Chapter 4 #2
I stifled a giggle, but Prime seemed to agree with Wannabe. “Wannabe is right, Pearl. For all you know, something could have happened to us, and you were opening the door to the killer.”
“Fine,” Pearl huffed. “You guys are right, but I was finally happy for a second, and I just opened the door, okay?” Her voice cracked. “It won’t happen again.”
“Just be more careful,” Prime said softly, trying to avoid making Pearl cry. “I’ll be back later. Just stay in the cabin with Wannabe, okay?”
Pearl and I both nodded. Neither of us wanted to end up dead.
Prime waited until I was halfway up the steps before he turned away, scanning the treeline again, body slipping right back into the lethal calm he wore like a second skin.
I watched him for one heartbeat longer than I should’ve.
Then I stepped into the safety of Pearl’s cabin, and the door closed behind me.
The quiet hit first.
Not dead quiet, not eerie quiet, just… quiet. Warm. Lived-in. A little cluttered but in a comforting way, like nothing in here was staged or polished or meant to impress a single soul.
Pearl’s cabin smelled like coffee, cinnamon, and paint.
Homey.
“This place is great,” I said as my eyes wandered and took everything in.
Wannabe sat at the small kitchen table by the window with his boots propped on the chair opposite and his hands folded behind his head like he was in a dentist’s waiting room instead of on babysitting duty.
“Hey,” he said with a little chin lift. “I’ll be your protector for the next few hours.”
Pearl laughed, and somehow that helped.
Pearl pulled out a chair for me. “Sit. I’ve got tea. Or coffee. Or water. Or leftover cookies I shouldn’t keep eating unless I want my hips to be the size of a recliner.”
“Coffee is good,” I said quietly.
She bustled around the tiny kitchen, starting the coffee pot, pulled out a mismatched mug with a sunflower on it, and fussed over me like we were just friends catching up, not like we were all in the middle of a murder mystery.
It was… normal.
She set the steaming cup of coffee in front of me, and then I folded my hands around the ceramic mug to let the warmth settle into my palms.
Pearl took her own seat across from me with her elbows on the table and studied me like I was a puzzle she wanted to understand.
“How’re you?” she asked gently.
I should have been the one asking her how she was. “I should be the one asking you that.”
Pearl waved me off. “I’m fine. I’d rather not think about, well, me right now.”
“Uh, well, I’m okay. I mean, of course, I’m worried about everything, but I’m okay. Prime is… well, he’s…”
Pearl laughed. “Is he driving you crazy?”
I glanced at Wannabe. Not that I was going to bash or say anything bad about Prime, but it felt weird talking about him in front of one of his biker buddies or whatever they called each other.
Pearl waved her hand at Wannabe. “Forget everything you hear for the next couple of hours, Wanna.”
Wannabe nodded. “Makes shit easier for me that way.”
Pearl turned back to me expectantly.
“Um, Prime is fine. He’s really protective and… nice? But then he’s also…” I wasn’t sure of the right word.
“Grumpy but also caring?” she suggested.
I mean, that was spot on. “Yeah, like he’s grumpy and firm, but it’s not like in a mean way. It’s really hard to describe.”
Pearl laughed. “Honey, I am living it with Anchor. I love that man, but sometimes he can give me whiplash from being bossy and protective, then sweet as can be.”
It was nice to know that Pearl was dealing with the same thing, but it was still different because she was with Anchor while I was a burden to Prime.
“Uh, so what have you been doing the past couple of days?” I asked. I didn’t want to talk about Prime anymore. I didn’t know what to think about him, and I wasn’t ready to figure the man out.
Pearl sighed. “Uh, you know. Trying to wrap my head around Bernice being gone. She was a crazy old lady, but she was my crazy old lady, ya know?” She laughed sadly. “It’s just been hard.”
My chest tightened. “I’m sorry. I didn’t really know her, but—”
“You would have loved her,” she cut in. “And she would have loved you, too.”
Wannabe scoffed.
Pearl glared at him. “She would have loved Shay in the way that Bernice loved people.”
“I’m sure she was great,” I replied.
Pearl stared off for a few seconds and sighed. “I miss her. I keep wanting to go knock on her door and ask if she wants breakfast. Or complain about the boys. Or tell her about the painting I’m working on.” She shook her head. “I forget. Then I remember.”
My eyes stung. “She sounded amazing.”
“She was.” Pearl blinked hard and cleared her throat. “We’re not doing a funeral. That wasn’t her way. When all this settles, when we’re not in danger or looking over our shoulders, we’re going to do a celebration of life down by the lake.”
“That sounds perfect.”
“She was only here the few weeks it took to paint the haunted house, but I knew she liked it here. She never said it, but the only way she was going to leave was if Anchor and the club kicked her out.”
Tears burned behind my eyes. I had never met Bernice, but her being gone really hit me. “I wish I had known her,” I whispered.
Pearl reached across the table and squeezed my hand.
We sat at the table for a couple of hours just talking.
Getting to know each other. Pearl insisted that even if we hadn’t both wound up at the island like we did, we still would have wound up friends.
I begged to differ, but I didn’t have the heart to tell her.
The homeless grocery store checker and the insanely talented painter were not a normal friendship made in heaven.
“Anchor mentioned that you have memories of being here when you were young?”
I cringed. “I mean, they are not exactly solid memories. Just flashes of… things.”
“That’s kind of crazy. When did the club take over the island?” she asked Wannabe.
Wannabe squinted. “Hell, I’m not really sure. I know Bob and Skull have been with the club for close to twenty years. Anchor has been Prez for fifteen, I think.”
I quirked my lips. “Yeah, I think what I am getting flashes of is from like twenty-three years or so ago. I know I was here because my mom always said we should stay away from Skull Island.”
“Ominous,” Pearl whispered.
“Anchor took over after the club sort of imploded with shit with the former Prez and members. I’ve only been here a few months, so I don’t really know much except for what I hear from the guys,” Wannabe explained. “From what I hear, shit was crazy.”
I nodded. I mean, crazy shit was kind of expected from a motorcycle club, right? At least that’s the vibe I got from what I had seen on TV.
Pearl’s stomach growled loudly, and she laid her hand over it. “Come on, let’s get some lunch in you before my stomach starts trying to communicate with us.”
“What are we making?” I asked.
“Sandwiches and a salad. I’m good at sandwiches. If I try anything fancier, I burn the place down.” She pointed at Wannabe. “He’ll cut the vegetables.”
Wannabe pulled out a pocket knife and saluted with it. “Yes, ma’am.”
We made lunch together, with Pearl slicing bread, me spreading mayo, and Wannabe chopping tomatoes loud enough to sound like he was murdering the cutting board.
We ate at the little table, Pearl talking lightly about Bernice and painting.
Every story made Bernice feel closer.
Every laugh made my chest hurt less.
Every glance Pearl gave me felt like someone pulled me gently out of the dark.
Halfway through her sandwich, Pearl’s expression softened again.
“When I feel like I can walk through the door,” she said, “we’ll need to go through Bernice’s cabin. Clean up. Pack her things. Decide what gets kept and what gets donated.”
My heart squeezed. “I’d like to help.”
Pearl’s smile was small and warm. “Perfect. I’ll let you know when I’m up to it.”
We finished our sandwiches in comfortable silence. Pearl started filling the sink with soapy water while I collected the plates and passed them to her. Wannabe took the cue to stand next to Pearl with the drying towel in his hand, ready and waiting.
“I’ll dry,” he grumbled when Pearl tried to shoo him away. “Anchor’ll give me hell if I don’t earn my keep.”
Pearl snorted. “Anchor gives you hell no matter what you do.”
“True,” Wannabe said. “But this way, he doesn’t yell as much.”
It only took us a few minutes to do the dishes, and then we headed to the cozy couch with a crocheted blanket tossed over the back of it. A shelf full of VHS tapes that looked like they were older than me was underneath the VCR, with a small TV on top of it.
“I know everyone has streaming now, but Skull Island does not,” Pearl laughed as she ran her fingers over the faded plastic spines.
“I can’t remember the last time I watched a movie,” I chuckled. “Let alone one on a VHS.”
“I know, right?” Pearl pulled a tape free and held it up triumphantly. “Here. Pirates of the Caribbean. The first one. I watched it once, and if I remember right, the sound gets fuzzy halfway through.”
“I love that movie, and I can just stare at Orlando Bloom even if I can’t hear what he is saying.” I fanned myself with my hand and laughed.
“See, we are meant to be friends because we aren’t going to fight over the same guy. You can have Orlando; I will take Johnny Depp.”
“Yeah, Johnny is all yours,” I reassured her.
“Oh thank God,” she said, sagging with relief. “I can’t share Johnny.”
“You’re both freaking crazy, and I’m telling Anchor,” Wannabe called from the table.
Pearl silenced him with a glare. “You will do no such thing. Did you forget that you are supposed to forget?”
“Yeah, he forgot to forget,” I laughed.
“Jesus,” Wannabe murmured.
“Start forgetting, Wannabe. The second Anchor comes through that door, I don’t want you to even remember your name,” Pearl warned, but she couldn’t help but laugh.
I snorted. “No danger of that.”
Pearl and I settled onto the couch while the opening trailers played, and Wannabe dropped into the recliner with a satisfied grunt.
As the movie started, Pearl curled into the opposite corner of the couch with her legs tucked under her, and her cup of tea cradled in her hands. Every so often, she’d quote a line under her breath before Johnny Depp even said it, a habit she didn’t even seem aware of.
I couldn’t help but laugh.
Wannabe did not find it as funny. After the fifth time she did it, he scolded her to shut it.
I liked being here.
And for the first time since stepping foot on this island, I didn’t feel like a stranger they’d accidentally scooped up with the weekly groceries.
I felt… connected.
At one point, the film glitched, giving Jack Sparrow an extra-long dramatic blink. Pearl and I busted out laughing while Wannabe snorted without looking away from the screen.
My head sank back against the couch cushion, and a slow exhale slipped out before I could catch it.
My eyes drifted toward the door.
Prime was out there somewhere. Doing… something. Something dangerous, probably. Something important. Something that made his jaw tighten and his shoulders tense and his voice drop into that low, controlled tone that did terrible things to my heart rate.
I shouldn’t have been thinking about him.
I definitely shouldn’t have been looking forward to the moment he walked through that door again.
But I was.
More than I wanted to admit.
The couch was warm. Pearl was murmuring along with the movie. Wannabe mumbled something about cursed treasure.
And I realized I liked this.
This small, safe, ridiculous moment.
I liked Pearl.
I liked Wannabe acting like he was annoyed to be here, but I could tell he was enjoying the movie.
And God help me…
I liked the idea of Prime coming back to find me here.
Safe.
Relaxed.
Waiting for him.