Chapter 20
CHAPTER TWENTY
Declan
“Dammit, Lucy. Why’d you do that?” I snarl, already moving toward the door.
She crosses her arms, unbothered. “How was I supposed to know she’s not just one of your ink groupies?”
“She’s not.”
I’m out the door before Lucy can say another word. The bell slams against the glass as I step outside. Emery’s already half a block away, marching toward the cemetery, shoulders stiff.
“Oh no, you don’t.”
My longer stride eats up the distance. I hook an arm around her waist from behind and lift her clean off her feet.
She yelps, kicking midair. “Let go!”
“Stop fighting me.”
“Put me down!” She struggles even harder.
“Have it your way.” I band my arms around her tighter and haul her toward my shop. People stare at us with open mouths, but folks know me around here and won’t interfere.
“Declan! Put me down.” She goes boneless, turning herself into dead weight. Damn stubborn woman. I set her down carefully, keeping my hands on her waist to steady her. She whirls on me, eyes blazing with accusations.
“Promise you’ll listen?” I hold up my hands in surrender. “It’s not what you think. Lucy’s only a friend. We’ve known each other since we were kids. She works in the shop with me part-time.”
“Does she know you’re only friends?” Emery sneers.
Is she jealous?
“Yes. Of course she does.” I hesitate, jaw tight. “She’s like a little sister to me.”
My chest aches when I say it—maybe because the word sister still stings to use.
“Oh, please! Who calls their brother Big D?” Emery snaps.
I snort, then full-out laugh. “Lucy. She couldn’t say my name when we were kids. I was the biggest kid in our school.” I shrug. “She started calling me that and it stuck. Eddie down at the weed shop calls me that too.”
She frowns and glances in the direction I’m pointing. “Eddie at the weed shop, huh? That’s your alibi?”
“I don’t need an alibi.” Dammit. Should I really be sharing this with Emery? Lucy’s the one who put me in this position in the first place. No, it doesn’t matter, it’s not my secret to share.
Emery’s glare could melt steel. “So why’d she act like a wolverine marking her territory?”
Laughter bursts out of me. “Wolverine, huh?”
She lifts her chin. “Comparing her to a cat seems too cliché.”
Christ, her clever mouth kills me. I grin and hold out my hand. “Will you come back to the shop and let me properly introduce you to my friend Lucy?”
She eyes my hand for a long second, then slips hers into mine. I pull her closer, the tension between us melting away.
Why does she feel so good pressed up against me? Like we were made to fit together. I lean down and kiss the top of her head.
She tips her chin up, staring at me with curious eyes. “Why’d you do that?”
“I missed you,” I admit, voice rough. “Been thinking about you all day. What’ve you been up to?”
Color blooms across her cheeks. “Just…researching the town a little more.”
“Find anything interesting?”
“Maybe.” Her tone’s, teasing, but questions still linger in her eyes. About me? About us? Whatever they are, I hope I’ll have an answer for her when she finally asks.
“Mrs. Applewood told me the missing kid was found,” she adds.
“Mason,” I say. “I heard.”
“Apparently he took a bus to Virginia to meet some girl he met online.”
“That’s what I heard too.” I huff out a breath. “Kids.”
“Lucky,” she says quietly. “That could’ve gone very differently.”
Don’t I know it.
I push through the shop door and hold it open for Emery. Her fingers curl tighter around mine as if she’s nervous. About being introduced to one of my friends or is she still worried there’s more to my relationship with Lucy?
Lucy glances up from behind the counter, a cup of coffee halfway to her mouth. Her lips wobble into a nervous smile and she sets the cup back down with a thunk.
“Hi,” Lucy says tentatively. “I take it you’re not here to book some ink?”
“Maybe later,” Emery says, glancing up at me, a shy smile forming on her lips.
A bolt of lust that has nothing to do with the Rider or being marked and everything to do with Emery shoots down my spine. From what I saw she doesn’t have a single tattoo. Would she let me give her the first?
“Declan?” Emery elbows me in the ribs.
“Huh? Sorry.” I nudge her forward. “Lucy, this is Emery. Emery, my friend, Lucy.”
Lucy squints at Emery. “You look familiar.”
“Emery has a YouTube channel,” I explain since Emery seems tongue-tied. “She does videos about ghost stories, folklore, stuff like that.”
Lucy’s eyebrows shoot up. “Ghost stories? You?” She turns her sharp gaze back to me. “That’s…unexpected.”
“I don’t sensationalize things,” Emery says quickly, straightening her shoulders. “I try to find the truth behind the legends.”
“Truth,” Lucy repeats, tasting the word like it’s sour. “You’re one of those people who shows up to ‘prove’ nothing’s real, right?”
Emery fidgets. “Well, no.”
In the short amount of time I’ve known Emery, I haven’t seen her flustered. She always seems eager to prattle on about her channel. Or crows. Is she off-balance because Lucy’s my friend? Or is she still jealous?
“You’re just a skeptic, right?” Lucy sneers.
“Lucy,” I warn quietly.
“Not really.” Emery seems to shake off her unease. “I prefer to debunk stories and reveal the truth. In a respectful way.”
“Her investigations are solid,” I say, feeling compelled to defend Emery.
Emery cranes her neck to stare up at me with wide, surprised eyes.
Lucy flicks her gaze to the ceiling but doesn’t back down. “You know what happens when outsiders start snooping around here, D. They stir up trouble. Then it’s on you to fix it again.”
Emery blinks. “Fix it?”
“Lucy.” I put a hand on the counter, my tone sharper. “Enough.”
Her jaw tightens, but she finally looks away. “You know I’m right,” she mutters.
Emery’s gaze bounces between us. “What’s she talking about?”
“Nothing you need to worry about,” I say, maybe a little too fast. “Lucy’s protective of me, that’s all.”
“Protective?” Lucy snorts. “Try realistic. You barely keep the curse quiet as it is. Now you’re cozying up to someone whose whole career is built on exposing hoaxes.” She turns to Emery, voice dry as sandpaper. “No offense.”
Emery holds Lucy’s gaze. “Lots taken.”
“Enough,” I sigh.
Lucy matches my sigh, but she nods. “Fine. I’m going to unpack that sterilizer.” She throws one more stink eye Emery’s way then heads down the hallway.
Emery scowls in Lucy’s direction. “So, she knows?”
“She knows enough,” I admit. “It’s hard to live here your whole life and not see things.”
“And she’s worried I’ll bring you unwanted attention?”
“Probably.” I rub the back of my neck. “She’s protective.”
A slight smirk twists Emery’s lips. “Protective? Of you?” She waves her hands in the air in front of me. “You’re…you’re like a perfect specimen of masculinity and strength.”
“Barf!” Lucy gags and pretends to choke from somewhere down the hall.
Emery rolls her eyes, but her mouth twitches, betraying a hint of laughter. “I think I like her.”
“She grows on you,” I mutter.
“Sounds like she’s worried about you,” Emery says. “You make it seem like the curse is contagious.”
I exhale slowly and gesture to her arm. “It kind of is.”
She scowls and yanks her sleeve up, staring at the pulsing green mark. “That’s not funny.”
“Wasn’t trying to be.”
The silence stretches, uneasy and charged. The Rider’s mark prickles beneath my shirt, a faint burn like static against my skin.
Emery tilts her head, studying me. “You okay?”
“Fine.” I shake it off and force a grin. “Lucy brings out my best side.”
“Uh-huh.” Emery’s lips curve. “And here I thought that I do.”
It’s meant as a tease, but her voice dips low enough that it hits deeper and spikes my pulse. “Careful,” I warn. “You’re already good at it.”
She raises an eyebrow. “At what?”
“Getting under my skin.”
Before she can answer, the lights overhead flicker—just once—but long enough for both of us to glance up and share matching what-the-hell looks.
Lucy calls from the back room, “If that’s the power again, I’m going home!”
“Probably just a glitch,” I call back.
Emery’s eyes stay on me, unblinking. “You sure about that?”
No. Not even close.
But I nod anyway. “Sure. It’s an old building. Happens all the time.”
She scowls but doesn’t ask any follow-up questions. “Maybe I’ll head out.” She turns toward the door. “And leave you two to your electrical drama.”
I take a step toward her before I can stop myself. “Emery—”
She pauses, glancing over her shoulder.
“Stay. I’m going to close up soon,” I say. “Let me take you to dinner.”
Her cheeks flush and she glances down as if she’s suddenly shy. “Now?”
“Yes.”
“I’d like that,” she says, still not looking up at me.
A knot of tension in my chest loosens. I don’t want Emery out of my sight. And not just so I can protect her from the Rider. She’s so damn stubborn, though, that if I tell her that, she’ll probably march right out the door and go twirl around in the cemetery just to spite me.
“Good. There’s a little place right down the street. Doesn’t look fancy from the sidewalk but it’s good. Real food.” I lift my chin at the bag of fudge in her hands. “Not sugar.”
“Sugar’s my favorite food group.” She tilts her head in an endearing way. “But you have my attention.”
Lucy reappears in the hallway, drying her hands on a rag. “You taking off?”
“Would you mind closing up?” I ask. “We’re going to grab dinner.”
Lucy flicks her gaze between us, one brow arched. “Sounds good.”
“Do you want to join us?” Emery asks.
I slide a glance Emery’s way but her attention’s focused on Lucy, her expression earnest.
Lucy’s gaze darts between Emery and me. Part of me would love for them to get to know each other but the big, selfish bastard in me wants Emery all to myself tonight.
“Another time.” Lucy nods. “Thank you, though.” She aims a playful smirk at Emery. “Don’t let him talk you into anything—that man’s trouble.”
Emery tips her head back, her eyes meeting mine. A spark of humor lights up her face. “I’ve noticed.”
Laughing, Lucy gives us a mock salute and disappears into the back.
I touch Emery’s shoulder. “Thank you for offering.”
“It’s not that I don’t want to be alone with you,” Emery murmurs. Damn, why does that sound like the best idea ever? “But she’s your friend...”
Her voice trails off almost as if she’s asking a question. Is she making sure Lucy’s just a friend? Or wondering if she should start caring about the people in my life—the way someone does when they’re thinking about sticking around.
Do I want her to stick around? I shouldn’t want more. Not with her. Not with anyone. Not with the curse threading between us like a live wire. But every time I’m in her presence, I hate the thought of her leaving.
I take her hand. “We’ve been friends for a long time.”
A soft, playful smile flickers over her lips. “She must be a very patient woman.”
The Rider’s mark beneath my shirt thrums in warning, stopping me from laughing at her joke. I clear my throat and reach for my keys. “Let’s get going. It’s a small place. Gets crowded fast.”
She steps away from the door and sweeps her hand in front of her. “Lead the way.”
I push the door open, the bell giving a single metallic ring that sounds more like an omen than an alert.
Outside, the fog has thickened again, swallowing the glow from the streetlamps.
Emery steps past me, her arm brushing mine. For a split second, the green mark on her wrist slips free of her sleeve and shimmers under the weak light, making my pulse stutter.
She glances back, eyebrows raised like she didn’t feel a thing. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Right behind you.”
But as I lock the door and follow her down the sidewalk, I can’t shake the feeling that something else follows too.