Page 23

“S’gonna get ya!”

The little boy growls as he chases his squealing sister, holding a paper Loch Ness Monster attached to a thin wooden rod. Their mother shakes her head from where she leans against the wall, and their father scrubs a hand down his face before sharing a wry look with her; I’m sure that instances like this are commonplace, given how close in age the children seem to be. Their dad once again moves between them to break things up, and the old fluorescents catch on his hair, reflecting the red highlights in it.

I can’t help but picture my dad again, younger than I last saw himbut not a child—a young man with hair like mine being pulled to shore in the dead of night bysomethingthat by all means shouldn’t exist. I’ve heard the story so many times in my life, renditions at bedtime when I was sick, over and over again until I could recite it by heart, and now that I’m here…I don’t know. Looking at this childish little attraction that barely seems to take itself seriously makes me doubt everything.

But I also remember the look in my dad’s eyes in those last few days. I remember how he told the story again, how he had forgottenso muchof his life because of his affliction but still remembered every detail of that one moment. I remember the sincerity in his gaze when he recounted it for what would be the very last time, the way he gripped my arm and asked me to take him back there—something I am fairly certain he didn’t even realize he was asking. I would even go so far as to imagine it’s something he wouldn’t have asked had he been in his right mind. Which means I didn’thaveto honor it. I know he wouldn’t have held it against me. And yet here I am, in a fucking children’s museum about a damned cryptid, trying to cobble together some connection to the only person who ever loved me.

I miss him.

That’s the crux of it all. It’s why I’m here, if I’m being honest. Because I am terrified of moving forward with my life without him. Maybe I thought that by coming here, I could find some piece of him left behind, something I could cling to so it felt a little less like he was gone forever. Something that won’t make me feel so utterlyalonein this world.

Judging by the awkward dinner last night and the breakfast this morning that wasn’t much better—I have a niggling worry that I won’t be finding anything like that.

I wander around Loch Land for another half hour just so itdoesn’t feel like I completely wasted thirty pounds—which feels like highway robbery now that I’ve been inside—finding most of the exhibits to be more of the same. There’s nothing here that I haven’t already read myself online, and there’s definitely nothing that would lead me closer to finding any sort of truth in my dad’s stories.

The older woman up front gives me that same quirk of her brow when I quietly thank her while walking out, probably wondering what a grown woman is doing playing around with the Loch Ness Monster block puzzle in the back. Which I did, but only because I accidentally knocked it over, and it bothered me to leave it a mess.

It’s misty outside—the weather still dreary from the heavy rain the day before—and I pull the hood up on my raincoat in a meager attempt to keep my hair from turning into a frizzy nightmare, blowing a stray curl away from my face as I pass the horrendous statue posted by the front gate that leads out to the street. I had sort of hurried past it on my way in, because it’s truly awful; it has a face that resembles more closely a giraffe, and horns that point straight up like an antelope, which even by myth standard, I’m sure isn’t accurate. The entire thing is painted in rings of neon colors down to where it ends at the belly that rests in the dirt, and the arms that stick straight out like a Tyrannosaurus rex’s are misshapen and slightly crooked, making the thing as a whole appear kind of sad and silly all at once.

I jolt when a car door slamming sounds behind me, feeling my entire body stiffen when I turn to see the person I’dleastlike to catch me here only a few feet away, smirking at me from the driver’s side of his Rover. He locks the car behind him before circling to step onto the sidewalk, and I cross my arms over my chest, narrowing my eyes at him as he approaches.

“Are youfollowingme?”

Lachlan cocks a brow. “Following you? I’ve got a lot better things to do than follow you around, princess.” My hackles rise at the stupid nickname he won’t let go of, but his finger jabbing behind me distracts me from telling him to fuck off, turning to notice the metal building across the street whose sign tells me it’s a feed store of some kind. “Your granny sent me after a few things. She had a calf drop this morning whose mum abandoned her. Need bottles and such.”

“You’re going to feed it?”

“Aye,” he says, cocking his head. “Unless you’d like to?” His eyes move to the ugly statue beside us, his lips twitching with amusement. “Och, but you’re busy, yeah?”

My lips purse. “Yeah, laugh it up. You guys think you’re so fucking funny.”

“Ah, don’t mind the twins, lass. They meant no harm. They’re just nutty, is all. They can’t resist.”

“I noticeyoudidn’t say anything either,” I point out.

“Well, I reckon Loch Land is a safer bet for your adventuring than climbing over the rocks of Skallangal Cove. At least here you aren’t in danger of breaking your legs.”

“I told you what I was doing at the cove,” I huff.

His eyes soften then, his mouth turning down in a frown. “You did. You might have mentioned that earlier, you know. But it’s still dangerous to be out at the cove by yourself.”

“I can handle myself just fine,” I grumble, rolling my eyes.

“I believe that you believe that,” he laughs, letting his eyes sweep across our surroundings with a grin before he adds, “I notice you didn’t bring your dear cousin with you. Did he bore you to death on the drive home?”

I don’t really want to give Lachlan any kind of ammunition to useagainst me, because it seems like he might have discovered that he loves to irritate me, so I just shrug nonchalantly. “Brodie is fine,” I say. “He was just busy this morning.”

Not that I would know, I think,since I snuck out after breakfast before he could spot me.

Again, it’s not that I dislike Brodie; he actually seems like a nice guy, but this is something I wanted to do on my own. Not with someone I just met. Not that I’m going to tell Lachlan that, since it all turned out to be bogus.

“Oh, is that right?” Lachlan’s smile widens, turning a bit sly and causing a dimple to pop in his cheek that immediately draws my eye.Fuck. That’s not fair. He shouldn’t be allowed to look like he doesandhave dimples when he’s such a dick. “You two fast friends, then?”

I scowl, tearing my eyes away from the offensive dimple that on anyone else would be utterly lickable. “You’re such an ass.”

“That’s what they tell me,” he chuckles.

“What’s the deal between you and Brodie anyway?”