Lingering Echoes (5 page)

A brown,
wooden bridge hovered over a blue surface, connecting two pieces of green land.

“Ah
...” the woman’s voice said. Her eyes gazed into mine with impossible understanding. My apprehension returned. Her low, raspy voice continued. “Your past returns, an emergence you must face! Do not shy away from it, for it will fight to consume you if not conquered.”

I felt
the silent tugging emanating from her presence, the same force from the night of the storytelling. But my obstinate nature was a force of its own, willing against her—a shield for my secrets tucked away in safety.

Her pull loosened and she spoke again, her voice hushed and urgent. “You
must
make that walk. Connect your past to your present.” Her voice was even lower, a whisper that passed through my entire being. She traced the bridge with that long, red nail, emphasizing her next words. “Stop. Running.”

Her fervent words shook me. I stared at her, unblinking, hardly breathing. The unwanted past crept into my thoughts, painful images relived in my memories. Shameful liquid filled my eyes, brimming full. I swallowed hard, shaking my head, slowly at first,
and then with real desperation. The tears slipped over my lids, tumbling down my warm cheeks. My body shook without control, quivering against Brooke’s hand that held my own.

I could see Brooke in my peripheral, despite the blur of tears. She looked back and forth between
Alina and me, confused. She glared at the woman.

“That’s enough!” Brooke stood up, yanking my arm and pulling me up with her. We bumped the table, sending an earthquake through the cards. We stormed out of the tent into the brilliant sunshine. We both shielded our eyes, grateful for the fresh air and natural light. Brooke marched us away, tromping across the dirt and brush. Lightheaded, I had no choice but to cling to her arm and follow.

“Wait!” Alina called, scurrying behind us. “Wait.”

We paused, half-t
urned around.

Brooke fumed.
“Can’t you see you’ve upset her with your silly games?”

I didn’t expect the protectiveness and anger that Brooke unleashed
. She zipped open her purse and chucked a wad of cash at the woman’s feet. “Here, take it! Is that what you want?”

Alina
ignored the money. She reached for me and I flinched. The tips of her cold fingers touched my cheek before she spoke one last time. “You cannot hide.” Her icy blue eyes bore into mine again, this time with a hint of sympathy amidst the intensity.

Brooke severed
Alina’s spellbinding gaze. She dragged me back towards the cabins, kicking the broken mirror to the side. Neither of us looked back, though we could feel Alina’s penetrating gaze in the back of our heads.

Towel, blanket, and novel in hand, I walked along the sandy shore, dis
tancing myself from the crowds. I spotted Brooke, Nick, and Aaron zipping along the lake on their Jet Skis. No doubt they were racing. I could imagine Brooke squealing while holding onto Aaron, all disturbing thoughts of the mysterious fortune teller left behind. I hoped to do the same—just without getting in the water.

Alone, I reached my usual
spot, not far from the curvy hillside where my favorite tree grew. Undressing to my swimsuit, I lathered myself in tanning lotion and flopped onto my blanket. I resumed my place in my novel, relishing in the warm sun on my back. My body relaxed under the heat, soothing my mind and body...

“Your back is burning,”
a deep voice informed me.

Startled
awake, I rolled onto my side, peering up at the tall figure above me. It only took a moment to recognize the tousled, black hair, thick shoulders, and broad torso, and those blue-gray eyes matching my gaze. I sat up at once, grabbing my towel and holding it against my chest.

“What do you think you’re doing?” I asked, unable to mask my surprise. “Do you make it a
habit to sneak up on everybody or just me in particular?”

“Do you make it a habit to be so defensive?
” he countered in a calm voice. “Just trying to help you out. Your back’s all red.”

I placed a hand over my shoulder, fingers pressing against the warm skin of my back. I scratched the surface with one nail. Sure enough, the
telltale mild sting warned of the first-degree burn that would present itself by the end of the day.

Fab
ulous. More pain.

“How lon
g have you been standing there?” I asked, aware of the little material covering my body. I pulled my knees up to my chest, hugging them against myself. Straining my neck to look back up at him, I added, “And do you mind sitting down? It hurts my neck to look up at you.”

Damien complied, sitting cross-legged in front of me.
He watched me with a prolonged silence that made me uneasy. “Not long,” he said, finally answering my question. He eyed my book. “What were you reading?”

I picked it up
, flipping through the pages with my thumb. “Jane Eyre.”

Damien made a face. “Well, I guess you can blame Charlotte Bronte for your sunburn. No wonder you fell asleep.”

“Jane Eyre is a timeless classic!” I shook my head in protest. “Sure, it’s not an easy read, which obviously explains your distaste, and it can be hard to get into...but how could anyone resist the romantic escapade between two unlikely lovers? It’s full of passion, forbidden love, and—”

“It’s no use,” Damien said, cu
tting me off with a raised hand. “You will never convince me.”

I shook my head in mock disappointment. “Well, refined taste in classic novels is not for everyone.” I smiled at him, appreciating the dimpled expression he offered in return.
“I assume you do something more exciting with your free time then?”

“I kill time driving around.
That’s how I found you, actually. I was just passing by and saw you lying there. Thought I’d make sure you didn’t fall out of another tree.”

I ig
nored his attempt at a joke. “Passing by? On what?”

Damien pointed about
twenty feet behind me to an expensive looking, black and silver dirt bike resting on its kickstand. A black helmet hung from the handlebars.

I
narrowed my eyes, the sight conjuring up a memory of that rainy day in the woods. My eyes widened with understanding. “It was you.”

I leaped to my feet, dubious and wary. “
You were the one chasing me on that bike in the rain.”

He
didn’t move. I took a step backwards, glancing over my shoulders at the sunbathers in the distance. I whipped my head back around to study Damien. “My friend saw you following us at the festival yesterday. And that means you were probably spying on me last night when I fell out of the tree.” I waited for his reaction. Damien remained calm, which only irritated me.

“I have my reasons,” he finally said.

I crossed my arms. “You better explain to me why you are stalking me before I call the cops. I highly doubt your ‘reasons’ will hold up in court.”

Damien
stood up, dusting off his shorts. “So you want a ride then?”

“What? Are you being serious right now
?” I glared at his arrogance, looking back and forth between him and the bike. Despite my efforts
not
to be impressed, I couldn’t help admiring its exterior. Its black sheathing on the silver body was sleek and shiny, and I could see the massive treads on the tires from here.

“Looks like a pricey toy,”
I managed to comment.

“It
’s a Honda CR 500.” He must have noted the blank look on my face because he didn’t elaborated. “It gets me around. And by the way, I wasn’t chasing you.”

Oh. So he
was
going to answer my questions. Unconvinced, I said, “Then what
were
you doing?”

“I
was out for an early drive. I didn’t expect it to rain so soon.” He paused, as though waiting to see if I was going to argue with his response. When I said nothing, he continued. “I saw you by the river and you seemed upset. I drove over simply to check on you, but you took off. I only followed you to make sure you were ok.”

“So at the festival when Brooke caught you watching us, you just happened to be browsing the
very same areas?” I raised an eyebrow.

“It’s not a big festival. People run into each other all the time.” Damien shrugged. “Maybe she was stalking
me
. Did you think of that?”

I let out a laugh, realizin
g that could very well be true. Not ready to admit I might have been wrong in my hasty accusations, I tried once more to defend my honor. “How did you know my name and where I lived?”

Damien’s mouth opened
, and a look I couldn’t quite decipher passed over his face. But in an instant, it was gone, his expression smooth and composed. “Everyone knows who you are.”

“What’s that supposed to me
a—?”

“Your family, I mean,” he corrected. “
All the locals know who you are. I was out by the lake when your dad was renting a boat the other day. The employees were saying how fortunate it is that James Collins is a dependable client and what a nice family he brings up every year.” He paused before mumbling, “I can only assume they were including
you
in that comment.”

I glowered
at him. “Hey, I
am
nice.” At least I used to be. The events of last summer seemed to be taking its toll on my usually friendly nature.

“Anyway,” Damien
continued, “I was curious and asked about your family.”

“
They’re not really my family,” I blurted out.

Damien appeared
surprised by my choice of words.

“What I mean is
, I live with my mom and twin sisters in Portland. I’m just out here vacationing with my dad. He married a year ago, so Clara is my stepmom and Nick...I just have to deal with him until I head to college in the fall.”

“How long’s your vacation?” Damien asked.

I shrugged. “A month or so. My dad’s an editor and a writer, so he’s hoping to gain some inspiration for the new piece he’s working on, or something like that. My sisters will be up here after their basketball camp finishes.”

Damien motioned towards the lake.
“Is your stepbrother the reason you’re not out there with them?”

Again, he seemed to know too much about my agenda
, but his question distracted me. “I just don’t go into the water much,” I mumbled, not seeing the trio on Jet Skis. I shielded my eyes with one hand.

“Kind of an odd place to vacation if you
don’t like being in the water.”

I fidgeted, sensing where his next questions might lead.
I never talked about Maddie and I wasn’t about to start with a stranger.

Too perceptive for
his own good, Damien asked, “So what happened?”

I narrowed my eyes, defenses rising on
ce again. “Nothing!”

He raised his eyeb
rows at me.

Turning
a heavy shade of pink at my swift response, I rubbed my temples with two hands while I gathered myself together.

Damien’s expression
blended between skepticism and curiosity. But instead of pursuing, he asked, “You have a headache?”

“Yes, actually, I do.” T
hat much I could answer without fibbing. “It’s been hurting since I hit my head last night. You should remember. You were there.”

Damien leaned his head to the side, catching sight of the large discoloration on my thigh fr
om where I hit the tree root. His eyebrows creased together as he examined me, following the length of my body.

I shied away when he reached towards my face
. His hand paused midair. But he persisted, touching his fingers against the side of my chin and softly turning my head, so he could see the long graze cutting across from cheekbone to jawline.

“You’re a little
banged up,” he observed, tracing the scratch with a delicate gesture. His face eased towards mine for a closer look. I trembled while his finger glided along my face. Damien’s hand hesitated by my mouth, his index finger resting on the corner of my lips.

I lock
ed eyes with his, sure that my heart was beating audibly through my chest.

Damien seemed to be weighing something in his mind, his expression solemn.
An almost-tangible silence expanded between us in the moments that he faltered. Then he pulled back his hand and looked away towards the lake.

I took a deep breath
, clearing my throat. Scooting backwards, I distanced myself from him.

“I think yo
ur friends are looking for you,” Damien said, breaking the awkwardness. He nodded in the direction of the cabins.

I twisted around and saw two familiar figures marching towards us, Brooke leading the
way, just a step ahead of Aaron. She gave a frantic wave with her slender arm, and then turned to Aaron, pointing at Damien and me. Noting her spirited conversation, I could only imagine the notions she was conjuring in that vivacious head of hers.

When I turned around, Damien was jumping onto his
dirt bike. I stood up and pulled my board shorts over my swimsuit. When I looked over at him again, he paused as we made eye contact for one long moment. Then, without another word, he kick-started the motor and sped away in the opposite direction, leaving a dusty trail in his wake.