Chapter 3
JOSIAH
I stared at the stunning woman who sat on Coral's bed, her dark hair tucked behind her ear. With the teddy bear in her arms, she looked almost vulnerable. That was an illusion. I knew better. She stood up to me without flinching. The woman had backbone.
She also had some wild fucking ideas.
I snatched the bear from her and placed it back against Coral's pillow.
"You need to leave." I shattered the rapport I let myself start to feel and slammed my walls back up hard. I shouldn't have let her in here. I should have taken my nails and insisted she leave. She was trespassing on private property as it was. And trespassing on private matters.
I ignored her wince as she pushed herself to her feet.
Whatever was going on, it was none of my business, just like Coral Clarke was not hers.
Fucking city girl coming up here, to my home.
Trying to get under my skin. I didn't know what agendas she had and I didn't give a shit.
She needed to do what everyone else did, leave me the fuck alone.
"I just thought, if it's—" she started.
"You don't know what you're saying," I snapped. "Get the hell out and don't come back up here. For the last time: stay. The fuck. Away. From. Me."
I would have turned and walked out then and there, but I needed to be sure she left. Women like this, they thought they could do whatever they liked. She'd probably rifle through the house, trying to come up with some reason to be here.
"What if I'm right?" she asked softly.
"You're not." Since she was continuing to be stubborn, I grabbed her wrist and pulled her toward the front door.
"Why not?" She stepped out, but turned to face me as I firmly locked the door. "It would explain why I know about this place. I knew what that room looked like before I stepped foot in it."
I moved toward her, trying to intimidate her with my height and size. I could have picked her up, thrown her into the creek, and barely raised a sweat. If she didn't leave soon, I might be tempted to do it. I wasn't the serial killer I joked about being, but she was pushing me past all my limits.
"Why would you want any of that?" I asked, in spite of myself. "You know what she must have gone through. You really want that for yourself? Do you know how fucked up that sounds?"
"Who said I wanted it?" She lifted her chin and looked me right in the eyes. "Do you think I want to have been kidnapped? Taken away from everyone I cared about? Away from this place." She spread her hands to indicate around her.
"I don't know what you want," I said. The way her eyes flashed made my cock twitch and I hated that.
Hated that I wanted her. Hated that I wanted to pin her underneath me and fuck her harder than she'd ever been fucked before.
Hated that I wanted her to straddle my hips and ride me until I came inside her.
Hated that I let her in, even a little bit.
"I want to know what the truth is." She dropped her hands to her sides.
"The truth is, you're a city girl with a vivid imagination," I said. "That's all. You think this is some kind of fairytale? It's not. You're not a long-lost princess. And I'm not a long lost prince."
"I was thinking Beauty and the Beast," she said dryly. "Do you have a library?"
Of course I did. What else would I do with my winter nights up here? Cleaning and maintaining these cottages, and the lodge, took my daylight hours. I needed something to do after sunset. I told her none of that. She was encouraged enough as it was.
"Do you hear that? Your boyfriends are calling you." I tucked the keys back into my pocket and stalked away to my own little house.
"Now I get it," she said after me. "You're Superman and this is the Fortress of Solitude. That explains the super hearing."
I snorted and went on walking, without looking back over my shoulder. I wasn't super anything. If I had the superhero's speed, I would have been able to stop them from taking Coral.
Instead, I relived that moment over and over.
Hands on her as they shoved her into the back of the dark blue sedan.
A glint of sunlight on the roof as they drove away, bright enough to force me to cover my eyes.
There was no squeal of tyres. No roar of the engine.
They just took her and left. Not in a hurry, but still faster than I could run.
I didn't need super hearing to hear the door of her car close before she also drove away. Finally. Only when I couldn't hear her vehicle anymore, I turned to watch the last of the dust settle back into place.
Silence crowded in from all four sides, only broken by the light breeze through the canopy.
And the sound of the creek as it meandered past, mocking me, because the water knew my secret, but didn't care to share it with anyone else.
It wouldn't tell the rest of the world Coral hadn't fallen in and been swallowed by the current.
No, the creek was even better at keeping secrets than I was.
I shook my head at my own thoughts and pushed open the heavy timber door to my house.
The silence was thicker here. Since my parents retired and left, it seemed to hang like an oversized blanket.
It should have been comforting, but it was smothering at the same time.
After Leah's visit, it seemed even more oppressive.
Sometimes I thought about leaving the mountain. Starting over and never looking back. Going where no one knew me, or what happened. Find a place I could live a normal life.
Then I reminded myself of the promise I made. Everyone else could think she was dead if that made them feel better. I was going to keep believing otherwise. Until I decided differently, I was going to maintain her house and her room.
I turned on the old coffee maker and made myself a sandwich. While I ate, I kept half an eye on the window. I wouldn't put it past Leah to turn up again and have a look around.
Why had she thought she might be Coral? Okay, she guessed a few details, but she didn't look like Gavin Clarke, or his wife.
Ex-wife; whatever. Not what I could remember much about Susan Clarke anyway.
She was quiet and tended to keep to herself.
She had Coral on a short leash up until she left.
No one ever talked about why she walked away.
Not to me anyway. One day she was there and the next day she wasn't.
Like her daughter. The only thing I was certain of was they hadn't left together.
I washed my sandwich down with coffee and remembered the nails Leah brought up with her.
I rinsed my dishes and hurried outside to find them.
It didn't take me long, they lay in the dirt, right beside the spot where she'd fallen to her knees.
The place when she'd knelt, looking back at me with her face ashen. Lips apart, eyes wide.
Stop thinking about her on her knees, I told myself.
Picturing her made me hard. That was too many kinds of fucked up.
Even if Connor and Riley weren't involved with her, she wasn't going to involve herself with me.
I wouldn't let her. She wouldn't want to be stuck up here, ostracised from everyone.
The silence would drive her crazy in a day or two.
The sideways glances every time she went into Aurora Hollow to buy groceries.
The accusing looks and curled lips. She deserved better than that.
A small part of me, tucked away where I could barely acknowledge it, said maybe I deserved better than that too. I shoved that away, hard. If I’d got Coral to help me with the raking… If I'd run faster, shouted louder…
No, I'd earned the animosity, the sneers, the reflection I hated whenever I looked in the mirror.
I leaned over to pick up the bag and carry it to my workshop.
She'd never know, but I was grateful she took the time to drive the nails up here.
I hated going into town. If I ever forgot for a moment how they felt about me, all I had to do was step through any doorway. The townsfolk would soon remind me.
I set the nails down on my work bench and smoothed a hand over the top of the dollhouse I was making. This one had tiny shutters, and doors and windows that worked. The blue roof was a change for me. Usually they were green, brown or grey. I liked this colour; it reminded me of Leah's eyes.
I picked up a small wooden chair and checked the paintwork on the back and arms. I'd had to touch up a couple of sections that weren't exactly how I wanted them, but they were better now.
Satisfied, I placed them in a box, along with the rest of the tiny furniture.
Including a fridge and microwave, all made by hand.
I carried the dollhouse out to my truck and placed the box beside it. Roping everything down, I tied a firm knot to keep it all from moving, and climbed into the driver's seat.
With loud, classic rock coming through the speakers, I navigated the bends down the mountain, through Aurora Hollow, until the land became flat.
For kilometre after kilometre, there was nothing until I reached my destination.
A larger town, surrounded by farmland. Big enough for a stranger to step foot in town without the gossip train doing the rounds in sixty seconds flat.
I could walk around here for a short time without notice. A short time was all I needed.
I parked in front of a flat building, climbed out and untied the dollhouse and box and tossed the rope down on the bed.
Lifting them out of the back of the truck, I left the toys where I always did, beside the door.
No note, no fanfare. Everything would be given to a kid in need.
Someone who had nothing else to play with.
Someone who'd appreciate the hours I put into making all of this. A kid who needed something to smile at.
Not for thanks. Not for money. Just in the hope it would help to lessen my guilt for a little while.
Making all of the delicate things kept my mind off everything else.
It gave me a purpose even I recognised was more healthy than maintaining a kid's bedroom.
I knew I could have sold what I made, but I liked it better this way.
Before anyone could step out and see me, I hurried back to my truck and drove away.
I was almost certain someone watched, but they never said a word.
Instead, respecting my privacy and need to remain anonymous.
Besides, who would believe them? Not anyone in my hometown.
No, they'd refuse the gift. That's why I brought them down here.
In Aurora fucking Hollow, they'd probably throw it all on a fire and burn it to ashes. It wouldn't help. Wouldn't make them feel better. It wouldn't change how they felt about me. They'd still hate my guts. After so long, I should be used to it. I shouldn't care anymore.
Sometimes I pretended I didn't. I provoked them, just to piss them off. I liked seeing them get angry.
It was better than being ignored.
"You're getting soft," I told myself as I headed out of town.
Maybe I was, because it didn't matter what I did.
Nothing dulled the guilt when I recalled the look of fear in her eyes before they stuffed her in the car and took her.
I should have been able to keep her safe.
I failed her and for that I'd never forgive myself.
I didn't deserve forgiveness from anyone else.
What would things be like if I'd kept her close to me?
If I'd sat beside her instead of raking leaves?
My dad would have yelled at me for leaving work undone, but then they couldn't have taken her.
I would have had a chance of fighting them off while she ran to her own father.
Or made things more difficult so they didn't take her.
Something. Anything. She'd still be around, living life the way she was supposed to.
And I wouldn't be so fucking lonely.