“Right, so when he Googled you, he probably saw the news about the unauthorized movie, then the upcoming television interview with that dickwad who kidnapped you.” Brenna shakes her head. “Maybe he thinks he’ll become famous because he hangs out with you or something stupid like that.”
I almost want to laugh, but I hold it in when I see how serious my sister is being. She’s defending me. Worried about me. How can I fault her for that? “I doubt it has anything to do with that. Not like I have much money or anything.”
“You own your own house,” Brenna points out. “Not many women in their early twenties can say that.”
The house was purchased with money I inherited when our father died, so I’ve lived there only six months. Brenna is holding on to her share until she finds the perfect house for her and Mike to move into once they get married.
“He’s not after any sort of fame or fortune, Brenna. You’re being ridiculous.”
“Am I, Katherine? Do you really know much about this guy? You haven’t been seeing him for very long.” I know she’s being protective, but I’m tired of it. Tired of everyone trying to lock me in a cage and never let me live.
“I’m a big girl, Bren. If I want to see this guy, meet with him, then I will. Not even you can stop me. I have to live my life, not walk around in constant fear all the time,” I say, letting all my anger and frustration show.
Brenna gapes at me, like she can’t believe I just let loose like that. “I just want to make sure you’re safe. I don’t—I don’t trust this guy.”
I roll my eyes. “You won’t trust any guy that comes into my life.”
“That’s not true,” she starts, but I send her a look and she shuts up. I wish we already had our dinner in front of us. Or even better, that we had finished dinner so I could leave. Going out with my sister tonight was a huge mistake.
We say nothing for a while, and the quiet slowly drives me crazy. I can’t take it anymore.
“What am I supposed to do? Huh? Pretend it never happened? Never tell a guy I’m interested in my last name and hope like crazy he doesn’t find out the truth? I have to be honest. Open. That doesn’t mean I need to dump everything on him during the first date, but if a man is really interested in me, he deserves to know the truth. I can’t hide forever.”
“You’ve been in hiding for years, ever since it happened!” She’s yelling and I glare at her, hating how loud she is. A few nearby diners glance at us, and my cheeks heat with embarrassment. She’s making a big deal out of nothing. “Then you meet a hot guy who finally gets your hormones going and you’re not acting normal. It’s like you don’t even care anymore about your safety, your privacy. None of it. You’re reckless and quite frankly, making some stupid moves. You won’t listen to me and you won’t listen to Mom either. We don’t know what’s going on with you and all we want to do is help.”
I don’t know what to say. Her words make me mad, but worse? They hurt. A lot. So much that I take my napkin from my lap and throw it on the table directly in front of me. “I didn’t realize your opinion of me is so low.” I stand and grab my purse from where it hangs on the back of my chair. “I’m leaving.”
“Oh, come on, Katherine,” I hear Brenna call, but I ignore her and hurry through the crowded restaurant, hoping no one is paying attention to me. My entire face is hot and I keep my head down as I exit the restaurant, exhaling loudly once I’m outside. The cool night air wraps around me, pulling me into its icy embrace, and a shiver passes over me as I tilt my head back and stare at the silvery moon above.
I’m tired of being scared. Of giving up before I should. Of never attempting something I want to do. That’s been my life since I was almost thirteen. Always giving up, or worse, never going after what I want. I remained in this fragile little protective shell, my head bent forward, my shoulders hunched, pretending I was invisible.
I try to come out of my shell and it still doesn’t seem to work. I don’t know what to do anymore. Don’t know how to act, how to feel.
How to live.
I reach for my wrist, sadness filling me when I realize yet again the bracelet isn’t there. It sits on my dresser, the broken charm lying next to it. I need to get that fixed. Or fix it myself. I bet I could if I just worked on it for a few minutes.
“Katherine.” I turn to find Brenna standing there, flushed and looking irritated. “They didn’t even serve our dinner yet.”
“I’m not hungry.” I sniff, turning my head so I don’t have to look at her. Thank goodness we met at the restaurant. I don’t think I could have handled being dependent on her to get a ride home, or having to give Brenna a ride back to her place. Talk about tense.
“You’re being ridiculous.” I send her a pointed look and she sighs. “I’m sorry. You know what I mean. Just . . . come back inside, K.”
“Why? So you can continue telling me how stupid I am?” I turn my back fully to her and cross my arms in front of my chest. I’m sick and tired of everyone voicing their opinions and basically insulting my life choices out of concern for my well-being. It’s a crock of shit.
The only one who treats me like I’m normal is Ethan. And half the time he ignores me, so I don’t know where I went wrong with him.
I curl my arms around myself and frown. Maybe this dating thing won’t work. Maybe this living-in-the-real-world thing won’t work either. Perhaps I’m better off living in that little protective shell, staying at home and never actually doing anything.
“We’ll talk about other stuff, okay? I’m sorry.” I hear Brenna’s heels click on the sidewalk and then her hand is on my shoulder, giving it a squeeze. This time I don’t flinch. Slowly I glance over my shoulder at her and offer a wan smile. My heart just isn’t in it.
“Let’s go inside,” I say wearily, giving in.
Like always.
I wait for her outside the front of the coffee shop, pacing as I try to keep warm. It’s a Friday afternoon, one that started out sunny and bright but became cloudy around noon, leaving the sky dark and gray.
Depressing.
It’s a quarter after three and she’s still not here. I text her but there’s no reply. I’ve been stood up. I told myself if she didn’t show, I’d have to let her go once and for all. So I need to stand by my promise and let her be.
No matter how much it kills me.
Another ten minutes pass by and I finally give up, pissed off as I storm away from the busy coffee place. All sorts of people have been walking in and out of the shop, smiling and happy as they clutch their paper to-go cups. I want to knock all of those cups out of their hands, I’m so angry. So bitter at their happiness when I have none. I fucked up. I royally fucked up, let myself get too close to Katie, and now that I know what I’m missing, now that I can’t have her . . .
I’ll never be the same again.
Frustration fueling me, I keep walking, my gaze straight ahead, my strides long. I’m heading toward the boardwalk amusement park, surprised when I see a few of the rides running, hear screams coming from the roller coaster as it goes roaring overhead. I thought the season was over.
I don’t stop walking until I reach the entrance. I spot the banner hanging above my head and I pause.
LAST WEEKEND OPEN!
They close for the winter, always reopening in the spring. This was their last hurrah before they shut down for the season and without thought I enter the park, almost like I can’t help myself.
The scent of fried food lingers in the air, sweet and pungent. A seagull squawks and swoops down, picking up a piece of discarded soft pretzel on the ground nearby and flapping its wings wildly as it flies away. As I watch it go, I see a balloon drift in the sky, its bright pink color vibrant against the slate-gray clouds. Hear the crash of the waves against the sand and know there probably aren’t any families out there sitting on the beach. There’s no point. It’s too damn cold.
Like my heart. It’s cold. Like ice. It’s been that way for years. It was my only defense against
my father when I was young. If I didn’t feel anything then he couldn’t hurt me, right? That’s what I told myself.
Sometimes it worked. Sometimes it didn’t.
Katie melted that ice within me twice. When she was young and I was a different person, and now. I wish she were here. I wish she were by my side, smiling and asking for a corn dog or maybe some cotton candy, a funnel cake. Something we could share. Maybe she’d tell me she wanted to ride the roller coaster or the merry-go-round. This place isn’t so bad. I have a lot of fond memories of coming here when I was a kid, despite my shitty dad and my shitty circumstances.
We could create new memories, Katie and I. Banish those old ones once and for all and remember only the good times here. Good times we create together.
But I guess it isn’t meant to be.
I stop at a concession stand to buy a soda and immediately regret it, wishing I’d picked up a coffee when I had the chance. It’s damn cold outside, the wind has started to pick up, and I walk around the park aimlessly, along with an assorted lot of other aimless people, all of them not seeming to fit in. Fit together. Where are the families, the kids? Most of the kids are in school. There are teenagers here, and they all remind me of myself, when I was their age. They look like trouble.
Like me.
I also see quite a few tired-looking mothers pushing strollers full of loud, bratty toddlers, looking for a distraction, and I feel for them.
I’m in need of a distraction, too—from Katie. From my fucked-up, confused feelings for her.
Heading toward the Sky Gliders line, I see that it’s short and I’m thankful. I’ll hop on a glider and it’ll take me across most of the park, dumping me off not too far from where I parked. Then I can get the hell out of here and head home, away from the memories of Katie.
Back to nothing but loneliness.
At first I don’t believe it when I hear my name being called. I feel like it’s all in my head, that I’m losing my mind, which I wouldn’t doubt. The shit I’ve been through over the years . . . I think people would understand if I went crazy. Hell, I should’ve gone crazy long ago.
But I hear my name again. And again. Until I finally turn around at about the fifth Ethan and my jaw drops open in shock when I see who’s standing there.
Katie.
She’s frozen, her eyes wide, her hand falling at her side, like she was trying to wave me down. We stare at each other and all the sounds, the scents, the people, everything seems to fade until it’s just me and her standing in this park. The both of us too scared to approach the other first.
I spot a garbage can nearby and dump the half-full soda inside, wiping my damp hands against my jeans as I start to walk toward her. She still doesn’t move. She looks scared and I ache to take away her fear. Offer her comfort. Tell her I’m sorry.
Tell her who I really am and hope like hell she can forgive me.
“Ethan,” she breathes when I’m finally close enough to hear her. “I found you.”
“What are you doing here?” I stop just in front of her, wanting so badly to reach out and grab her I have to curl my hands into fists to prevent them from doing so.
“I came to meet you just like you asked, and . . . chickened out at the last minute.” She drops her head so I can’t see her face anymore. “I don’t know what compelled me to come to the park.”
“I did the same thing.” When she lifts her head and her gaze meets mine, I continue. “You didn’t show and I was . . . mad. I started walking, wishing you were with me. Next thing I knew, I was here.”
Her lips part, her eyes full of sadness. “I don’t know what we’re doing anymore,” she whispers.
I step closer, grabbing hold of one of her hands. Her fingers are cold and I interlace them with mine, squeezing her tight. “I don’t either.”
She tilts her head back, her pretty, dark blue gaze meeting mine. Her eyes are full of pain and confusion and the tiniest flicker of hope. “You know what really happened to me, don’t you.”
“It doesn’t matter.” I shake my head. I don’t want to talk about the past. I want the here and now. I want to be with Katie. “Come home with me.”
Her eyes widen, I swear she’s about to jerk her hand out of my grip, but I tighten my hold on her, not wanting to let her go. If I had my way, I’d never let her go. The connection we share, the one we formed when we were just kids, it hasn’t gone away. If anything it’s become stronger and I’m sick of fighting it, sick of fighting my feelings for her.
“Please.” I bring our connected hands to my mouth and brush my lips across her knuckles. Her audible gasp tells me everything. That our chemistry, our attraction for each other, isn’t just one-sided. She feels it, too. She always has. It’s been there, ever since the first moment we laid eyes on each other so long ago. “Ride the Sky Glider with me and you can follow me home.”
“I-I don’t know.” The panicked look on her face nearly does me in. I’ve scared her and I hate that I made her feel this way. Her eyes are full of such fear and I’m not sure why. “This is the ride that the man who abducted me asked me to take him to. I don’t know if I can ride it.”
God, I’m such an idiot. How could I forget? Her pain is bringing me pain, making my heart feel like it wants to crack in two. Taking a deep breath, I grimace, hating myself. “I’m an asshole.”
The smile that curves her lips is faint. “No, you’re not.”
“Yes,” I say, my voice firm. “I am. I didn’t even think about this ride, how you’re able to deal with the memories when you’re here in this park. It can’t be easy. And I’ve been a total jerk to you and I’m sorry. I’m going through my own shit. It has nothing to do with you but unfortunately it’s affected you, and I hate that.” A half-truth. It has everything to do with her, but I can’t tell her that. Not now. Not yet.
But soon.
“I need to be stronger. I know it, but it’s so hard. I just—I need time. I think you do, too. Maybe we aren’t meant to be. Maybe this won’t work. I’m too new at this, too . . .” She closes her eyes and shakes her head once before she looks at me once more. Her words are about to give me a fucking heart attack and I try my best not to react. “I’m not equipped for this, Ethan. Not yet, at least. So you need to tell me if you’re in or not. I need to know.”
I don’t even hesitate. Leaning forward, I press my mouth to hers, whisper against her lips, “I’m in.”
And I mean it.
We head up the stairs that lead to the Sky Glider together, Ethan by my side. It’s surreal, how we found each other, how he just kissed me and told me he’s in. We’re holding hands and he escorts me to where they seat us, waiting for an empty glider cart to appear so we can back our butts up into it and the attendant can lock the bar across the front of us.
I push past the fear, shove the memories far, far away. Even laugh a little as the bar comes down and the teenage kid working the ride gives our car a push so we swing on the wire. The Sky Glider used to secretly terrify me when I was a kid, stuck in that car with what felt like too much room between the bar and the seat. Usually sitting with my mom, who would clutch the back of my shirt as if she were truly afraid I would slip out and fall to my death.
The Sky Glider skims across most of the park, a great shortcut to use when you want to get to another ride—or the other side of the park—fast. That had been Aaron William Monroe’s excuse. That he needed to get across the park quickly to meet his family. A lie, like everything else he said.
I refuse to think of him now. I don’t want to taint this memory of Ethan and me together.
Ethan slips his arm around my shoulders and pulls me close to his side as we glide quietly above the park. We pass a tall concession stand that sells ice cream, its rooftop littered with the flip-flops, hair accessories, and plastic bracelets kids win at the arcade. I lean forward a little and glance down, feel our cart sway the slightest bit, and immediately press myself back against Ethan.
“Scared?” he whispers c
lose to my ear, nuzzling the side of my face with his nose.
I shiver, but not from the wind. “No. Not when I have you to keep me safe.” I want him to always keep me safe. Help me feel secure.
I think Ethan could be the one to do that for me.
I feel him smile before he kisses my cheek, his mouth lingering, making me shiver again. I still can’t believe I’m here with him. I’d come to meet him at the coffee shop against my better judgment, hating the inner voice nagging at me, telling me to turn around and go home.
That voice sounded just like Brenna.
The moment I started walking toward the coffee shop, the inner voice got louder. More insistent. Like it was screaming at me to turn around and go. Just leave. So I did. And somehow ended up at the park, where I wandered around, looking for . . . something, anything to ease the dull ache inside of me, but unable to find it.
Until I spotted Ethan and the pain disappeared, replaced by a glimmer of hope.
I thought I was seeing things. I truly believed he was a figment of my imagination. But there’s no mistaking his dark hair, that beautiful masculine face, the glasses and the broad, capable shoulders. The way he moved through the waning crowd was so familiar to me, so dear, that I automatically shouted his name.
He didn’t hear me. I shouted again, and again, my voice louder with every call of his name until finally he turned around. The moment he spotted me, from the look in his dark eyes, the expression on his face, I knew.
There was no turning back. Not for us. Not today. And I don’t want to turn back. I want him. Every time I’m near him I feel greedy. Like I want to grab hold of him and tell the world that he’s mine. That he belongs to me.
I’ve never wanted anything before the way I want this. Never wanted someone as much as I want Ethan. It’s like I’m addicted and I can’t give him up. I don’t want to. I want to take what’s mine.
The wind whips over us, my hair flying in my face, and I reach up to push it out of the way. The guardian angel charm bracelet dangles from my wrist, the sleeve of my sweater falls down my arm to reveal it, and Ethan grabs hold of my wrist, his gaze jerking to mine.