Chapter 17 The Lonely Old Lady
772words
"I'm not sure what to believe anymore." I shook my head. "Do you have any idea how weird this all sounds? You treat me like crap, then threaten Rake to leave me alone, and then Rake tells me—"
"I told you I was trying to help you."
"Help me?" I snorted. "What is this whole thing between you and Rake? And what rules was he talking about?"
"If I told you, it would defy all the efforts I've done to help you."
I rolled my eyes. I've been doing a lot of that lately, thanks to Kayn. "You make so much sense."
He folded his arms across his chest, not saying anything.
I signaled him to go with my hand. "I can take care of myself, thanks."
"If Rake is around here, so is his crowd," Kayn said. "After you."
"You're not going to tell me, are you?"
He shook his head. "No."
"Of course not." I turned, throwing my bag over my shoulder. I needed to know what was going on, especially when my life could be in danger—even when said threats might be nothing at all. I wasn't taking any chances.
I planned on finding out, but I knew I wouldn't get anything from this stubborn-headed oaf.
Our first stop was Billie's Books & Stationery, where I had to get Mom three notepads and a map. I helped myself to the discounted book basket, ending up with thirteen books.
Kayn hauled the pile toward the counter for me to pay, and for a moment I was grateful he was there because I'd have never been able to carry everything myself.
"At least you're useful for something," I commented as we headed toward the grocer.
He darted me a bitter look. "You could thank your lucky stars I'm here."
"Oh, get over yourself."
"I could leave these here," he lifted the books. "Then you could figure out how you'll be able to get them back to your pace."
"I could," I shrugged. "I could also tell that to your mom. I'm sure she would be so happy about her boy being such a gentleman."
He scowled, glancing away.
I bit down onto my bottom lip to stop myself from laughing. "For real, why do you hate me?"
He paused, looking at me like I'd taken him off guard. "I told you I don't hate you."
"You have an odd way of showing it." I folded my arms, turning toward him. "What is it you're not telling me?"
"Carly…" he sighed, lowering the bags onto the pavement. The sun peeked out from behind the clouds, the rays forming a golden halo of light around Kayn. In this lighting, he seemed angelic.
I hated the fact that something so beautiful could be so...Ugh!
I shifted my gaze toward an elderly lady sitting on a bench outside the bookstore, knitting on a colorful scarf. Her fingers moved gracefully to a speed I couldn't fathom.
I've tried knitting before and found the feat impossible. I admired anyone who could do it, let alone, that fast.
"It's better if you hate me," he finally answered.
My eyes swiveled toward him. "Why would you want that?"
"I already told you." He glanced at the elderly lady, sighing. "That's Martha. You'll always find her sitting there. Sometimes, she sleeps there too."
"Isn't that dangerous?"
"She's safe here. She lives on a farm not far away."
"Then why is she sleeping here?" I asked.
"Her husband was a local fisherman. He disappeared over twenty years ago. Everyone assumes a boating accident," Kayn explained. "Anyway, before he left, he told her that when he comes back, he'll meet her on the bench and they can go out for ice cream. She'd been staying there ever since, waiting to have that ice cream with him."
My hand raised to my mouth. "That is so sad. She must have loved him."
"Not loved, loves. She still believes he's coming back and every time she sees me, she talks about how she's looking forward to her favorite peppermint sundae."
I sighed, watching the lady knit with a blissful expression on her face. There was so much hope inside those grassy green eyes.
Each time someone walked past her, she would nod with a kind smile.
"We should go get that food, it's getting late," Kayn said, picking up the bags. "Actually, I could use an ice cream right about now."
