Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
Deacon
I slept in a strange, slanted concrete room with a drain in the center of it—one that I remembered once housing capuchin monkeys. One wall was entirely chain-link fence with a curtain rod affixed to it for a modicum of privacy. No wonder Dove had gotten out of here when the twins had moved in. Still, I was grateful that they’d given me a place to stay, and the bed was surprisingly comfortable.
A whoop of laughter filtered up from the kitchen and I let out a grumble at the loud echo that carried through the house.
How I longed for my room at the Holloway Estate. I missed all the soft furnishings that ate up the sound. I’d take the creepy cherubs over chain-link any day. Unfortunately, the place was no longer available for rent, and since I’d sent the team back to New York, I would’ve been completely spooked to have that entire cavernous place to myself. Not that this place didn’t freak me out. I’d traded The Shining for Saw . The whole night I’d kept dreaming that chainsaw-wielding monkeys were strangling me with their prehensile tails.
Note to self: next time I visit Prickle Island, don’t take Evelyn Lachlan up on her offer of staying in their “spare room.”
I stumbled, tired, down to the makeshift kitchen and found that a good portion of the Lachlan clan had crammed themselves into the place—Crane, Heron, Finch, and Frankie all stood in a circle around the countertop, eating egg and cheese sandwiches that smelled amazing. Meanwhile, Wren sat perched in an old recliner in the corner, crocheting what appeared to be a Christmas stocking.
“Coffee?” Crane offered, sliding a mug across the stainless-steel countertop.
“Yeah, thanks,” I said groggily. “You’re all up early.”
The four of them laughed.
“We’ve been up for hours,” Finch said with a chuckle. “We usually do the rounds before breakfast. Frankie was making egg sandwiches for us, and we thought we’d bring the kiddos some.”
“We’re twenty-two,” Heron said flatly.
“I said what I said. You’ll still be kiddos when I’m fifty-one and you’re forty-two,” she added with a wink.
I wandered over and perched on a barstool as Frankie dished me up a plate of sandwiches and fresh fruit.
“This is wonderful, thank you,” I murmured groggily.
Crane gave Frankie a half hug as he kept eating. “We used to eat dry ramen bricks for breakfast before Frankie took pity on us.”
“Honestly, the spider monkeys have a more refined palette than these two.” Frankie pointed between the twins.
“Is Dove up?” I asked, looking out the window that faced their family home on the top of the hill.
Crane let out a low whistle. “Can’t have her out of his sights for even a day. Yep, he’s got it bad.”
“ He is sitting directly in front of you,” Heron pointed out as Finch smacked her little brother over the head with a tea towel.
“So, you and Dove, huh?” Crane asked.
“I know what’s happening,” I muttered, wiping crumbs from my lips. “You all came back from your shifts this morning to interrogate me.”
“See, I told you he gets us,” Crane quipped.
“That’s because I’ve known you all for a very long time,” I explained.
Frankie leaned in. “What was Finch like as a kid?”
“I’ll pay you fifty bucks not to answer that,” Finch cut in.
I grinned. “She was a hellion just as she is now. Sarcastic. Funny. Didn’t give a crap what other people thought but cared a whole hell of a lot about her animals.”
Frankie leaned into Finch and kissed her shoulder. “Yep, that sounds about right.”
“And these two.” I pointed my fork between the twins before spearing a cube of cantaloupe. “Were only seven years old the last time I saw them, but they were already absolutely feral.”
Frankie’s smile stretched as Finch wrapped an arm around her. “So nothing’s changed there either.”
“Nothing except their facial hair,” I joked.
I pointed to Wren in the corner. “And she had just learned how to make daisy chains and spent her days carrying around a crayon box like a briefcase.”
“I forgot about your crayon box thing!” Finch crooned. She wandered over to the recliner to ruffle Wren’s hair. With a practiced swat, Wren smacked her sister’s hand away and kept her eyes focused on her project.
“I remember little flashes of you,” Heron said, considering me. “You and Dove making up secret code words at dinner. You and Dove running around the café, reading books about dragons. You and Dove rock-pooling at the beach. The two of you were always trying to ditch us.”
“That’s because you were insufferable,” I retorted with a sweet, mocking smile.
“Fair.”
“But just because you were a family friend when we were kids, doesn’t mean we will go any less hard on you than Logan or Hannah or Frankie, got it?”
I blinked at them, wondering why they would put me in the same category as their siblings’ partners. There was definitely some magic energy between Dove and me—well, at least, I felt there was—but I didn’t know if I’d ever have the guts to confess my feelings outright to her, let alone whether she would ever reciprocate them. But her siblings saw it too, saw that there was a spark between us, and even if Dove and I never acknowledged it, I was grateful to know I wasn’t the only one who thought it was there.
This was a lot more than my tired morning brain could convey, though, so instead I asked, “You’re going to be hard on me?”
Heron pointed a spatula at me, making a serious face despite their chosen implement. “Don’t break our sister’s heart,” they said. “Or we will feed you to the crocodiles.”
“I thought the crocodiles get better quality meat than me?”
Finch snorted. “I see Dove has already told you that family joke,” she said. “Well, gang, we’re going to have to finally come up with some new ones.”
“Finally.” Frankie let out a mocking laugh.
“And don’t think about trying to sneak off to bang in the zoo, okay?” Crane said, and Finch smacked him again. “We know all the places. The restaurant, the lookouts, the back alley, the Jeep.”
“The Jeep?” I scoffed. “The others make sense, but the Jeep is right out in the open between the lion and tiger enclosures.”
“Yeah, Hawk and Hannah have definitely banged in that Jeep,” Crane continued.
Finch weighed her head side to side as if debating the truth in that statement. “I’d put money on it.”
“How much?” Heron asked, intrigued.
“You all need to stop betting on your siblings’ relationships,” Frankie scolded them.
“We live on a tiny island,” Crane offered. “There is very little entertainment here in the off-season. Hence the intimidating of the movie star.”
“When does the intimidating part begin?” I joked as I took another long sip of coffee.
“Listen, pretty boy,” Crane said, and the rest of us laughed. “If you hurt Dove, we will?—”
“What?” I cut in. “Put a tarantula in my bed? Put meal worms in my pockets? Hide crickets in my food? You’ve done all of those things to me before.”
“Okay, no more childhood friends are allowed into the family,” Heron decreed, waving their arms into an X.
“And to further add to your point,” I said to the four of them. “Dove is a grown woman who makes her own decisions, and she has made it very clear that she wants nothing to do with me anymore.”
That— apparently —was the funniest thing I’d ever said. All five of them laughed uproariously for several minutes before I could even get a response to the question, “What’s so funny?”
“Uh, besides the fact that the two of you have been in love with each other since you were kids?” Finch asked.
“What?” I exclaimed.
“Look at you! Can you even see yourself?” Finch huffed as she waved me up and down. “You are still clearly in love with her. Normal people don’t sleep in old monkey enclosures for their friends .”
“And she is definitely still in love with him too,” Frankie murmured as she spooned more fruit salad onto my plate.
“You really think she is?” I asked, trying to sound more curious than hopeful.
“Um, hello? Obviously,” Finch said. “Everyone knows except the two of you. You were always like two little aliens from the same planet. I’ve never seen two people more suited to each other.” Frankie pretended to pout, and Finch slung an arm around her. “Except for us, of course, Goldilocks.”
“Of course,” Frankie said, kissing her.
“Maybe we once were close,” I hedged. “But not anymore. Stop laughing!” I shouted, exasperated, but was drowned out by a chorus of more laughter. Even Wren had decided to join in.
I grabbed my coffee and headed out with a shake of my head. But when I opened the door to the monkey enclosure, Evelyn was already standing there.
“Evie, hi,” I greeted, raising my mug to her in toast.
“Hey.” With the sharpness of a bomb sniffer dog, she narrowed her eyes and peered around me into the house, spying the others. “Aren’t you all meant to be getting Daisy ready for that endoscopy?” she asked knowingly.
“Gotta go!” Finch called, and they all scattered like their speakeasy was being raided. “Nice seeing you, Deeks.”
Evelyn shook her head, smiling albeit exasperated. “Dove’s going to get the truck,” she said. “I’ll drive you two down to your private yacht. So fancy,” she added with a laugh. “I know she’s really excited about the fundraiser.”
“Thank you for letting me borrow her for the night, Evie,” I said. “I promise to have her back tomorrow night.”
With a gentle smile, Evelyn reached out and hugged me. It was the perfect kind of mom hug, warm and comforting, and it made me make a mental note to call my mom. I’d been slack with checking in lately. I’d bet Evie and my mom would pick up as if fifteen years hadn’t passed just like Dove and I had.
“I know you’re used to all this flashy stuff,” Evelyn continued in her breezy way. “But look out for Dove, will you? These sorts of big events really freak her out, and I know she really wants to do a good job and impress you.”
“I’ll take care of her,” I vowed.
Evelyn beamed up at me. “You’re a good guy, Deacon,” she said. “More than you give yourself credit for, I think.”
I didn’t know what to do with that statement. It was as if she’d both complimented me and issued me a challenge. These Lachlans really knew how to play mind games. I wandered heedlessly back inside to get my bag, still reeling from what Finch had said. Despite the kiss Dove and I had shared, and the inside jokes, and knowing looks, and the friendship we’d eventually fallen back into, I still hadn’t dared to dream that she still carried a flame for me.
Nerves filled me anew. A dangerous sort of hope grew in my chest. Maybe . Maybe I’d have the courage to ask her if she felt about me the way I’d always felt about her, still felt , even after all this time.
I held a hand to my chest, feeling the outline of the coin beneath my palm—two aliens from the same planet, as Finch had put it. The other side to my coin.