Nocte (The Nocte Trilogy #1)(48)
Author: Courtney Cole

“It’s ok,” I say slowly.  “I’ll just catch up with you later.”  I turn to leave, but pause, turning half-way on the sidewalk.

“Hey, you never said who you were here in Astoria to visit,” I tell him slowly, watching his face for a reaction.  “You said you were visiting someone in the hospital, but you never said who.”

He doesn’t miss a beat.  He simply nods.  “I didn’t, did I?”

And he doesn’t offer it now.  

I wait, but there’s nothing.  He just steps back inside his house.

“I’ll talk to you later, Calla.”

And then he closes the door.

I’m absolutely stunned as I stare at the wood, frozen on the path.  

Everyone has secrets, Calla. That’s what he told me and I guess it’s truer than I realized. The question is, are his secrets important? Should I care about them?  Because I’ve got so much to worry about already.

But his contradictions confuse me. His want and his detachment confuse me.  His hot blood and cold attitude confuse me.  Over the past week, he’s anchored me amid all of this crazy.  Is it possible that he just doesn’t want to be that anchor anymore?

My chest feels numb with the thought, because somehow, I’ve come to depend on him already.  I depend on him to make me smile, to lift me out of this mire into a world where hope survives.

But he just closed a door in my face and I can’t help but wonder if it was a metaphor for something bigger.

I try and put it out of my mind as I wait for Finn, then drive him into Group.  All I can do right now is keep going through the motions, keep my head above water.

Dare doesn’t define me.

That’s going to have to become my new mantra.

I fall sleep with that thought in my head, with the very best of intensions. But I’m awakened at three a.m.

Piano music plays softly, filtering through the house.

Startled, I sit up in bed and look at the clock again.

Yes, it’s the middle of the night.

No, the piano shouldn’t be playing.

I pad down the stairs toward the chapel and with each step, the soft music gets a little louder.  When I hit the bottom step, the music stops.  Silence seems to echo loudly in my ears as I rush down the hall and round the corner into the room. 

The piano seat is empty.

Stunned, I walk numbly to the front, trailing my finger along the empty piano bench.

I know it was playing.  I know it’s what woke me. The lid to the keys is open, which is unusual. It’s usually closed when it’s not in use.

And then I smell it.

The barest hint of Dare’s cologne.

My heart in my throat, I look out the window, to see a lamp turned on in his cottage.

He’s still up.  He’d been here.

Somehow I know, without anyone having to tell me, that he still wants me as much as I want him, regardless of how cool he’d acted earlier.  I don’t know his reasons, and I don’t know his secrets.

But I know one thing as I collapse onto the seat of the piano.

Even though he tried, he couldn’t stay away.

31

TRIGENTA UNUS

Calla

In the morning, I want to go see Dare.  But at the same time, I don’t want to be desperate.  I don’t want to play games.

The memory of his piano music drifting through my house last night buoys me, though, keeps me from panicking.

He’s trying to do an honorable thing.  I feel it in my bones.  And just as much, I feel the connection to him, loud and strong, tugging and tugging me toward him.  I know he feels it too. And because of that, I can’t let myself worry.  

It’ll work out.  It has to.

So with a last glance over my shoulder, I walk away from his door, certain that I’ll see him sooner rather than later.

With the sun shining on my shoulders, I decide to take a walk.

I wind through the trails, working my way up toward the cliffs rather than down toward the sea.

When I get to the top, I’m surprised to find Finn sitting too close to the edge.

Startled, I stop, my pink chucks freezing in place.

Finn’s black ones dangle over the side and he kicks his feet casually, not looking one bit concerned that the edge could break away at any moment.

“Finn,” I say slowly, trying not to startle him, “Move away from the edge.”

He looks over his shoulder at me, unconcerned.  “Hey, Cal.  Did you know that nutmeg is incredibly deadly if it’s injected?”

This freezes me, too.

“You don’t know that firsthand, right?” I stare at him, examining his arms for injection marks.

He rolls his eyes.  “You know I hate nutmeg.”

I can’t breathe. “I also know you’re sitting too close to the edge.  Move back. Carefully.”

He doesn’t move, and I see tiny balls of clay rolling around him, dropping off the edge.  My heart pounds in my ears.

“Want to go to the lighthouse today?” he asks, like he didn’t even hear me.  He stares out over the water toward the beacon, watching the gulls fly around it.

“Yeah,” I tell him quickly. “Let’s go right now.”

With another shrug, Finn clumsily gets to his feet, one of his shoes breaking off a piece of the edge. It plunges over the side, but Finn doesn’t even notice. He just walks to me like sitting on a cliff is the most natural thing in the world, like he is completely oblivious to the danger.

I throw my arms around him and hug him tight.

“What is wrong with you?” I whisper into his neck, inhaling his sweaty skin. “Why would you do that?”

“Do what?” he asks innocently.  “I just wanted a good view.”

“You know it’s dangerous.”  I pull away and stare into his eyes.  “You know that.”

“And you know that I was far enough back to be safe.”

He tells me the same thing I told him the other day, only it’s not true in his case.

“You were on the edge,” I tell him shakily.  To that, he shrugs.

“I still am.”

He walks away down the trail, whistling a tune that sends goose-bumps down my spine. The song that Dare played on the piano last night.

He heard it.  He knew Dare was in the house and it upset him. That’s what this has to be about.

I skid down the trail to catch up.

“Are you upset because I’m close with Dare now? Because you have to know that you’re the most important thing to me, Finn.  You’ll always be the most important thing. No matter what.”