethearts. Either way, they were meant for each other.

  “So we’re cool?” He sounded nice. Not like an overconfident football-playing rich kid. He sounded like a nice boy next door.

  “We’re cool.” I leaned back, still shaking from the fright he had given me. “But don’t climb in the window anymore. Jesus. You scared the hell out of me.”

  “Oh sorry. I didn’t think you were actually in here already. I figured you and Finn might be in a different room or on the beach. I was going to wait.” He chuckled.

  “I wish.”

  “What?”

  “Finn isn’t exactly—well, I don’t know what Finn is. He’s Lainey but a guy when it comes to having moves or game. He’s not a player or charmer at all. And he’s smart but not showy, like Lain. He’s subtle, like he doesn’t want people to know it. He’s weird. And he works for my dad, which is never good.”

  “And it’s driving you crazy. Even crazier that you like him because you don’t need the headache of an inept boyfriend.” He laughed again. “I know this all too well.”

  “He’s driving me completely crazy. I don’t even know what to do about it.”

  “Kiss him. Make the first move.” He smirked and peered down again. “I’m not going to kiss and tell, but Lainey just needed that first kiss. She just needed me to show her how I felt and almost give her permission. She isn’t inept anymore.” He pressed his lips together, shutting himself up.

  “Gross and inspiring. Thanks, Jakey.”

  “I’m sorry for coming over like this. I just couldn’t sleep. I didn’t want you to think it was on purpose. You’re just so strong and cool, and you
seem like you don’t need anyone or want anyone. Well, you did. Before. It was driving me insane that I was such a dick to you.”

  “You’re not a dick.” I couldn’t believe I was saying it, but he had proved himself to not be the scummy player I’d always thought he was.

  “Thanks. I will see myself out.” He pointed at the front door. “You mind if I go this way?”

  “Please. And use the front door next time you come over.” I smiled but my heart still raced.

  “Goodnight.” He nodded and left my room, not for the first time.

  I hurried to the window to lock it but in the shadows of the garden lights I saw another dark figure staring up. I saw the face this time. It was one that stung. Finn was watching my window from the garden below. His eyes narrowed when he saw me.

  “Come up.” I waved at him.

  He turned, not listening to me.

  “Wait, please. I’ll come down.” I turned and ran from the room, passing Jake on the way out. “See ya.” I waved and ran for the backyard.

  When I got there Finn was walking toward the gate to the beach. “Wait!”

  “Why? You seem busy.” His tone screamed of jealousy which should’ve made me feel bad. But it didn’t. It made the frosty December air warm and my heart beat faster than anything the dark-haired girl could have done to me.

  “Jake stopped in to offer advice.”

  He turned, giving me a weird look. “What? What about?”

  “This.” I stepped closer, my chest pressing against his abs. I lifted my hands to cup his cheeks and pull his face to mine. I paused for one moment to take it all in. He was anti perfect, the Alice in Wonderland version where everything about him was flawless in a backwards sort of way. Inhaling the cool air, I leaned in, stopping again just before his lips met mine. I wasn’t sure how far I had to go to give him permission.

  That was it.

  That was as far as I needed.

  From there, the spot where I could taste his exhale and breathe his hesitation, he moved closer, lowering his head more. He tilted his head to the right slightly, closing his eyes at the last second and brushing my lips so softly. It wasn’t passionate or desperate. That was his hand on my back, the one that had somehow landed there and pulled me into him, pressing us together.

  I closed my eyes too.

  The waves rolled on the beach.

  The wind prickled my skin and toyed with the leaves.

  And his lips caressed mine in a way I had to admit I had never been kissed, not truly.

  We savored and enjoyed the kiss, as if it were a dance.

  I could have been anyone: Eliza Bennett, Anne Elliot, Jane Eyre. The kiss was the kind you only get once. It healed every ill. It ignited passion. And it made me fall in love. One kiss. One silly kiss and I was in love, like a fool.

  The moment it ended I wanted more.

  In him I had found my match. My opposite. My spark.

  Before him I never believed in any of it. My romantic’s heart had wished for it, but my skeptical head said it was a fantasy or only for the worthy, the people like Lainey. Innocent people.

  He proved that wrong.

  I opened my eyes and I saw it in him too. He sighed and for the first time he really smiled. “He gave you good advice.”

  “He knows what I’m going through.”

  “What’s that?” His smile faded.

  “Falling for someone who doesn’t give any clues or signs or effort.”

  “It’s there, I swear it is. I just—” He paused. “I have loved you from the moment I saw you. I just don’t know how to let you in.”

  “Just do it. Just let me in. Let me see the little man behind the curtain.”

  “That’s the problem.” He laughed but it was different, bitter. “I don’t want you to see back there.”

  I pulled his face down for another kiss. “There’s nothing you could have done that I haven’t already—trust me.”

  We didn’t talk about it anymore.

  We didn’t talk.

  We danced.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The Ring

  Love burst with expectations.

  But only to those who had never been in love.

  Before, I imagined it would feel a certain way, and I would be different as a result of the person I was in love with.

  I expected great things from love, in me and in general.

  I would become great.

  But glancing across the room at him, hunched over his computer, typing faster than I could think, I realized love owed me nothing.

  It owed me no promises or changes.

  Love loved me the way I was.

  It didn't want to change me or fix me or perfect anything.

  He was love.

  He was dangerous and precious and frightening.

  Not frightening compared to what we had been through, but in the way I knew losing this tiny thing, tiny connection, tiny obsession, would crush me.

  Something so small could kill me faster than the something huge already trying to kill me.

  And through him I saw that I wasn't so bad.

  I didn't need to be different.

  I needed to be me.

  I needed to stop pretending to be something I wasn't.

  He saw past that anyway.

  It took me a while to understand I needed him not to fix me or perfect me or change me.

  I needed him to love and accept me, all of me, for who I was.

  We never spoke of it and he never offered it, but I could tell that was the way things were with us. He just did and I just was.

  I was more than the girl who had narrowly escaped a psycho killer, and he was more than the guy who had been watching, not unlike the psycho killer had been.

  He was the face bursting through the door—eyes wide, lips trembling.

  He was an angel.

  The scars fading from my arms and legs and abdomen, places a bad person had offered me proof of their hatred, would never fade enough to take it all away. But when he touched them it was as if the marks themselves changed. They each became his signature, his knife, his love, marking me.

  Each time his unsure lips brushed against the hardened skin, they healed the spots a little bit more. I didn't notice a difference in the look but they felt different, less harsh. Maybe they were healing from the inside.

  I was.

  He paused in his typing, lifting his head and giving me a smile. Not a charming smile. He never did charming. He didn't know how to be anything but authentic. “You going to get the Chinese food?”

  “I guess.” My smile was charming. I didn’t know how to be anything but inauthentic.

  “Sierra, I’m starving.” He laughed and said it matter-of-factly, the only tone he had.

  Never would I have imagined a guy making me blush with a plain and boring tone like that one, but he did.

  When a boy looked at you and told you he had loved you from the very instant he saw you, you smiled and pinned that moment somewhere important in your mind. But when he said it with no flair or charm or pretense, voicing it as if it were the most important fact in his life, you did more than just blush.

  He didn't need flair. He had truth. It was all he had.

  I was the most important thing in his life. It was a fact. It was something he not only believed but also lived by. He didn't say it. He didn't try to convince me. He didn't shower me with gifts or niceties. It was just a fact. Every one of his actions showed me.

  I knew he loved me. I believed it like it was the most important fact in my life.

  It was.

  He was.

  Leaving the apartment, I smiled and headed for the place he ordered from every Thursday. He was so weird.

  My phone rang when I got out onto the street. “Hello?”

  “Hey, so we need to see Andrew. I know your dad can do it. Can you make him?” Lindsey had been at me about this for a week.

  “I’m in New York with Finn at his place.” I ignored he
r request.

  “Dude. That’s huge. Seriously?”

  “Yeah.” I couldn’t say it without grinning like a moron.

  “What’s it like?” She lowered her tone.

  “Grungy, exactly what you would expect. Seriously, I feel like a runaway being there. I bought him a new mattress and new sheets and a couch. He literally had nothing. But the weird thing is, I don’t think he’s broke. He’s just indifferent. But he does have these two cats who are super fluffy. When he’s not looking I sniff the black one. I don’t know why. He’s just so soft and fluffy.”

  “Ewww, weirdo.” Lindsey laughed. “So are you staying there?”

  “Just hanging for a couple more hours. He had something to do for some lawyer, not my dad this time.”

  “So he’s working and you’re sniffing his cat?”

  “No.” I laughed. “I’m picking up Chinese and then I’m going to sniff the cat.”

  “You sound different again.” She sighed into the phone. “I thought you might bounce back, but I think something else happened. Something better.”

  “I think so too. But I don’t want to talk about it. I jinx stuff.”

  “Do you ever just wonder about him though—?”

  “Stop! I don’t want to do this. I’ll see what I can do about my dad and meeting with Andrew. But otherwise, no. Finn’s off limits.”

  “Okay, okay. Jeeze. You’re so sensitive,” Lindsey teased.

  “I’ll text when we get back to the Cove. See if you have any dirt on my dad’s secretary. We might be able to bribe her on the Andrew visit.”

  “Did you get Sage to draw the person with the dark hair?”

  I slapped my forehead. “No. I forgot. She texted me but I never texted back. I will. I read the text and somehow that was my answer. I’ve been doing that a lot lately.”

  “And don’t forget we have that history exam this week. It’s the last thing before Christmas break. Thank God. I am so ready for break. Trying to balance school and killers and all the other nonsense has been insane.”

  “Tell me about it,” I muttered as I rounded the corner to the restaurant. “I am going to spend most of my break getting tutored by my boyfriend.” I hadn’t said the word before, ever. Not really. I’d had a thing with a couple of guys and seen a few others, but the classification “boyfriend” had never really crossed my lips.