Truce or Dare (Sweet Fortuity Book 1) (14 page)

When I turned to Haley, she ripped hers in half, and before I could protest further, in quarters.

“Guys, what the hell? That’s not fair, I shared mine.”

“They say if you rip your stupid little fortune, maybe it will never happen.” Her mouth was in a grim line. What the heck was up with them?

Kate looked visibly upset. What the hell?

“Eva?” I asked her, wary. She was quiet, but she was blushing profusely.

Okay. Something was going on, and they weren’t telling me.

“Can I see?” I asked carefully. “Or is yours cursed too?”

Her eyes widened, and she brought the piece of paper to her chest. “I– You don’t need to see. It’s fine.”

Sierra looked furious. She crumpled the piece of paper and crushed it with the base of her nearly-empty glass.

I frowned, and sat back. Eva was rarely flustered, she seemed to always be so self-assured. Sierra wasn’t either. “Why are you guys acting weird?”

Eva looked around, as if searching for eavesdroppers, then leaned forward giving us a sign to do the same. “You open a fortune cookie, you expect some generic statement, or maybe some really good advice, right?”

I nodded, urging her to continue.

She put her elbows on the table, and rested her chin on both hands, her brows knit in concern. “This was… I don’t know what the heck it was. It was scary accurate.” She shivered from the memory.

“It was the same for you too?” Kate blurted out. They shared a look, eyes wide.

That was bizarre. “Wait, why do I get the generic statement?”

“But,” Haley explained, “It still applies! You need to be strong.”

“It could apply to everyone,” I replied, unconvinced.

I could tell it bothered them a lot, and it made me really curious.

When I asked them again later, they refused to reveal what the writing was.

* * *

I bumped Kate’s shoulder gently.

“How’re you feeling? Men can just be really slow on the uptake sometimes.”

“In short, men are assholes.” The resignation in her voice made my heart reach out to her.

"Amen," Sierra agreed. "The moment you find one that isn't, let me know. I want to try cloning one.”

I stifled a laugh. “You’re crazy.”

“Honey, you already knew that.”

It was strange. Even after the events of the past week, I felt oddly light. Like the burden of something heavy had been lifted.

“To friendship,” I announced.

“And to singledom,” Sierra said brightly.

We knocked our glasses in cheers.

"Just like old times," Kate said with a dimpled smile.

I couldn’t help but return it. “Just like old times."

* * *

As the night progressed we discovered with no small interest that Luke was there. He sat in a far corner, eating some fries.

He looked up, his eyes zeroing in on Sierra, and flashed her a a wicked grin that would’ve left it’s previous targets smitten. All that was missing was for him to crook his finger.

Sierra gritted her teeth. “He’s not supposed to be here. Do you see his face? He’s asking for me to wipe off that stupid, smug smile and replace it with my fist.”

We all stared. It was devastating when a dimple creased his cheek from a simple smile.

Wow.

Then we turned to Sierra. I already knew she was crazy, but why she was avoiding him was the big question.

“Why do you hate him?” Haley asked curiously. “He seems like a nice guy. A little bit smug, sure, but overall, he doesn’t seem too bad. Plus, he doesn't look half bad.”

Sierra grimaced. “I don’t hate him. Hate implies I care. I don’t. Subject change.” She turned to me. “Sherr, I heard you’re moving soon.”

Okay then. Luke wasn’t up for discussion.

“Yep. Next week,” I answered, beaming.

I was a little excited and scared. Definitely scared.

But thrilled.

This was something new and different, but I wasn’t going to do this alone anymore.

Still, I couldn’t help but wonder in the back of my mind, if Chase had found out about it yet.

Not long later, I could hear two people arguing, one close to screeching. One of their voices sounded familiar.

Shit.

Sierra was no longer in her seat, but pulling the hair of a petite woman, with eyes the same as Luke’s, who was crying, asking for her to stop. They seemed to have gathered enough attention.

Luke wasn’t around anywhere. He’d probably left.

We had to pull Sierra away, but she was like a wildcat.

“Take that back!” Sierra cried out.

“Sierra, stop,” Haley pleaded.

We were pulling her back on both sides. Then without warning, Sierra head-butted the woman, and then let go. They both stumbled backwards. And since we were right behind her, we all fell along with her.

Oh my God.

“Ow. Could we at least have gotten some warning?” I groaned, attempting to get up, and falling right back down.

I was going to kill her. This was downright mortifying. People looked shocked.

“Out!” Tory, Serendipitous' owner, roared. He was a huge guy with a buzz cut in his forties, and I’d seen him mad before, but I’d never been on the receiving end of his fury.

Great. The evening was proving to be an interesting experience.

Sierra unapologetically got up and brushed the dirt from her jeans, not even sparing the woman a glance.

As we left, I couldn’t help but glance back, and it didn’t escape my notice that there were no tears in the woman’s eyes.

* * *

“
I
can’t believe
we got kicked out,” I grumbled. “Who was that woman, anyway? And what did she say?”

“Her name is Clarisse Diaz, and she hates me,” Sierra declared.

She was fuming. I’ve never seen her like this.

“I got that,” I said, careful to not piss her off further. “What did she say?”

She was quiet for a while. “She confessed… She confessed that she took something from me.”

Bemused, Haley said, “Then get it back?”

“I can’t. She won’t give it back. Bitch.”

“What did she take from you?” I asked, unable to tamp down my curiosity.

Somber in a way that was uncharacteristically her, she said softly, “Something irreplaceable.”

T
he call came
out of the blue.

I had just gotten home, let my hair down, and put on my jammies.

I was in the middle of doing the character sheet for a secondary character on the next book when 'Happy' starting playing, and I jumped back in surprise.

You know that moment when there is complete silence, and a noise just pops out like it wanted to give you a heart attack? It was like that.

It turned out it was a two-punch, because when I answered, the familiar voice of the caller shocked the hell out of me.

"Sherry? This is Patrick."

It almost felt like it had been a lifetime ago since I last heard his voice.

He sounded uncomfortable. Considering the last time we spoke, he insulted me about the reason I came back, and told me in not so many words that I was cold-hearted, it was no surprise. It didn’t exactly endear me to him either.

“Hey Mr. Davis,” I said warily.

He sighed. “He doesn’t know I’m calling. I’m sorry about… You know what. It was difficult for him when you left. Then you come back. You’ve got to understand, I had no idea you were going to stay.

“Sherr, you know my son. You wouldn't have put up with him for years and not know this– it changed him.”

"You don't need to tell me this." I couldn’t keep the sadness out of my voice, but I was trying not to let the tears win.

“You can only hurt someone if they gave you the power to do it to them. You must know that he loves you.”

“Mr Davis,” I stopped him. “I appreciate it. I really do. But I need this to come from him.”

“I shouldn’t have said that stuff the other night. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. All those things that happened, it’s between me and him,” I said gently.

“I knew Gem, and you when you were little. She loved you. But I couldn’t see beyond the anger.”

“Mr. Davis–”

“I just had to tell you. He’s suffering, and he’s too damn stubborn that he wouldn’t say it. So, I’m saying it for him.”

He wasn’t going to let this go. He cared about Chase;, I could at least acknowledge it.

"Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind.”

* * *

T
wo things occurred
to me that night.

The first was that even saying what he did, I found that he still had a hold over me that I suspect I would never break free from.

And the second was that I realized when I fell deeper for him, in a way, he had taught me how to value myself. If anything, he’d taught me that.

When he looked at me with challenge in his eyes, it forced me to reconsider what I believed about myself.

What he felt, he didn’t hesitate to hide. I knew I wasn't supposed to, but I missed him.

* * *

I
was getting a headache
.

The problem was, I was getting a heartache too. The combination was deadly.

I thought this as I drove back to Chicago, to bring a few more things and finally get settled.

Winter was coming, and I wanted to feel a little more settled in. It was one thing to live there, and a whole different one to make it feel like it was mine.

I had the urge to create roots.

I'd like to believe that just that one incident hadn't made me waver in my decision to stay. I was only human; I wish I could've taken my decision back. But I made a choice, and in the grand scheme of things, nothing had really changed between us. Nothing had been resolved. We'd only managed to dig up the past, and managed to hurt ourselves more in the process.

My choice to stay wasn't conditional; it didn't hinge on the status of our relationship. It was a combination of many things; my love for my grandma, the companionship of my friends, the comfort and familiarity it provided, and the regret that I'd left all those for the temporary illusion of peace. That place was, and continued to be, home for me.

I believed I could find home wherever I set it up, and perhaps it was true, but I never found it here because if I was being honest to myself, my heart never really let it go.

I decided to go back to Chicago today to pick up some of my things that I wanted to bring with me, but it was also the perfect opportunity to escape, if only for a little bit.

* * *

I
t was so odd
how everything looked the same, and yet in going through what I have the past week, my perspective completely shifted. My own little apartment was my former blanket of comfort, a place I found peace in, and looking at it now I recognized it for what it was– a place to heal and hide.

After returning the keys, I stuffed everything in boxes and loaded them in the car. I nearly left, but I noticed it; two handprints on the window, as if someone had pressed their hands firmly on it. They were clearly fresh, because it was clear.

It was a little chilly this morning, the windows fogging up. I wanted to look back, to see the last of my place, and instead the last thing I saw was a little disturbing. I looked around, but there was no one around. The street was relatively quiet, but that was normal at this time in the morning.

I spotted a runner turning at the corner, wearing earphones and bobbing her head. Across the road was someone walking their dog. Surely, I’d have noticed if they passed?

My neighbors were a newly wedded couple, with a two-year-old kid, and an old couple who liked to sleep in.

Jerry, my younger married neighbor, came out with a yawn, carrying a mug of coffee. When he saw me, he waved then walked over.

“Hey Sherry.” He eyed my bags, his eyes somehow a little sad. “Aw man. You’re leaving? Gonna break Cory's heart.”

Cory was his younger brother. We got along well, and he asked me out once before, but I wasn’t read to start something, and I never felt any spark. Still, we remained good friends. I cracked a grin.

“I’ll still be in touch. It’s beautiful here. Just… my heart’s telling me to go back.”

“Could always tell you weren’t happy. But you better go visit the next time you come back. Mary will be pleased.”

I gave him a hug and wished them well, promising I’d be back to visit. I nearly asked if he’d seen anyone around, but seeing that he’d just woke up, he couldn’t really have known, and I didn’t want to make him worry.

Deciding it was time to go, I went inside and shut my door. I looked back, a little wistful. “Bye, little house. It was fun.”

And as I sped away, I looked at the faint outline of handprints from the distance.

* * *

I
tried
to shrug off the image in my head as I drove home.

The hair at the back of my neck rose at the thought of those handprints.

As I was walking to Abe’s with it still on my mind. I rubbed my hands along my arms. I went to the café after I dropped off my stuff at Gem’s to get my daily dose of coffee.

Wes, already there, waved when he saw me.

“Hey," he said.

“What’s up?”

He slid down on the seat next to me. “This is a really shitty position to be in. You’re both important to me. He’s pretty much looking like hell at the moment, and you’re not looking any better.” Frowning, he asked, “You been getting any sleep?”

I shrugged. “Some. Not a lot, but getting by. I… I don’t know if I can see him yet.”

Confusion was all over his face. “It’s always complicated when it comes to you two. What happened? It all went by really fast. One minute you both seemed like you’d solved things, then the next you’re both not on speaking terms.”

I didn’t know how to answer him. “We both have a lot of things to figure out still. He said things, then I said things, and it’s… It’s a mess.”

He stayed with me, and it was a comfort. “Do you still love him?” he asked me, his expression grave, and it came from left-field, it surprised me.

“I shouldn’t,” my voice cracked. Damn it. I was so tired.

He sighed, and then he pulled my plate away, forcing me to look up in protest. “You need to talk to him, Sherr. I told him the same. What you both have, it’s something special.”

Something wet touched my cheeks, and realizing what it was, I swiped it away quickly. “I don’t know what to say to him.”

“Make him understand.”

I clenched my fists on lap. Being away for years taught me the cold, hard reality. “We don’t always get what we want.”

“But you can try.”

Did he always have an answer for everything?

“I hear you got your stuff from your old home," he continued. "Should’ve asked us to come, we could’ve helped.”

“I didn’t have a lot of things I wanted to keep.”

A look of understanding crossed his face. “It was never home to you,” he stated, but it sounded more like a question.

“It was more of a place to stay so I could do work. But I cherished the independence and anonymity while I was there.”

Absently, he said, “A lot of people look at you, and they think you’ve set yourself up somewhere, having a grand time.”

“It’s easier to make up stories about things you don’t understand.”

He replied sympathetically, “Don’t be too harsh on them. I think a lot of the people who’ve lived here longer just start to live vicariously through the gossips and relationships that go around. When they don’t understand it, it confuses them.”

I felt the chill of the wind and heard the door shut. Abe sidled over and sat next to me on the vacant seat on my other side.

“So. I was reading some newspaper in the shop yesterday, minding my own business, when this guy comes in, grabs a few things, snaps at every customer who looks at him the wrong way. Doesn’t answer any questions that involves a lot of talking. Five seconds later, he apologizes,” he said, and paused, taking a sip. “You're the cause, huh?”

He only confused me. “Sorry, but cause of what?"

“What else, sweetheart? Don’t guess you argued with anyone recently that’s made you withdraw into yourself. He's worn a scowl recently, and his eyes are the same as yours, like you lost sleep and can’t find it.” He shook his head, like that amused him. "Man's crazy about you."

After that night the other day, I very much doubted that.

"That thing in the past, heard about it. But it's over now. This time you can say yes.”