Page 24 of Curve Balls and Second Chances (Pickwick Pirate Queens #1)

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

T hat evening, after a full day at the coffee shop, Rose found herself pacing in her living room.

The hardwood floors creaked faintly beneath her bare feet, each step marking out the rhythm of her restless thoughts.

The windows were open, the evening breeze drifting through lace curtains, carrying with it the faint scent of honeysuckle and damp earth.

It should’ve been calming. Instead , the quiet only made her thoughts louder.

The same questions spun in her mind, a carousel she couldn’t step off.

Why was Briana targeting Declan ?

What was her endgame?

What exactly was she implying with her comments about rewriting history?

Rose wrapped her arms around herself, standing near the mantle where old family photos were lined up in mismatched frames.

One caught her eye—her and Riley at twelve, grinning with matching missing front teeth.

Another , her mother in a Sunday dress, holding a younger Rose in her lap.

Those memories were supposed to be safe, untouched by Briana’s sharp tongue or carefully crafted drama.

But lately, even the most ordinary things felt like they had shadows lurking behind them.

She turned away, moving to the couch and sinking down.

Her body was tired from the long shift. Coffee spills, Cindy’s rants about the town council’s poor budgeting for the fall festival, and the subtle hum of gossip that ran like electricity through every small-town establishment. But her mind wouldn’t quiet.

Acen had said he was done with Briana . Had shown it, too—his words steady, his choices clear. But Briana wasn’t the type to accept “no.” She was the type to pry open old wounds, wedge herself in like a splinter, and smile while doing it. And now she was circling Declan like a hawk over new prey.

Rose rubbed her temples, the pads of her fingers pressing into the tension that had settled there.

Should she warn Declan ? He was a grown man, after all.

He’d already proved he wasn’t naive. Thoughtful , yes, but not blind.

Still … the thought of him getting dragged into Briana’s game made her stomach twist. Declan didn’t deserve that.

He deserved a clean slate, a chance to plant roots in Pickwick Bend without somebody weaponizing the past against him.

And selfishly - Rose admitted it - she didn’t want Briana using Declan to needle her. She didn’t want Briana tainting something that felt, for once, like possibility instead of regret.

Her phone buzzed on the coffee table, making her jump.

She leaned forward and picked it up. A text from Acen .

You free? I’ve got news. Meet me at the dock?

Rose stared at the words, heart thudding. She hesitated, chewing on her bottom lip. This was dangerous territory. Meeting Acen at the dock pulled on a thread of the past she wasn’t sure she wanted to unravel. But her curiosity, her fear of what Briana might’ve done now, outweighed her caution.

She slipped on her sandals, grabbed her keys, and locked the door behind her.

The drive across town was short, but it gave her too much time to think. The streets of Pickwick Bend were quiet this late in the evening, porch lights glowing, dogs barking distantly as if to announce her passing. She rolled down her window, the thick summer night pressing in.

The dock behind the high school hadn’t changed in years. Locals fished there during the day, kids snuck beers at night, and once upon a time it had been her spot with Acen . That thought alone made her chest tighten.

When she pulled into the gravel lot, she spotted him immediately. Acen leaned against one of the wooden posts, arms crossed, his frame backlit by the silvery wash of moonlight on the water. His stance was casual, but she knew him well enough to see the tension in his shoulders.

He turned as she approached, pushing off the post. “ Sorry for the short notice,” he said, voice low.

“What’s going on?” she asked, her sandals scuffing against the boards of the dock.

Without answering, he pulled a folded piece of paper from his back pocket and handed it to her. His fingers brushed hers briefly - warm, solid.

She unfolded it, the paper crinkling in the quiet night. Her eyes scanned the typed words, and she froze.

Ask Rose McAllister what really happened the summer Acen left. Some of us haven’t forgotten who she used to be.

Her blood ran cold. The night sounds, the chirp of crickets, the gentle lap of water against the dock, faded into a hollow silence.

“Where did you get this?” she whispered.

“Someone dropped it off at the garage,” Acen said, his jaw tight. “ Addressed to me.”

Her grip on the letter tightened, the edges cutting into her fingers. “ You think it’s from Briana ?”

“I don’t think,” he said softly. “ I know . It’s just her style to pull something like this.”

Rose exhaled shakily, her throat tight. Of course it was Briana . This had her fingerprints all over it. She was twisting the past, digging up pain that should’ve been buried long ago.

Her hands trembled slightly, and she hated that Acen could see it.

“She’s not just trying to ruin this,” he said, watching her closely. “ She’s trying to rewrite the past. And if we don’t face it head-on, she’s going to win.”

Rose looked out over the water. The river stretched wide and endless, reflecting the moon in broken shards, like glass cracked but still holding together. The sight was beautiful and fragile all at once, and it mirrored exactly how she felt.

Her voice came out low. “ She’s right about one thing.”

Acen tilted his head. “ What’s that?”

“There’s more to that summer than I’ve ever told anyone.” The words slipped out before she could catch them, heavy with meaning, with memory.

Acen’s gaze didn’t waver. “ Then tell me,” he said, steady, unwavering. “ All of it.”

Silence hung heavy between them, filled only by the creak of the dock and the distant croak of a frog along the bank.

Acen touched her arm. “ If Briana wants to drag the past into the light, let her. But she doesn’t get to define it. You do. Whatever it is she thinks she knows.”

Rose blinked against the sting in her eyes. She wanted to believe him. Wanted to believe the past didn’t have to be a weapon in Briana’s hands.

But part of her was terrified. Terrified that once everything came out, even Acen wouldn’t look at her the same way again.