Chapter 5
Why had she let her sister talk her into going to dinner? Elodie had known the residents of Skye wouldn’t forget—or forgive—easily. Tonight had been proof of that. Just another example that Skye was Hell.
She pulled her gaze from the many stars dotting the night sky. No amount of wishing would take her anywhere else. The only thing she could do was deal with things on the island and then get out as fast as she could.
Elodie turned to her car as she fished out her keys.
Her gaze collided with a man’s. Her heart jumped into her throat for an instant at discovering someone watching her.
He was near the pub, standing beneath a light so she could see him, though not in detail.
He looked near her age with dark hair and a beard that was just past a five o’clock shadow.
Six feet, at least. Rugged build. A face cut from granite.
Eyes that seemed to stare right into her soul.
“Hi. I didna mean to intrude. I saw what happened inside,” he said as he hitched a thumb over his shoulder. “I was leaving and wanted to make sure you were all right.”
“I’m fine.” She unlocked her door and opened it to get inside.
“You should’ve stayed.”
Elodie paused and looked at him, taking in his tall stature.
He stood casually near the corner of the pub and shot her a lazy smile that probably charmed women—not her.
He had his hair trimmed short on the sides and back with the top longer, styled in that effortless look achieved with product by a man who knew how to do his hair.
His wide lips held that smile as he watched her. She wondered what color his eyes were. She couldn’t tell from the distance, and she had no intention of getting closer. He was clearly a man who took care of himself, and she’d bet that he had the body to prove it.
“I’m not in the habit of subjecting myself to that kind of disdain.” Though she had no idea why she bothered to answer him at all. The fact that he’d followed her outside made her uneasy. “What do you want?”
His lips twisted as he shrugged his shoulders. “I just wanted to tell you that the hostility of a few shouldna keep you from enjoying yourself.”
As if there were anything about Skye to enjoy. Once, she would’ve named a multitude of things, but the incident had ripped off her rose-colored glasses.
“I’m Scott, by the way,” he said. “Scott Ryan.”
Elodie watched him for a moment longer. A part of her wanted to have a conversation, but she knew that now wasn’t the time. She hadn’t yet pulled herself out of her current situation. She gave him a nod of acknowledge and climbed into her car.
On the drive back to the cottage, she kept thinking about what Scott had said. He likely would’ve learned all about her from those in the pub. Why had he really approached her? He wanted something. She was certain of that.
Was he a reporter? Come to dig into her father’s death?
Was he some newcomer to Skye who wanted a shot at sleeping with her?
The one thing Elodie had learned was that everyone wanted something.
Power. Money. Love. Everything was up for grabs, and the sooner a person realized that everyone was after something, the easier it was to maneuver and navigate the complex and constantly changing battleground called life.
Edie had called her jaded, and she was cynical. She had every right to be.
“If you keep looking for the worst, then that’s what you’ll find.”
Her mother’s words rattled around in her mind, causing her throat to clog with emotion. Elodie wished she could see the best in everything as Edie did. How could she, though, when she kept getting shite on again and again? She’d start to pull herself out of the gutter, only to get trampled.
It wouldn’t be long now. The cottage was clean, and she was starting on the outside tomorrow.
Her list of needed repairs was growing ever longer.
A part of her was irritated at Edie for allowing the cottage to fall into disrepair, but then she remembered that it wasn’t just Edie’s fault.
She and Elias also shared in that burden, and neither of them had done anything.
Why should Edie have to do it all just because she chose to stay on the island?
Elodie was glad that her sister hadn’t held a grudge because Edie had every reason to be upset with her and Elias.
When Elodie pulled into the cottage’s drive, she parked the car and turned off the engine.
She had left lights on inside. It gave the appearance that the house was occupied, as if a family lived there once more.
But she knew the only inhabitants were the ghosts of the past. Remnants of a time when she had thought the world was hers for the taking and people would always love her and be there for her.
The truth, however, clung to the cottage like mist and cobwebs. And there was no running from the truth. Ever.
She should know. She had been trying to do it for fifteen years.
Elodie exited her car and slowly made her way to the cottage’s side door just as rain began to pelt her.
She caught a glimpse of the cove. They had gone down to the water to swim on many occasions.
Memories of weekends lying on the beach and soaking up the sun made her grin.
Skye had been an enchanted place for her once.
She’d thought its beauty and the magic that brought the Druids together was as close to a utopia as there was.
Her happy memories of the beach floated away like smoke. She unlocked the door and stepped inside. At least the cottage smelled clean. No more dampness or stale air greeted her when she entered.
Elodie dropped her purse onto the sofa that had seen better days.
It was dated, but at least the fabric had held up, mainly because of lack of use.
The same could be said for the two chairs.
The carpet, on the other hand, was awful.
It needed to be replaced. It would make the cottage sell quicker. But it all came down to the funds.
One of the reasons for dinner with Edie had been to go over some of the needed repairs.
Elodie had wanted to wait until she cleaned the outside, as well as the garage, but she thought her sister had a right to know what they were looking at.
Elodie could clean. She also had a few skills in mending simple things, but she couldn’t replace the roof, fix the moldy section of cabinet she found near the kitchen sink, or replace carpet.
She and Edie had never spoken about how much would go into the house.
Elodie had just assumed that all she needed to do was clean to get it ready to be put up for sale.
“Wishful thinking,” she murmured.
The house had sat untouched for years. A lot of damage could happen in that amount of time.
The roof, for example. How long had it been leaking?
They needed to address the water damage, which meant she had to inspect the attic.
At this rate, she would never get her share of the proceeds to leave.
Which brought her back to who was going to pay for the repairs.
She didn’t have any money. Could Edie and Trevor cover it?
Was it even fair to ask them to do that?
What about Elias? Either way, when the cottage sold, they should get back whatever money they put into repairs.
The cottage might have a decent view, but her father’s murder would be disclosed. That would put off some buyers. It would likely mean taking a lower price on the house, as well. And that would result in Elodie’s cut being even smaller.
“What other choice do I have?” she asked the universe. “I didn’t want to come back. I did everything I possibly could to stay away. Yet here I am. I don’t belong on Skye. I don’t think I ever did.”
No one had asked about her magic. Why would they? Of course, Edie would assume that she still had it. What an awkward conversation that would be. Elodie wasn’t sure she could even explain what had happened or when. All she knew was that her magic was gone and had been for years.
She went to the cupboard and looked at the meager offerings she had for dinner. Maybe she shouldn’t have left the pub. Edie—and even the guy, Scott, outside—had said that she should’ve stayed. It had been too much for Elodie, though. The looks, the comments.
The hatred.
Not everyone despised her, but there had been enough loathing in the room to choke her.
Which it had done. She wouldn’t have been able to get anything down.
Though she really couldn’t blame people for how they felt.
She hadn’t exactly been a good neighbor or friend.
She had wanted the pain to stop, and she had tried anything and everything to make sure that happened.
Drinking. Drugs. Sex. The trifecta.
When boys her age didn’t wipe away the agony and grief, she’d gone after older men, hoping they might help.
But they hadn’t. And she hadn’t cared if they were married or not.
If they showed even the least bit of interest—and sometimes if they hadn’t—she had gone after them.
The number of families she had destroyed in her bid to stop her pain was humiliating.
She’d hate her, too, if she were in their shoes.
She’d spent years detesting herself for what she had done, which had only sunk her deeper into misery instead of helping.
Even when she stopped the self-loathing, she carried what she had done with her like a stone chained to her neck. There was never a time she put the incident or her behavior behind her. She revisited it each and every day. Always a reminder of the despicable human she had once been.
“I’m sorry, Mum,” Elodie said. “I know I promised you I’d make a good life for myself, but…I haven’t been able to.”
Her throat clogged again. A part of Elodie wanted to give in to the emotion and see if a good cry might wash away her sins and hurt, but she had cried oceans, and it had done nothing to erase the past.
That wasn’t the only thing she had to contend with. There was also what’d happened in Edinburgh. Her sins were slowly choking the life out of her. When would she stop fucking everything up?