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I stop and look up at him. Way up. He’s not quite as tall as Jud’s six-foot-eight, but he’s got to be at least six-five. This is the closest I’ve been to him, and I can see the gray in his beard and the smile lines making a frame for his goatee. His eyes are a snapping blue-gray with too much white.
I swallow hard, like I’m waiting to learn why I’ve been sent to the principal’s office.
We stand there, saying nothing, his hand shackling me. He’s studying me, and my insides are squirming. It’s not an entirely unpleasant sensation. Even though Rev unsettles me, there’s an energy about him that calls to something womanly inside me.
I bite my lip. “I guess news travels fast around here.” I wonder if everyone knows about the pelican by now.
“Real fast,” he agrees. His gaze drifts away from me and goes distant. “Hard to keep secrets at Eagle Peak.” For a moment, he looks…resigned? But then his eyes snap back to me, and the moment is over. “Did it seeminterestedin you?” he asks, emphasis on the “interested.”
I blink. “The pelican?”
“The pelican,” he confirms, and he looks at where his fingers encircle my arm. His eyes lose some of their intense energy, and his whole face settles. His mouth parts around a sigh, and his thumb strokes me through my hoodie. His touch is electric. A zing of awareness stirs in my middle.
What is it about the men here? Despite my reservations about them and despite my history with Leon, I’m attracted to them. All of them. Even Rev, who is so much older than me and whose eyes make me feel like my soul is beingX-rayed.
I relax into his touch, meet his gaze, and feel…known.
They’re not crazy eyes, I realize in that moment. They’re eyes that see more than they should, like they’re taking in more information than he can comfortably process. What is it like to be the prophet of the group? The one giving guidance and keeping hope alive for the men here?
I have to remind myself of his question. Did the pelican seem interested in me? I send my mind back to being in the garden with Doc. It had felt strange the way the bird watched us so avidly.
“I lowered my voice,” I say. Realizing that wouldn’t make sense to him, since he wasn’t there, I explained. “I told Doc about the heron Jud shot yesterday.” Rev nods to show he knows what I’m talking about. “But I lowered my voice so the pelican wouldn’t hear. Why would I do that? It’s just a bird.”
“You have good instincts,” Rev answered. “That’s why. You did good, girl. Real good.”
His praise is an arrow of happiness to my chest. It makes me hot and happy in a squirmy way I don’t understand. Being called “girl” should make me feel belittled, but for some reason it doesn’t. It’s like I can tell he’s not using it to put me down, but as an endearment.
“You see anything like that again,” he goes on, “—any kind of wildlife out place, seeming to watch you—you let one of us know real quick.”
“Um, okay.” He’s holding me by both arms now. I should feel crowded by him, but I don’t. I feel understood. I feel protected. “Do you mind if I ask—um—why I should let someone know if I see a weird bird again?”
He drifts lower, closer, until I think he’s going to kiss me, and I’m actually okay with that. I think, maybe I’ll invite Rev to spend the night with me. But he doesn’t kiss me. Instead, he answers my question in a purr so close it sends shivers up my spine.
“Because they’re more than just birds, little girl.” Did I say his eyes weren’t crazy? Scratch that. From inches in front of mine, they’re definitely crazy. Those eyes make me wonder what he did to earn his prison sentence. “There’s something goin’ on. Something dark. And I’ll die before I let it touch your light.” With that, he lets go of me and stalks away, and I know for a fact I’ll invite someone else to my cabin tonight.
Chapter 7
Cora
I’m used tothe growl of the generator behind the lodge. I even find its constant presence comforting. But as I approach the huge building Scrap uses as his shop, I realize for the first time just how invasive the roar of anindustrial-sized generator is. It’s much louder than the one powering the lodge, and the sound grows even louder as I get closer, loud enough to rattle my teeth.
I press on, hoping the sound is somewhat muffled once I’m inside—possibly wishful thinking on my part since one entire side of the shop is open to the outside, raised like an oversized garage door. I walk through the opening, and it’s…not quieter inside. Sure, the generator isn’t obnoxious anymore, but that’s only because thumping rave music is drowning it out.
It’s not just the music and gennie overwhelming my senses. Inside, the shop is a holy mess of workbenches, free-standing shelving, vehicles on make-shift lifts, multi-drawer toolboxes, and a floor-to-ceiling wall of tires in every size imaginable. It’s almost too much to look at, and that’s before I take in the work-out area at the back. A bunch of weight machines wait like benched players along the perimeter, and a basketball hoop hangs over it all. Then there’s the scent of grease and metal taking the place of the fresh, pine scent outdoors.
It takes me a minute to locate Scrap amidst the chaos of his domain. I find him at a workbench with his spiky head bent over what seems to be a large rifle with a cone-shaped barrel.
I don’t want to startle him, so I wave my arms to get his attention.
When he notices me, he straightens up and gives me a flirty smile.
I can’t help smiling in return.
It takes him a few moments to walk over to the sound system and turn down the music. My shoulders drop to their normal position, and I realize they were all bunched up. I can definitely hear the generator outside, and the music is still audible, but I’m not overwhelmed anymore.
“Cora! Hey, baby girl! What brings you to my neck of the woods?” He spreads his arms, taking proud ownership of his shop.
“Just thought I’d take a walk, see what you were up to.” I motion to the rifle. “You making a potato gun or something?” The contraption looks like a rifle and a bullhorn had a baby.
