Cursed be the Wicked (13 page)

I’m curious. I’m also going to need another drink. My cup is empty though, so I deal as best I can.

“Like what?”

Dan acts like he didn’t hear my question. Instead of answering, he leans in a little and lowers his voice, excited.

“I have to know. Did ya kill him, Coop?”

“What?” I ask him. I try to comprehend the level of stupid he must be to ask someone that question.

“You can tell me.” He pauses. “I think the statute of limitations is over by now anyway.”

I’m tempted to deck him. I really want to deck him, actually. But I don’t know what kind of attention that might get Finn. Instead, I keep it simple.

“No, I didn’t,” I say flatly. “I’ll see you later,
Dan
.”

I hand him his cup back and mingle into the crowd to go find my tour guide.

She was right about this party. It’s far from a séance. It’s more like a social gathering of the younger crowd around town. It’s likely they just needed an excuse for a party but for all I know, there really is some circle of light going on somewhere in here.

I find a beer keg and make a beeline for the cup stack. I grab one and as I fill it up, I see her, Finn, roughly twenty feet away. She seems alone even though she’s standing with a crowd of people.

I fill another cup and grab some chips, then go to her. The sun is just about gone now, but what’s left shines a glow against her that demands my attention. She smiles at something someone has said to her and I smile along with her. The closer I get to her, the lighter my shoulders feel.

I walk up behind her and pause for a moment before coming into her view. Then I say the only thing that comes to mind.

“Hey.”

When she sees me, there’s a flash of happiness but then it’s gone.

“I should go,” she says.

“Finn, wait. Don’t go,” I beg her. “Sit with me.”

She debates it and I relax when, a moment later, she is still standing in front of me. I lead her to a couple of huge driftwood logs by the water that aren’t occupied. When we get there, I urge Finn to take a seat first and to my relief, she does.

I hand her a cup and she takes it, but the chips she decides to forego, setting them beside her in the sand. She takes a sip of drink and stares out at the dark waves. She twists her cup between her hands as she avoids looking at me.

It’s quiet between us and I’m not used to it. I’ve grown used to Finn’s snarky comments and quirky but interesting tidbits. Even though I grew up here, I still find it fascinating that she knows things I never did.

She’s drumming her fingers against the cup and I catch a glimpse of her tattoo. It’s the perfect neutral conversation piece but I remember what she told me about sharing personal information. She doesn’t know me but I want her to. I want her to know I’m not a jackass like Danny and his brother. I want to her to know Cooper Shaw, not Cole Stone.

Nerves are taking over. I don’t know how to start this conversation. The only thing I think of is in regards to something she brought up on Essex Street.

“I forgot to pay you today,” I blurt out, and Finn finally turns to me with disappointment in her eyes.

“Is that why you came tonight?” she asks and it’s in that moment, when she’s looking up at me, that I decide to be honest with myself as well as Finn.

“No.”

“Good,” she says. “Because I don’t want your money.”

She stares and waits for me to say something. Although there isn’t anything we’ve done together that I want to forget, I do want to start over on some level. So I put a hand out and attempt to reintroduce myself.

“Cooper Shaw.”

She takes my hand and when she does, my entire body sighs a breath of contentment. I take another swig of my alcohol and begin to explain my actions.

“I didn’t exactly leave Salem on the best of terms. I created Cole Stone so I could write and not be recognized as the son of a murderer.” I begin to babble. “Not that I’m hugely famous or anything but you know it only takes one obsessed fan to start digging into your past.” I take a breather when I realize I sound ridiculous. “I just thought it would be easier to keep up the charade here.” I trail off and check her reaction. She seems to be studying me awfully hard.

“It’s called a pen name.”

She’s still silent. I take that, mistakenly, to mean I need to explain a little further. So I do. Like an idiot.

“It’s for—”

“I know what it is, Mr. Shaw.”

I have to laugh. I don’t know if it’s the nerves or just that she’s so damn cute when she’s ticked off. “Of course you do.”

She waits patiently while I regroup.

“I never expected to interact with anyone on a personal level while I was here, Finn. I thought I’d be in and out of here before anyone I used to know knew and then I could get back to my life and forget about Salem again.”

“So, what happened?” she asks and I tell her plainly.

“You.”

She doesn’t look surprised to hear me say this, just happy to hear the word.

“You happened to me, too, you know,” she tells me. “I was actually starting to consider dating Raymond for a while there.”

I laugh but then turn serious, sort of. “That’s not funny, Finn.”

She giggles for the first time tonight and I love the sound but I need some additional information.

“I’m still curious as to why you didn’t just call me out when you knew who I was the other night.”

I hope my question doesn’t scare her off like this afternoon. It doesn’t.

“I wondered if you’d tell me.”

“What do you mean?”

She takes a breath. “I mean, I figured it would be difficult for you to get through your entire trip pretending to be someone you’re not. I just wondered whether you’d tell me who you were before you left.”

“How’d you know it was me, though?” I ask her. “We’ve never met.”

“No, you’re right, we haven’t. But I know a lot about Maggie.”

The way she seems so familiar with my mother feels unexpectedly calming.

“Oh yeah? Why?”

“I um,” she chooses her words carefully. “I had this dream about her last year,” she tells me like it’s not a big deal.

“What was it about?”

“Nothing really,” she laughs it off. “It was just, you know, your typical dream about a witch, I guess.”

She clears her throat and continues. “Anyway my curiosity piqued and I started reading up about her. Then I found out about you. I saw some pictures of you from yearbooks.” She inspects me from head to toe.

“You’ve changed your hair and bulked up some, even changed the way you dress since then, but there’s no mistaking those eyes.”

She stares into them and I become lost in her.

I grin.

She noticed my eyes.

“You noticed my eyes?”

Finn breaks our gaze and teases. “Don’t get excited, I just notice things, that’s all.”

I see her cheeks redden and I know that’s not all.

Then I let it sink in that a complete stranger had a dream about my mother. Granted, Finn’s no stranger to me now but she was a year ago. My scattered thoughts move to when I ran into her over by Mom’s old home.

“That’s why you knew where she lived.”

Finn nods.

When I think about the house, I think about how I haven’t been able to go in yet. I have serious issues if I can’t even step foot inside my own home.

Jack Diggs comes to mind. The man has no home, I’ve never seen him before in my life but he knows me. He knew my name at least.

“Jack Diggs knew her,” I tell Finn. She doesn’t know what to say to that, so she puts her hand over mine and squeezes.

“You’ll figure it out, Coop,” she tells me, matter of factly, and my heart skips a beat. Hearing her say my name, my real name, not just
Mr. Shaw,
makes me forget what I was thinking.

“You called me Coop.”

She twists her mouth like she’s just been caught stealing from the cookie jar.

“It suits you.”

It does. Especially when she says it.

Things are quiet between us after that. We’ve both run out of things to say now. Things we’ve been avoiding since we met are out there and I’m at a standstill on the sharing is caring program. Finn is avoiding eye contact as she picks up her cup and takes a long sip.

That’s when I see our next topic of conversation again.

“So, do you think you want to tell me about that tattoo yet?” I motion to it by way of nodding and she lowers her cup. She twists her wrist to look at it and maybe to let me see it a little better, too.

“It’s just an infinity symbol.”

I can see it’s entwined with a heart and has the word
spiro
written into the figure eight against her skin.

I take her fingers into mine, tentatively, and pull her closer. I’m acutely aware of the way her hand feels in mine. It’s warm despite the cold air. And delicate, a contradiction to Finn’s soul. I hope she doesn’t notice I’m trembling as I turn her hand over and trace the ink with the tip of my finger. I focus my thoughts on the ink embedded beneath her skin, wanting to touch more of her, to learn more about her.

“Infinity reminds us of karma,” she tells me. Her voice is low and soft. “Karma reminds us that everything we give in this life, we get back in another, maybe even the same one.”

I look up to find her watching me carefully.

She swallows thickly before she continues. “It’s Hinduism ya know? Karma? It teaches us that—”

“I know what it means, Finn,” I tell her quietly, half seriously, half teasing. “Just because I’m not a practicing Saint doesn’t mean I’m lacking in the education of the origins of religion.”

And finally, I get a smile again.

“Touché, Mr. Shaw.”

I reach a hand out and selfishly let myself feel the top of her knee to see if it matches her hand.

It does.

“I think I like it better when you call me Coop.”

Finn’s lips part slightly, the smile diminishes. But not in a bad way.

“Okay.”

The urges I’ve been attempting to suppress resurface and suddenly, I’m not up for a beach party anymore.

“Can I interest you in leaving?” I ask her but Finn shakes her head, to my surprise. I mean for a second there, I thought we were on the same page.

“Not until you’ve had a s’more.”

“A s’more.”

She eyes me. “You’re doing it again.”

“I am.”
Shit. I am.

I laugh as Finn stands and grabs my hand to pull me to a fire pit not too far from where we’ve been sitting.

“You should do that more often, you know.”

“What’s that?”

She gets us a couple of sticks and some marshmallows.

“Laugh,” she says, showing me how to hold the marshmallows over the fire.

The crowd around the pit welcomes us into their group and someone tells a corny Halloween joke. I find myself chuckling as Finn bumps me with her hip. Once our sticky substance is perfectly roasted, we smash them in between a couple of graham crackers, add the chocolate bar and watch it all melt together in perfect harmony.

I start to eat mine but become entranced with the way the marshmallow sticks to Finns fingers and the way she licks it all off, making sure she doesn’t leave one spec of it behind.

I’m done for.

And not so hungry for sugary snacks anymore.

I hold mine out to her. “Want another?” I joke and she pushes me away but takes the s’more, with a smile.

“I do like my chocolate,” she says then she pulls my hand to her mouth and sucks the marshmallow from my fingers.

With Finn’s lips wrapped around my fingers I can’t think of much else except things I probably shouldn’t be contemplating at a public beach party.

She realizes what she’s doing and stops abruptly.

“I’m sorry,” she says as she blushes. It’s beautiful when she does that.

“Apologizing is highly overrated,” I tell her and for a few timeless moments, I feel like we’re the only two people standing on that beach. Until movement through the crowd catches my eye and I notice we’re being watched. I’m pretty sure Finn doesn’t want to hang around.

“Maybe we should take off,” I tell her. She follows my stare and agrees.

Before Dan and his buddies can make it over to where we are, we’re half way back to where I’ve parked.

On the car ride over to Geneva’s, Finn is holding my hand in hers like she’s done it every day of my life and I don’t make a move to pull out of her grasp. I like it there. In fact, it bothers me when she lets it go to get out of the car.

As we walk up to the door, Finn looks up and sees a light on in one of the second story rooms.

“Grans’ home. Do you want to come in, anyway?”

Do I want to?

Is she kidding me?

“I probably shouldn’t,” I tell her, trying to be a gentleman.

Her reply is a simple, “Okay.”

I put a hand on her arm before she can disappear on me again. “But yes, I’d love to.”

Her lips turn up for me as she opens the door.

“Gran!” she yells up the stairs. “I’m home, brought some company.”

“Goodnight dear,” Geneva hollers back down to her. “You too, Mr. Shaw.”

My head snaps up toward the top of the stairs and I catch Finn’s eyes before she continues on her way. I point and ask her, “How did she know it was me?”

Finn shrugs. “She’s Gran,” is all she offers before she disappears behind the kitchen doorway.