Page 14

Pearl

The smell of coffee tugged me out of sleep before I even opened my eyes.

For a second, I wasn’t sure where I was. The room was still as I was warm under my blanket and dim with the early light of morning pushing through the cabin window. My body felt like it had been through hell because, well, it had. I’d seen a dead body last night. A real one. And not just that… I’d seen two.

The memories came flooding back like a punch to the gut. The woman’s blood-streaked face. Anchor’s hand over my mouth. The eerie quiet in the tunnel beneath the island. The weight of everything I hadn’t asked for pressing down on me like a stone.

I sat up with a groan and rubbed at my eyes, hoping for a second I’d dreamed it all.

“About time you woke up.”

I jolted.

My eyes snapped toward the kitchen area, and I blinked twice when I saw Bernice, eighty years old and still as sharp as a damn tack, pouring coffee into one of the chipped mugs from the open shelf.

“Bernice?”

My voice rasped like I hadn’t used it in a year.

“What are you doing here?”

She raised her brows like I’d just asked her if she was human.

“Drinking coffee, what’s it look like?”

“No, I mean…”

I rubbed my forehead and tried to piece my thoughts together.

“You’re in my cabin.”

“Cabin was cold,”

she said matter-of-factly.

“You’ve got the morning sun in this one. My joints like it better in here.”

I stared at her, baffled.

“You could’ve knocked.”

“I did. You didn’t answer.”

She turned with the mug and handed it to me.

“So I let myself in. You left the door unlocked, sweet cheeks.”

That sounded like something I would’ve done. I’d been in no state to remember locking doors last night. Still, it was unsettling to realize someone could just walk in whenever they wanted. Even if that someone was a coffee-wielding eccentric like Bernice.

I took the mug and sat on the edge of the bed. “Thanks.”

Bernice sat on the couch. Her silver-white hair was already done up in its usual loose bun, and she was wearing a sweatshirt that said I’m not arguing, I’m just explaining why I’m right.

I wasn’t sure if I was comforted or unnerved by how at home she looked in my cabin.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,”

she said casually.

“Close enough,”

I muttered.

She didn’t ask. Didn’t press. Just sipped her coffee and looked at me over the rim like she already knew more than she was letting on.

“Bad dreams?”

she asked.

I shook my head.

“Nope. Real life.”

Bernice hummed.

“Real life’ll do that to you.”

There was a pause where I could’ve said something. Where I could’ve told her the whole damn story. The body. The blood. The way Anchor held me and told me not to scream like I might be next if I made a sound. But instead, I took a long drink of coffee and looked down into the mug like it had answers in the bottom.

“I didn’t expect to see you this morning,”

I said instead.

“Didn’t expect to be up this early, but old bones and a creaky mattress don’t mix.”

We sat in silence for a moment. The normal kind. Not the kind full of bodies and questions and secrets.

“Your dad’s already here,”

she added.

“He’s over by the haunted house talking to that skull-faced one.”

“Skull,”

I said automatically, the image of him from last night flashing in my mind.

“His name’s Skull.”

“Of course it is,”

she snorted.

“You don’t like them, do you?”

I asked, watching her carefully.

“I don’t like people who ride motorcycles and wear secrets like armor.”

“You’ve said the same thing about men in suits when we were working on the office building in Munster.”

“Still do.”

I smiled despite myself.

“You’re not scared of them, though.”

“I didn’t say that.”

She set her mug down on the coffee table and leaned forward, elbows on knees.

“I said you can’t trust ‘em. There’s a difference.”

I narrowed my eyes at her.

“Then why are you here?”

“Because you’re here.”

She pointed a wrinkled finger at me.

“And I told your daddy I’d keep an eye on you. You might think you’ve got everything under control, but I’ve been alive a long time, sweetheart. Seen more than you know.”

My chest tightened.

“And what do you think you’re seeing now?”

She tilted her head.

“I think there’s more going on here than a few coats of paint.”

That… wasn’t a lie.

“I also think that biker with the tattoos and brooding eyes is interested in you.”

My eyes widened. “Anchor?”

She nodded.

“He watches you like a man trying not to starve.”

My face burned hot.

“He’s just in charge. He’s making sure I don’t screw up his haunted house.”

Bernice gave me a look that said sure, Jan.

“You don’t think he’s handsome?”

“Of course I do. That doesn’t mean I trust him.”

“Why not?”

She sat back with a sigh.

“Because men like that usually come with stories written in blood, not ink.”

That sent a chill through me that had nothing to do with the cool morning air.

“I’m just saying,”

she added.

“be careful. There’s something about this place. About those boys.”

My heart was already ahead of me, racing off with every warning I’d been trying to ignore since I set foot on this island.

“Not ominous at all,”

I muttered.

Bernice gave me a sharp smile.

“Didn’t say it to scare you, Pearl. Just… don’t forget who you are, that’s all. You’re not some doe-eyed girl who gets swept away by danger.”

“Who said anything about being swept away?”

“I saw how you looked at him.”

I groaned and flopped back on the bed, mug held up in the air. “Shut up.”

Bernice chuckled.

“I’m just saying… keep your wits about you. You’ve got talent, drive, and good instincts. Don’t lose any of that for some guy with scars and secrets.”

“I won’t,”

I promised. But even as I said it, I wasn’t sure if I meant it.

Because Anchor wasn’t just some guy. And last night, when everything had gone sideways, he’d been the one to hold me up.

I’d felt safer in his arms than I’d ever expected to feel on a haunted island surrounded by bikers and dead bodies.

Bernice stood and stretched, groaning softly.

“You better get dressed. I imagine today’s gonna be a long one.”

I nodded, still staring up at the ceiling.

She was halfway to the door before I called after her.

“Hey, Bernice?”

She looked over her shoulder.

“Thanks for the coffee.”

She winked.

“Anytime, kiddo. Don’t forget to lock the door this time.”

Then she was gone, leaving me with a warm mug and a head full of thoughts.