Prologue #2
Me either. I slide over to another beam, about to slink down for a better view, when a knock echoes through the blackness of the attic.
I pop up straight.
I jerk my head, scanning the dark corners of the loft. What was that?
Another knock, and I jump, feeling a scream rise up my throat. I clamp my hand over my mouth to stop it.
But maybe I should just yell. I don’t want to be here anymore. I watch the black voids, waiting for something to emerge.
Three more knocks vibrate through the attic. I think they’re coming from the kitchen area.
Heading from one beam to the other, I crouch down, spotting Lucas Morrow through a sliver in the panels.
Hunched over the steel work table, he makes notes on his blueprints, and my stomach does that thing where it spins, like an ice skater pulling her arms in close to her body to go faster and faster.
Is he the one who knocked?
His light gray T-shirt is streaked with dirt and patches of sweat, the fabric a little tighter on him than it used to be. I don’t really like it.
I know he’s twenty-four—always have his birthday on my calendar like the rest of the family’s—but he’s looking more and more like my brothers.
The way you can kind of see his body underneath his shirt.
How his arms have little hills on them, up and down, up and down…
And the veins in his hands and neck are always pushing up through the skin.
Girls are always looking at him now. He had girlfriends in high school, but it’s all the time now.
He pulls off his light blue Chicago Cubs cap, slides a hand over the long strands of blond hair on top of his head, and fits it back on, backward this time. I don’t know what Jax had him doing today, but he glows with sweat, the stubble on his jaw glistening.
Lucas was only eight when Madoc took him under his wing as part of the Big Brothers Big Sisters program. He’d lost his dad not long before. As my brothers’ honorary little brother, he’s been a part of the family since before I was born.
“Are you sure she didn’t go outside?” I hear Madoc call out from another room.
“We’re all supposed to stay in the great room,” Hawke shouts. “That’s the rule.”
“When’s the last time you heard from her?”
I sigh at Jax’s question. What does he think? That I stuffed myself in the deep freezer in the kitchen? Got kidnapped? Their kids climb trees taller than my house, but I can’t survive without wearing bubble wrap. Why do they worry more about me?
“Quinn!” Jared growls.
Followed by Madoc’s bellow, “Quinn Livia Caruthers!”
I straighten my spine. I’m in trouble now.
But Lucas moves under me, standing up tall.
“Quinn?” he says in a low voice. “I know you’re there.”
I keep my lips locked together, but I can’t stop the smile rising. He did do the knocking.
“I didn’t tell them where you were,” he tells me, his head still bowed to his blueprints as the rest of my family searches the other rooms.
It’s not like it was hard for him to find me. He showed me this was here in the first place. They found it when Jax was planning the renovations, but it won’t be here for long. He’s tearing down the false ceiling to open up the room.
“You could at least say hi to me,” he says, probably unsure if I can see him through the cracks. “It’s Lucas.”
“Yeah, I know.” I sniffle, the dust up here tickling my nostrils. “I always smell you before I see you.”
A laugh escapes him, and he hops up onto the table and comes at me, opening the latch. A square door big enough for a person to climb through opens up right under my head. “Hey,” he chides, pulling out the collar of his sweaty T-shirt to take a sniff. “Your sister-in-law bought me that cologne.”
And why are you wearing cologne to the lake?
But I don’t ask out loud. I like how he smells, I guess.
He jumps back down, and I slide to the opening, peeking my head out.
He pours over the blueprints. There are lines and numbers—measurements or something—and I can see several sheets for individual buildings. But he inspects one that has a layout of an entire ski resort. His dream project.
He probably brought them with him today to get Fallon’s advice. Madoc’s wife is an architect, and also Lucas’s mentor at the architectural firm where they both work.
“What are you going to call it?” I whisper, glancing around and not seeing anyone else.
He sharpens his pencil. “I’ve tried not to think about it,” he replies. “If I plan too far ahead, it’ll jinx it.”
“Don’t you need a mountain first?”
It’s a ski resort. He’ll need a lot of land.
He nods. “I’ll need investors for that.”
“We have mountains here,” I tell him, hopeful.
He tosses a smirk up at me. “No one flies here for skiing.”
But they could. We have a small ski place about forty minutes away. My parents like it. It has an inn and restaurant and stuff, but I don’t think it brings in people other than locals. Maybe if we were closer to the city, we’d get some tourists.
Unfortunately, I’m not very good at skiing. The other kids are, though. Everyone else loves speed.
I float my eyes around the papers, trying to make out how it would look in real life. There are buildings, ski lifts, chalets...
“Why do they call it the bunny hill?” I ask, remembering that slope being the only one I was good at last winter. And the winter before.
He leans over his blueprints. “Sounds like a question for your journal.”
My journal. Juliet gave me one when I was little and told me to put all of my questions in there. Then, we could work on researching the answers.
I never did, though. I mean, I use the journal, but by the time my family and I sit down to look something up, I don’t care anymore. I just have other questions by then.
“Have you ever tried snowshoeing?” I inquire next.
I don’t like skiing, but maybe if there are other winter activities, I can go to his resort too.
Lucas shakes his head. “That just sounds like work to me.”
I twist my mouth to the side. Does everything have to be fast to be fun?
I point to the chalets dotting the areas around the ski slopes. “Why are the roofs shaped like that?”
They’re like tall, upside-down Vs.
“I don’t know.”
I sneer. “Yes, you do.”
He looks up at me. “And so do you if you think about it for a minute.”
I dig in my eyebrows.
But sure enough, I look back at the houses, ponder if the shape of the roofs help keep in the heat before I remember that chalets are commonplace in mountains. Mountains get a lot of snow. And the steepness of the roofs lets the snow fall off easier.
“Did you figure it out?” he presses after a few moments.
“No.”
“Yes, you did.”
I try to keep my smile inside at the twinkle in his blue eyes, but it starts to peek out. “Maybe.”
I see his cheeks crinkle with a smile as he leans over the table again.
“Quinn!” Jared growls.
I sigh. I guess I should forfeit, but it’s either get into trouble for hiding too well, or get into trouble for stealing ATV keys.
“All right, let’s go outside!” Jared barks. “Spread out. You guys, stay in here and find her. Search the pantry, the closets…”
“Would she have gone into the lake?” Madoc asks as they leave.
I can’t make out Jared’s grumble, but no, I wouldn’t have gone into the lake. I’m not allowed to go alone.
“You’re not going to give them a hint?” Lucas asks as the boys and Dylan shout and slam doors below. “Kade’s going to shut off the lights on you.”
My eyes dart left to right, and for a second, my heart speeds up. I don’t believe in ghosts, but it’s harder to not believe in them in the dark.
“Your brothers are worried,” he points out.
“Why?”
“What do you mean?”
“Why are they always worried?” I ask him. “About me, I mean.”
They worry about their own kids, sure. Madoc is always dragging Kade away from one kind of trouble or another, and Jared is constantly telling Dylan ‘no.’
But I’m not their kid.
“Is it because I’m a girl?” I inquire.
The way they tell it, they were running around town unsupervised, even at my age. Why treat their sister differently?
Lucas looks up at me. “I think…” He hesitates. “I think it’s because they didn’t have the best experience with your parents growing up, Quinn.”
I lower my eyes, anything I was going to say lost on my tongue. Lucas is the only one who tells me the truth.
I share a dad with Madoc, and a mom with Jared. My parents are great with me, but they weren’t around for Madoc and Jared as much when they were younger.
And Jax never had parents. Not really. His and Jared’s dad was a monster, and Jax’s mom left him when he was little. Mine and Jared’s mom took him in when he was a teenager, and she’s a good grandma to Jax’s son Hawke now. Very different from how she was when my brothers were young.
I’ve put the pieces together from overhearing things in my life. I guess it’s just hard to imagine they used to suffer when I didn’t see any of it.
“They want to always be there for you,” Lucas says. “And to make sure you know you’re loved.”
They still don’t trust their parents. Not…completely.
But still, I clear my throat. “Well, you can tell them to stop now.”
He just chuckles. “They won’t ever stop. Your first boyfriend is going to be in for it someday.”
“Not if I like somebody they already like.”
“That might work.” He shrugs. “Or not.”
It’ll work. It’s my only hope.
“You’ll learn how to drive in a few years anyway,” Lucas points out. “You’ll be able to escape them any time you want.”
“Not likely.” I wring out my hand, whipping off a spiderweb I picked up. “Half of my family races something motorized.”
Like I would get very far.
Lucas just laughs—the first time, I notice. He hasn’t laughed in a while.
“Well, then you will too,” he assures.
“You know I won’t.”
My tone is final. I don’t feel that need for speed that the Trents and other Caruthers do. I like walks. And bicycles. And being a passenger.
But he continues, “You could change your mind. When you were eight, you thought you were going to marry me too. Remember that?”