Page 26 of Bewitched By the Siren (The Bewitching Hour #1)

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Hali

I am freaking. The fuck. Out.

Today was so awesome, and I really do believe Brendan when he says he had no ulterior motives. I could see the truth in his eyes when he explained why he planned the trip to Natasha’s.

Could he see the lies in mine? The way I shut down when he was talking about how my voice affected Natasha?

Of course, it did. I made a split-second decision to take off my necklace for the session. I don’t know why. Maybe I wanted to hear, for myself, what others hear when I perform. To see if it would affect me the way it does humans.

It didn’t, of course, but even in the car, listening to the recording through the car’s speakers, I could see the magic weaving around Brendan. It showed me how hearing my songs on the radio would affect the masses.

It made me feel so gross. Like I was taking advantage of my power and using it to manipulate others. I already feel that every week at Memaw’s , but I make myself feel better by thinking about how necessary it is to take care of Mom.

I need that money. But I don’t need to be famous.

After peeking in on Mom and finding her asleep, I pace the house a bit.

My nervous energy doesn’t dissipate in the slightest, so I step outside.

Grateful to my temporary neighbor’s find back deck empty, I jog down to the beach.

A walk in the sand, listening to the waves crashing and the sea birds crying always calms me.

My thoughts turn back to Brendan as I start to walk up the beach.

He’s so sweet and generous, making today happen for me.

I felt like such a fraud, listening to him go on and on about how great I am.

I wanted to just blurt the truth out and be done with it.

I argued with myself in my head all the way home, listing out the pros and cons.

The possible dangers outweighed every good thing that could come of confessing, so I kept my mouth shut.

It’s not just about me and my fears over losing him. Hell, that’s going to happen anyway, isn’t it? No, I kept quiet because if Brendan were to freak out and tell someone, my life would be in danger. For my own safety and that of my mother, I have to keep my secret to myself.

Just like I always have.

But, God, knowing that doesn’t erase the guilt I feel for lying to him.

It’s stupid, really. Mom and I have fought so hard to keep this secret for over twenty years, and here I am, obsessing over keeping it from a man I’ve known for all of five days.

But knowing how ridiculous it is doesn’t make the sting of guilt hurt any less.

Movement up ahead catches my eye, and I freeze when I see a stranger up ahead, a camera mashed against his face and its long lens pointed right at me.

“What the…?” I murmur, then he pulls the camera away, and I can see he’s wearing a ski mask. A freaking ski mask. He turns to run, so I shout, “Hey!”

Ignoring me, he runs for the row of houses opposite the shoreline, disappearing between two before I can even take a step forward.

Should I chase him? I shake my head at the thought.

No. That would be dumb. He’s wearing a ski mask and taking photos of me, for Christ’s sake.

He’s probably some kind of freak. Or a pervert.

I need to get out of here. Back to the safety of home.

Spinning around, I start to jog, looking back over my shoulder every couple of seconds to make sure the stranger hasn’t changed directions to follow me.

When I look back for the tenth time, I squeal as I slam into a hard body.

Hands close around my upper arms, and I scream again, twisting and thrashing to free myself with my eyes squeezed tightly closed.

“Hali,” a familiar voice barks, “it’s me.”

I go completely still, my eyes popping open to see Brendan, his face twisted into a worried expression. I sag with relief, his grip on my arms the only thing holding me upright at the moment.

“What’s going on?” he asks. “Are you okay? Did something happen?”

“Sorry. Sorry,” I gasp. “It’s nothing. Really.”

“It’s not nothing,” he says. “You look as white as a sheet. Talk to me.”

“You’re going to think I’m being silly.”

“No, I won’t,” he says firmly. “I wouldn’t.”

“Okay. I was walking down the beach. Thinking, you know?” When he nods, I take a deep breath and blurt the rest out. “There was a man up there taking picture of me with a long lens. He was wearing a ski mask.”

“A ski mask?” he asks, his head rearing back a couple of inches before leaning to the side to survey the stretch of beach behind me.

“Yeah. Weird, right?”

“Yeah,” he says as he looks at me again, his mouth falling into a tight frown as his eyebrows draw down low over her eyes.

“What?” I ask.

“Nothing,” he says, wiping his expression clean. “I just don’t like to think of people stalking you like that, is all.”

“You think he’s a stalker?” I ask, looking back over my shoulder with a shiver.

“I don’t know,” he says, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. “Let’s get you back home, and it’s probably best not to come out here to the beach by yourself for a few days.”

I nod even though I hate the idea of some stranger keeping me from enjoying my happy place.

Of course, if Brendan is right, it’s probably best not to tempt fate when someone is obviously taking pictures of me.

What if I accidentally got wet, and my tail popped out?

I mean, it’s highly unlikely with how careful I am, but it’s not impossible.

“How about I order some pizza for us and your mom for dinner?” he asks, and I find myself nodding eagerly.

Even though I wanted space to figure things out regarding Brendan and the truth about my nature, I can’t resist his offer. If someone is, in fact, stalking me, I’ll feel much safer with Brendan around. Plus, Mom might disown me if I turned him down. She freaking loves spending time with him.

We head inside, and I go to check on Mom while Brendan orders the pizzas.

She’s awake and when I tell her about our dinner plans, she smiles brightly––just like I knew she would.

I call out to Brendan, and he appears, helping me get Mom situated in her chair before wheeling her out to the living room.

“What did you guys do today?” she asks as I walk in behind them, and Brendan looks at me with raised eyebrows.

He’s leaving it up to me to decide if I want Mom to know about the thumb drive in my pocket. He’s obviously being considerate, but it’s unnecessary. I’ve never lied to Mom, and I don’t plan on starting now.

“Brendan surprised me with a visit to Natasha Monk’s house in Savannah.”

“Natasha Monk? The Natasha Monk?” she asks, looking at Brendan with wide eyes.

“The one and only,” he says with a grin. “My boss represents her, and we’ve met a few times. She’s really nice. Down to earth. And she offered to let Hali record a few songs in her private recording studio.”

Mom flashes a surprised look at me. “And did you?”

I pull the thumb drive from my pocket to show her, and the look on her face makes all my worries fade away. She’s heard me sing before, of course, but never without my necklace on and, obviously, never with professional equipment recording me.

Walking over to the stereo, I plug in the thumb drive and turn the volume up.

Mom’s eyes widen as she lifts a hand and presses it to her chest. Her eyes start to water, and I feel my own start to sting.

Brendan moves in beside me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders, and I lean into him as I watch my mother really hear me sing for the first time.

When the song ends, I turn off the stereo as I sniff back my tears. “We’ll listen to the rest later.”

“There’s more?” she asks, her throat clogged with emotion.

“I recorded three songs,” I say, and a smile stretches her lips as she moves her gaze to Brendan.

“What an amazing gift,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Brendan says, and I can hear an unexpected catch in his voice.

I look at him, and he chuckles as he rubs a knuckle beneath his right eye. Warmth blooms in my chest at his show of emotion. His awareness of how monumental this is for my mom, and the fact that he took that into consideration when planning today and knew how much it would mean to her…

I’m in awe of him. I honestly thought men like Brendan didn’t exist.

The doorbell rings, startling me, and Brendan holds up a palm to stop me when I move to answer the door. The warning in his eyes tells me his insistence is more than simple chivalry. He’s thinking about the guy taking pictures of me on the beach earlier, and he’s trying to keep me safe.

I nod, and he goes to answer the door. When I look at Mom, she’s studying me with a critical eye.

“What?”

“You’re smitten,” she says, her tone matter of fact.

“I am not,” I argue, but there’s no heat behind it.

“You are. And I approve. He’s a good man, Hals.”

“I know he is,” I say, sadness leaching through the words.

“Hali––” Mom starts, but is cut off when Brendan strides back into the living room with a pizza box and a six-pack of sodas.

“All right, who’s hungry?” he asks jovially.

I force a smile and raise my hand, earning a grin from him. He sits on the couch and flips open the box. Grabbing a paper plate from a stack I didn’t see him carrying, he pulls out a slice and hands it to Mom as I move to sit beside him on the couch.

We eat. We laugh. We have a great night.

And I forget for a while that he’ll be leaving soon. I forget about the secrets I’m keeping, and the carnage they’d wreak if he found out. Or, at least, I try to forget.

But the knowledge is always there, in the back of my mind, reminding me that I cannot fall for this man. No matter how charming, kind, and handsome he is.

I just can’t.