Alex
October 13, 2017
I can’t seem to get my seat belt. “It’s not going in.”
“Here.”
Eli hops out of his truck and comes to my side. He opens the passenger door and extends the seat belt as far as it will go. Then, he leans barely an inch away from my heart. Quietly, I try to breathe, afraid he can hear my heart going crazy. I feel his vest against my thighs. Smell whatever damn cologne he wears that makes my thighs want to fall open.
Eli pulls up, his lips close to mine.
We don’t breathe.
We don’t move.
We just stare.
And all I want him to do is not kiss me.
Not kiss me because I promised I’d never date a man in uniform again. Never allow my heart to fall again.
It’s been hell, picking up the pieces, Eli, I want to say.
“Warden Young?”
Eli jumps and slams his head against the roof. “Yeah, Sam?”
Eli walks toward him. Sam has a question on his summons. They’re talking.
I’m struggling to breathe. My body is on fire. I close my eyes and rest my head against the headrest, taking big gulps of air. Did he send the postcards? Why? I decide I need to talk to him about the postcards, but timing is everything.
Maybe this isn’t a love story after all, Alex.
Eli hops back in the truck, biting his thumbnail.
“You shouldn’t bite your nails,” I say.
“Trimming.” He grins back at me.
I smirk.
He looks down at my left hand. “You took off your wedding ring?”
I look down to the white spot where my ring once was. “Yeah.”
“Did you find a reason to take it off?”
“Yeah.” I look back at him.
His face is serious, and his look is hooded. From concern, I think.
A nervous feeling starts in my stomach.
His phone rings, and he looks at the screen. He must have hit Ignore because it stops ringing. Selfishly, I want to ask who it was. But it’s not my business.
My phone vibrates. It’s my mom.
“Do you mind if I take this, Eli?”
“No, no, not at all.” He looks back down at his phone.
“Hey.” I smile.
“Hi, baby girl.” There’s no worry in her tone. Not since I’ve been here. It’s nice not to hear it.
“Everything all right?”
“Everything is fine. Dad and I just got back from a movie, and something told me to call you, so I did. Have you met anyone there yet?” I hear her whispering to my father in the background as she waits for my answer, but her whispers are too muffled to get anything.
Yes. But now’s not the time.
“A few.”
“How are the accommodations?”
“Fantastic.”
“Good. But everything is going good?”
“Yep.” I quickly steal a glance at Eli, who’s scrolling through his computer that’s attached to the dashboard.
He looks at me.
I look away, attempting not to smile.
“Your answers are short, Alex. You’re sure everything’s okay?”
“Yep.” I won’t tell her that I’m with Eli right now and that there are butterflies erupting in my stomach. Not going to breathe a word in front of Eli.
“Okay, well, I love you.”
“Yep. Me, too. Call you tonight.” I hit End.
Eli laughs silently to himself and shakes his head, staring down at a text. “Hey, so Aaron just texted me and said Boston is playing Golden State tonight. Asked if we wanted to meet up at Angler’s. You in? Maybe make a small wager. I mean, if you’re willing to back your team?” I hear the sarcasm in his tone. He’s trying to rile me up.
“I’m always willing to back my team. I believe we beat you by twenty-three points last time.”
My heart screams, Yes, I’ll go, but my head says, No.
I need to type up my research notes. I’ll watch the game back at the house.
Who am I kidding? Research notes?
I spend the next ten seconds convincing myself why I shouldn’t go.
“Yeah, I’ll go.”
There’s silence again but not for long. “Tell me about yourself, Alex.”
Eli’s phone rings again. He drops his head and mimes the words, I’m sorry. “Young.” He’s listening to the other end of the line, most likely dispatch. “Yeah. Yeah. How many?”
While he’s talking, I decide to answer his question in writing.
Dear Eli,
I know what I used to be like. These past three years haven’t been easy. But I feel like, since I’ve been in Granite Harbor, I’ve been able to find bits and pieces of the old me.
You asked what I’m like, so here goes.
I love my family. As much as they have been a pain in the ass since Kyle died—worrying about me, asking questions, stopping by unannounced, leaving home-cooked meals in my fridge, making me get out of bed, pushing me to come here, all the way across the country when I didn’t want to leave my house—you get the point—they saved me.
I like clean sheets on Sundays.
I like the color pink.
I have an unhealthy collection of office supplies.
I miss Larry terribly. He’s twenty-two pounds of grumpy, but he’s always by my side.
I have a best friend named Bryce, who lives in Southern California.
I love coffee.
I’m terrified of snakes and fire.
I love the word albeit, only because I like the way the word sounds and looks, which is fancy and sophisticated—two things I am not. Nor do I care to be.
I keep a journal.
I love the rain. It rains in Belle’s Hollow seventy percent of the time.
I collect paperweights and postcards from places I travel to.
I hate attention. I loathe being in the spotlight.
My middle name is Laughlin.
My dad calls me Gidget.
While I love to write, my second dream job would be to open up a no-kill animal shelter.
When I die, I want to be cremated. Is that too much, too soon? Sorry. Just cross this off the list if it creeps you out. ;)
Christmas is my favorite holiday. I love the feel. The cold in the air. The spirit. There’s something to Christmas that I haven’t been able to feel in three years, but I feel like it’s coming back.
Recently, I’ve decided that I will no longer celebrate my birthday. I’ll stay at thirty-two forever.
I haven’t written a word since Kyle died.
My publishing house dropped me because I couldn’t produce any work. Trust me, I don’t say this for pity. I say this because this is where I’m at in my life.
I’ve lost faith in my abilities as a writer. As a storyteller.
I just haven’t felt like my heart has an emotional connection to my stories. But being here, in Granite Harbor, has changed some of that.
My top two favorite television series of all time are Friday Night Lights and This Is Us.
My favorite book—many. And for different reasons.
I find solace through words.
Alex
P.S. I really like the lines around your mouth when you smile. You should smile more often.
I rip the note out of my notebook, fold it, and hand it to Eli.
“What’s this?”
“Read it later. When I’m not around.” I stare out the window, questioning if it was the right decision to give him this part of me.
Eli shoves the letter in the pocket just above his heart. “Listen, I’m taking you back to the house. My house. I’m leaving Rookie with you. We got a call that I don’t want you on.”
“Why not?”
“Remember at the beginning of this, I said that, if we get a call that puts your life in jeopardy, I’ll take you home?” He doesn’t wait for an answer. “Well, this is one.”
I don’t dare push my luck because that was the agreement we made.
We pull up to his house.
“Do you have Wi-Fi?” I ask, thinking of what work I can get done while I wait for Eli to come back.
“I do. And a printer, if you need it.” Eli hops out of the truck and comes to my side to help me out.
Kyle always did that.
Rookie is surveying the property with sniffs and snorts.
“This is a beautiful piece of property, Eli.” It was harder to see it when we came by earlier.
He looks around. “Yeah. It’s home.”
The two-story log home has a wraparound porch with windows that allow for a three-hundred-sixty degree view from the inside. Dark gray rocks line the bottom part of the home, impeccably placed. We walk toward the house.
“You know, I’d be perfectly fine at my place. It’s daylight. What could go wrong?”
Eli sighs. “Look, Alex, if it was any other time, I’d say it would be fine. It’s Granite Harbor. But I just got a call from the State Police. That’s never happened in my eleven years as a game warden.”
Rookie is at the door, waiting for us, as we make our way up the steps of the porch.
“Can you talk about it?”
He bites his lower lip.
“Did you know that you bite your lip when you’re nervous or deep in thought? I can’t tell which yet,” I observe.
He tries to hide a slight smile, but he turns serious. “The scene involves a mutilated bear and a woman’s breast.”
“Oh.”
“This psychopath is upping his game. His tactics are getting increasingly worse. I know it’s connected to the other mutilations we found. But we’ve never found human remains.” Eli looks at me. His eyes burrow into mine. “I want you as far away from this scene as possible. In fact, I’m not sure if I want you job shadowing me anymore.”
“Eli—”
“Alex, I don’t know if he’s watching us. What he’s doing. The last thing I want is for him to see a beautiful woman he can target.”
Aside from the crazy of the situation, my insides bloom into roses. My stomach flips. And a smile pulls at the left side of my mouth. “You think I’m beautiful?”
He laughs. “Seriously, Alex? Has there ever been a man, or woman for that matter, who hasn’t found you to be … you know …” He motions up and down with his hand, breaking eye contact, clearly embarrassed. “Like this? All, you know, just—” He stops.
I cross my arms, satisfied. Eli Young thinks I’m beautiful.
“Well, if they have, they’ve never said anything. Besides, I’ve always had Kyle, so there wasn’t any need for me to look elsewhere. Or to pay attention to, I guess.”
Eli stops and drops his head to the side. “You know that you tend to touch your neck when you talk about Kyle?”
“I do not.”
Eli opens the door and motions for me to go first. He smiles. “You do.”
I roll my eyes and walk through the front door.
“Listen, I can’t give you a tour right now, but you can show yourself around the house. My house is yours. If you and Rookie go outside—wait. In fact, don’t go outside.” He looks to Rookie, who’s on the floor by the unlit fireplace. He leans in, and I feel his lips barely graze my ear, his breath on my neck. “He likes you. He’ll keep you safe.” Eli stays there but not long enough.
His words radiate through my entire body. I can’t look him in the eye because mine are closed, and I attempt to push my vulnerability away by opening them without him knowing he has this effect on me. I take in his scent, his minty breath.
“Got it,” I choke out. I give him a thumbs-up. Alex, really?
“Not sure how long I’ll be. Hopefully, I’ll be back before six, so we can go down to Angler’s.”
“No problem.”
“I’ll text you,” Eli says. He turns and shuts the door behind him but not before locking the door and me inside.
I watch him out the window.
Rookie is not quite snoring; I’d say it’s loud breathing.
I look around the open space. Either Eli is an impeccable decorator or he had an interior designer come in. It’s like I’ve walked inside some sort of shabby/chic/country home. I run my hand along the dark logs of the home.
I make my way up the staircase. I notice nails where pictures used to be. There are three rooms upstairs. One is entirely empty while one is a guest bedroom, and the other is Eli’s bedroom. Where he sleeps. Where he’s been naked. Has he made love to other women in here? Pushed against her. Mouthed her breasts?
Alex, it’s been way too long since you’ve had sex.
My phone in my back pocket rings. It’s Bryce.
“Long time no talk, friend,” she says before I say hello.
“Hey.” I run my hand along the wall.
“Well? How the hell is the trip?”
It’s good. “Good.”
I carefully sit on Eli’s bed, running my hand along the contemporary quilt. Must have been an interior designer, I think to myself.
“Why are you echoing?”
“Well, I’m at a game warden’s house.” I wait for it because I know what I’ve just done.
“What the fuck? Shut up. Why?” Her tone is giddy. “Is that … is that sex I hear in your tone?”
“What? Shut up! How do you know if I have sex in my tone?”
“It’s low. It’s slow. And it’s on fire!” she squeals.
“Oh my God. Seriously. Be serious, Bryce.”
“Wait. Is he hot?”
I blush. I blush so hard, my face feels like it’s on fire. “I’m hanging up now.”
“No, wait. I’m kidding.”
“No, you aren’t.”
“You’re right; I’m not. But I’d better get all the details when you get back,” she sighs. “I called about something else.”
I wait.
“Tandum Publishing is interested in the game warden series. I pitched what you sent me to Eden Parnell at lunch the other day.”
The thought and pressure of a publishing house makes my mind grow loud with expectations.
Have the book done by this date.
You’ll need to change this.
Write ten thousand more words.
Take this out.
Add this.
Dance.
No, don’t dance.
Kill your darlings.
Here’s your money. Now, go write another one.
“What?” Bryce asks.
“What if I don’t go with a publishing house, B? What if I self-publish this series?”
There’s silence on the other end of the line.
“Alex, this is totally you. This is you coming back. I know you can make a killing with this deal. But you need to follow your heart. Besides, you don’t need any more money.”
“I’m not sure.”
“Well”—she sighs—“let me know. Write the books. Then, we will talk about the best route for you.”
“I love you. Thank you.”
“All right. Chat soon.”
“Wait. B?”
“Yeah?”
“What if I want to stay?”
“Stay where?”
“In Granite Harbor.”
“How long?”
“Like, forever.” Again, another long silence. “I feel like I can start over here. Nobody knows me. Where nobody knows my past. Or Kyle. Or what happened. What if this is where I’m supposed to be? Start over,” I sigh. “What if those postcards were meant for me? Like, really meant for me?”
I feel her smile through the phone when she speaks, “All right, who are you, and where have you put my best friend, Alexandra?”
I laugh.
“I will support whatever you do. Is it farther for me to travel? Yes. But do I care? No. Where you go, I’ll follow. I just want the sadness that you’ve had, the burden of grief that you’ve kept for the past three years, to become quiet.”
I smile. “I haven’t been a very good friend since Kyle died.”
“You did the best you could,” Bryce whispers. “The thing is, I know you would do the same exact thing for me. Be there for me.”
“I would.” I stand and walk across the room to an armoire and open the doors. Something inside me tells me not to do it, but I do anyway. “His name is Eli Young.”
“Don’t hold out. What does he look like?”
I open a tiny drawer made for jewelry and all things small. Cuff links. A necklace with a cross. Next to a … ring. A gold ring. A band. A wedding band? A man’s wedding band?
“He’s got two legs, two arms, two eyes, twelve fingers, and seven toes. Wait, I take that back. I haven’t seen his toes yet. I’ll get back to you on that one.”
Again, I hear Bryce’s smile through the phone. “You’re back.”
“I feel like I’ve hit a turning point. I can’t explain it.” I pick up the band and put it around my finger. It’s three sizes too big.
Don’t panic, Alex.
I’m more pissed off at myself for allowing my feelings to do this to me.
“Gotta run. I have a call coming in from Trudy, my mother. How wonderful.” Sarcasm seeps in.
“Okay, yeah. Talk soon.” I hit End.
A married man wouldn’t have sent you postcards.
I examine the ring.
That means I need to ask him and show him the postcards.
The only thing you both agreed upon was research. That’s it, Alex.