Uncharted (Unexpected Book 3) (25 page)

“I’m not trying to be unfriendly.” I open the door of my house, holding the bottle of red wine I was about to open. “But why are you here?”

AJ smirks at me, and I now understand why her brothers call her the evil princess. I appreciate her artful ways of taunting them, except for when she uses me for her plans. Like a couple of weeks ago, when she invited me to have breakfast at her house and introduced me to the entire family. A chance to make an impression, because her fathers should learn to love me. Jacob wasn’t happy one bit. He left the place without saying goodbye to his parents—or to me.

“Maeve called me.” She smiles and hands me a chocolate cake. I pass the bottle of wine to Mae so I can carry the delicious pastry that reads
Happy Birthday Ana/Pria
. I walk to the dining table and set it there. “She mentioned that today is your birthday and requested I bring a cake. My assistant forgot to remind me about the event. Oh, wait. I don’t have an assistant. It’s your obligation to share that kind of information with me. We’re friends. I should know things like your birthday, or that you slept with my brother.”

“I assumed you knew the latter.” I press the heels of my hands against my eyes. To think that I believed she wouldn’t bring it up—at all. “Why rehash the past?” The question sounds everything but breezy.

Jacob’s right. She saves information for when it’s useful. AJ waited too long and I had gotten too comfortable thinking it wouldn’t come up. When I slide my hands down, I find her parents entering my house, each holding trays.

“Happy birthday, Ana.” Gabe walks past me toward the dining table.

“Feliz cumpleaños, señorita Ana,” Chris says, and I’m guessing it’s “happy birthday” in another language. “I prepared for you the food of your ancestors.”

“Dad, don’t start,” AJ protests. “She said there’s some heritage, but she’s not Mexican.”

I move to the side and let them in. That’s when I notice Mason, Matthew, and Jacob following behind them, carrying wrapped boxes and bags. My sister is going to pay for this. We agreed about today, that we wouldn’t make a big deal out of it. Neither one of us can spend money on presents or celebrations of any kind.

“Dad,” is the first word that I form. I haven’t seen so many related people together since Mom’s funeral. “He’s not going to take well to all the visitors, Maeve.”

“Don’t kill me, but I increased the dose on his sleeping pills for tonight.” She shoots me one of her evil grins and heads to introduce herself to everyone. “Happy birthday, Pria.”

I put my hands on my hips and shake my head.
She did what?
There are days when I don’t know why I bother with my sister. Maeve does whatever Maeve wants. Telling her to do otherwise is a complete waste of time.

“You’re too tight. Relax, it’s your birthday,” Jacob murmurs close to my ear. “Maybe we should make a deal; while you search for the lost boy, I’ll help you free yourself from those chains.”

I roll my eyes and walk to the dining room where everyone is setting up a table with food, presents, and the cake. Mae’s holding the bottle of wine as if it was a newborn child.

“Hey, can you tell your sister not to open the wine until we leave?” Jacob’s lips caress my ears. “Chris is an alcoholic and we try not to drink in front of him during small family gatherings.”

“I will, but she won’t open it until everyone is gone anyway. I’m not kidding about her not sharing her alcohol or sweets.”

As I look around the house, I realize we’ve never had this many visitors before. Mom’s strict rules about who could come inside and the germs they might bring with them made it close to impossible for us to invite anyone over. It wasn’t until a year after I had been dating Robbie when Mom let him come inside the house.

“Best birthday ever, little sister.” Mae hugs me. This might not be the best, but it’s certainly different. During our birthday, Mom would bake a cake and sing “Happy Birthday” to us, but no one else would come celebrate with us. “We should do the same for my birthday.”

That white, bright smile of hers is the only gift I need today. My sister alive and healthy. I mirror her smile and give her a hug.

“Are we okay?” Matthew asks while I sort the presents they brought for me and fold the wrapping paper and the bags. “Because you’re trying to avoid me.”

Jacob and Ainsley are washing the dishes, Chris and Mason are outside fixing the steps from the entrance, and Gabe is helping Mae change some light bulbs.

“Okay?” I have no idea what he’s referring to, but I am happy not to pay him too much attention. “Yeah, whatever.”

“That day, when you came to our concert…he was in a pretty fucked up place.” The unrequited explanation begins. “I did what was best for him—for you.”

“Look, I shouldn’t have gone that day—or ever.” I hate to remember that night. Usually it brings bad dreams and my mood sours for a few days. “Back then I had this stupid crush and let it take me to places I shouldn’t have gone. Physically and mentally.”

His eyes fill with concern, and his entire face is a cluster of emotions. “Sorry for what happened. I hate myself for that.”

“You know?” He nods. I lift both shoulders and shrug the entire thing away. “Nothing happened, really, someone heard me and…”

He shakes his head, closing his eyes briefly.

“I’m sorry,” Matthew repeats, taking out his phone and handing it to me after tapping it. It has my name. “I should’ve made sure you were safe—a rookie mistake. I’m heading back to school. Program your phone number in mine, please. Don’t hesitate to call me if you need me, which… You’re going to need me. Please, don’t give up on him.”

AJ and Matthew make my job sound like some voodoo exorcism task, instead of a simple PR-slash-image control issue, which reminds me that I have to dig deeper into Chris Decker’s history. That alcoholic thing is new to me. The sex with every available woman is common knowledge, but the rest is so ’80s.

“Are we good?” I nod while handing him his phone after calling myself. “You’re a terrible liar, and what’s with this frigid girl I see here? What happened to my fun pal Pria?”

“She’s an adult now,” I hear from behind me. “Don’t let her fool you, bro.” Jacob walks to where we stand. “Pria’s in there, just too chicken to come out and play.”

“It’s time to pack and leave.” AJ comes out of the kitchen, her dad right behind, trying to balance the clean trays and serving utensils they brought. “MJ, gather the troops.”

“Thank you.” I hug her again and look at all my presents. “For everything.”

“That’s what friends are for,” she repeats as she hugs me, almost tipping me by the strength of her launch. “I love you, babe, and you’re stuck with this crazy family.”

AJ isn’t my only friend; I have others. But I’ve never had close friends like her before. No one keeps barging into my life and making sure I don’t forget that we’re meant to remain in each other’s lives like AJ does. As the Colthurst-Decker clan leaves, I hug each one of them. Mae is next to me, enjoying one of the things we were always denied; hugs and family love.

“This wasn’t nice, Maeve Philomena.” I shut the door and head back to my room to change out of the dress I wore earlier for church and into a comfortable pair of jeans, a T-shirt, and a pair of sneakers. “But thank you, big sis. I love you and I loved my first real party.”

Jace: Your house or mine?

Twinkle: Not tonight. I’m turning off my phone. Behave.

“Where are you going?” Mae asks as I tie my shoes.

“The sky is clear. I’m heading to visit Mom and then stargazing.” I haven’t been to the cemetery since Christmas. Mae isn’t crazy about going with me, and always talks me out of heading there. As it’s my birthday, I doubt she’ll say anything this time. “See you later.”

“Fine, but tomorrow it is my turn to leave the house—can we hire someone for the night?”

“Where will you be going, Mae?” She doesn’t answer. When this began, she told me she wasn’t ready to discuss that matter with me and I respect her for it. “I’ll be back by midnight, then you can call your secret lover.”

“Alcohol and a cemetery. Not a great PR combo. Your ways to try my patience are crafty.” Pria stares at my hands and I’m caught red handed. “Why are you here?”

This is worse than her cock blocking. I can still hear her voice,
“Jacob Christian.”
Her threatening tone scared the crap out of me.
“Put your dick back in your pants and walk out of this bathroom, and I won’t consider castration as my next resource.”

When she said no sex, she meant no sex. She uses stupid Twitter and all those social media engines to track me down. I look around, wondering if anyone saw me walking over and wondering how long I have to escape.

“Me?” I dodge the question. “It’s late. Why are you here?”

“I came to visit Mom before I head to Solstice Park.” A frown slips under her composure. “What about you?” I shake my head. She gives me a sad smile with some pity thrown into it. “Fair enough. Don’t drink too much, and call if you need a ride.”

Pria leaves me standing there, not saying anything else. There’s nothing else to discuss apparently. She came to some conclusion. Now I want to know, what kind of conclusion and why is it that she’s not asking me anything at all?

“Why are you going to Solstice Park?” I run after her.

That was my place many years ago, back when I looked up at the sky.

“I do that every year, during my birthday.” She stops in her tracks to give me that quick explanation as if I should disregard it and let her be, but I hold her elbow. “Well, I usually go there when the sky is clear and I have free time. See you tomorrow at work, Jacob.”

Pria jumps in her car and leaves.

“Where to now?” Pria glowed after our sailing along Lake Washington. I used our parents’ boat without permission. If they hear about it, I’m going to have to soften them with my cheesy weekend or face their wrath. “Sorry, it’s as if I had some scarf covering my eyes and you took it off. Everything we experience is perfect and I want more.”

So far I’ve taken her hiking, then to eat sushi—her new favorite food—and then we head to Lake Washington where we walk for a couple of hours before I convince her that sailing is safe. If I can keep her around, I’ll teach her how to snowboard during the winter.

“Dinner and then whatever you want to do,” I offered.

“Stargazing again.” She kissed my chin. “That’s my favorite activity. It will always remind me of you.”

“You’re my favorite activity.” I crushed my lips onto hers and took a dive into her soul.

We dined and headed to another one of my favorite spots, Solstice Park. Because making her smile had become another favorite activity of mine.

“Happy Birthday.” I lower myself to the ground.

A park won over the cemetery. I left my booze on the ground. Some lucky bastard might enjoy a nice bottle of vodka tonight.

“Thank you. Your behavior is a five-thousand-piece 3D puzzle, Jacob.” She continues watching the stars through a pair of binoculars. “I could ask the right people and find some answers, but I assume you wouldn’t appreciate the gesture.”

She lowers her arms and her gaze moves to me.

“When did you stop looking at the stars?” Her question hits me and I’m lost for a second inside those eyes of hers. “Before or after she died?”

Chills run through my body. I squeeze my eyes for a few shallow breaths.

“See, I’m afraid of Mae dying, but at the same time, for years I’ve read books on how to handle loss.” My eyes open and I spot the same sad smile on her lips she gave me at the cemetery. “There are groups I belong to because of that fear I’ve lived with for so many years. I’ve seen others like you, suffering through life because they lost someone they loved and can’t seem to find their footing. When Mom died, I helped Mae with the pain. Knowing how to move on doesn’t mean I don’t hurt, only that I learned to live. I go by the saying, ‘live as if they’re living with you, the way you’d like them to see you from heaven and how you want them to remember you.’”

I stare at my boots and remain silent. No one ever discusses any of this kind of shit with me anymore. They know I’ll snap and head out to have mindless sex with some unknown woman, drink until I forget my name, or walk the streets of downtown until the early hours of the morning. Some days, I wander down the street where my boy still lives. Watching the life that was snatched away from me is another hobby of mine that I’m forbidden from practicing more often than not. Fucking restraining orders.

“You can’t live six feet under for the rest of your life while making poor choices.” I can hear the condescending tone to her voice. “You hurt your loved ones because of that. I bet Dad would be doing the same as you if he wasn’t sick.”

“How did he react after your mom died?”

“Cried, broke a few frames. We gave him his medicine and he forgot the next day.” She clears a few tears that escaped. “We lie to him every day when he asks about her. Now we pretend Mae is her.”

Her attention then focuses on me. “What was her name?”

My heartbeat picks up an erratic rhythm. I’m not only talking to Pria, but I’m also discussing Norah with her. This is the ultimate betrayal to her memory.

“Norah.” I touch my earring, thinking about the one she wore.

“Was she blonde?” I shrug. “Blue eyes, green eyes? I imagine her svelte with a tiny nose and tall. Definitely green eyes.”

“I don’t know.” I lift my gaze and she stares at me with a dazed expression. My brain fails on how to explain the most stupid part about my love life. “Since the first time I met her, she wore violet hair and matching eyes. She changed her look all the time, just depended on her mood. She even sported yellow hair once, if you can believe it.”

“She sounds fun. The perfect girl for you.” There’s no bitterness or anger in her words. “Any tattoos?”

I shake my head, because I have no idea. I never saw Norah Naked.

“You never found out her real hair color?” Pria doesn’t believe me, and I understand why, but it’s true. At the hospital, she wore another set of colored contact lenses and she wore a scarf. “Eyebrows?”

“She matched them to her hair color, and she wore fake eyelashes.” Pria snickers and bites her upper lip while looking at my crotch. “I’m not talking about my sex life. Maybe I never saw her because she didn’t like the lights on?”

I get out of a ridiculous question with another one. There’s no sex life to discuss, or any detail about Norah for that matter. She’s off limits.

“Dude, even boring Robbie and I had sex in the daylight.” She laughs and shakes her head. “You, my friend, were in a hazy cloud of supreme love. How many years were the two of you together?”

“Months.” Pria touches my hand and squeezes it. “It was so fast. I never saw it coming until it hit me, and by then it was too late.”

“Yes, those are the worst. The unexpected.” She shakes her head. “You never get closure or a goodbye. With Mom, we had two months to prepare ourselves.”

This conversation is souring my mood, bringing up memories I don’t want to share.

“Grown-up Pria isn’t what I’d imagined.” I switch the conversation. “There’s this hint of an old soul inside you that gives the wrong impression.”

Pria ignores me and continues stargazing, her eyes reflecting what they see. It’s the first time in years I see some light coming from the sky, and my chest loosens some of that tension it has carried for so long.

“Before I leave, you’ll be looking back at the sky.”

“Why? Where are you going?” I’m curious about her leaving, or maybe I’m panicked. “When are you leaving?”

“In a few months, or years. I am not sure when it’ll happen. When Dad dies, Mae and I are selling the house,” she explains. “We won’t get any money out of the sale, just our freedom. She plans on having a normal life for as long as she can; not trying to commit suicide, but no longer hiding from life itself. I’m heading on a quest to find myself, dance under the warm rain of some tropical country. I’ll enjoy the ocean, sunny days, and delight in the white sands in the Caribbean. Watch the clouds from up above while a plane takes me away. Find my dreams. Those dreams I was never allowed to have because I had to worry about making Mom happy and keeping Mae healthy.”

“The cookie-cutter package?”

“You’re the one that wanted a wife and children—dogs.” She throws her head back laughing. “I bet you don’t use that pick-up line anymore.”

“Never, you were the only one—my first.”

Her laugh stops and her eyes look expectant. For a few long breaths she remains quiet.

“Was I?” I nod, understanding what she’s actually asking. We had been each other’s firsts. “Why didn’t you call?”

“I lost your phone number.” I give her the light version. How that stupid, messy kid lost her phone number and had no idea how to reach her. About her name, the idea of knocking down doors all over Redmond. She laughs even harder. “The next school year, I searched for you everywhere. Then I saw you holding hands with a guy at a coffee shop.”

“Logan.” She smiles. “Terrible kisser. Why didn’t you talk to me and save me from that date? Mae and you are to blame for that day.”

I point at myself, and she nods, grinning from ear to ear as if she’s recounting the best days of her life.

“This cheesy song began to play on the radio.” She grabs her phone and starts tapping on it. “Back then I was this crazy obsessed teenager. Don’t judge me. I downloaded and played it multiple times, dissecting it. Then I played it to my sister and she said, ‘Move on, you idiot, that’s not you. Wait until you’re old and can brag about bagging a rock star.’ Mae was the smartest person I knew back then, so I followed her advice and went out with Logan. After him, a lot of things happened before I decided to take a chance and date Robbie.”

She scrolls through her phone. “Here it is.”

The piano starts just as I remember; the guitar takes over, and my voice comes up next. Neither one of us speak. Pria watches the stars while swaying her head to the beat of the song. This isn’t the radio version. The ending doesn’t promise Twinkle that someday we’ll meet again.

“As long as the stars shine, as long as there’s a heartbeat in me, as long as you’re out there, nothing will change what we shared.”

“I take it you’re a fan.” I don’t confirm or deny the origin of that song.

However, it is hers, like so many others. Like every song I wrote from the moment I met her until I couldn’t write anymore. Closing my eyes, I can hear a few new notes fighting to come out from the darkness, but I push them away.

“Yeah, a big fan. Which brings me to my next big question… Why did you stop writing?”

My eyes snap open. I scratch my jaw. I want to be furious at her, at life, at the world for everything that’s happened. I want to be upset that she knows more than I want anyone to know and that I have no idea how or why she does.

“First you were playing very stupid lyrics along with those romantic tunes.” She brings up my own music career. “There were so many of them—cheesy and romantic. Next you’re raging and yelling at some snobbish girl to take that stick out of her ass—which I hope wasn’t me. Along with the stupid, nonsense lyrics that I adore—MJ’s. Finally, nothing that your band played was yours. Now you’re retired.”