Page 12 of The Redd Key (Bone Coven #1)

M artin cawed in the sky above my doorway while Pilot leapt up the stairs to sniff the dead seagull. Ferran soon appeared at my ankles. Bile quickly rose in my throat as the flash of black swooped down upon the dead gull and pecked at it. The fox then dove at the poor creature, snapping it up, and took off with the deceased creature between his jaws, with the crow following the bird. Ferran chirped in the cutest way cats do, a strange contrast to what was occurring. Afterward, he bounded off to chase his two friends. My stomach churned at the entire ordeal.

Yet again, after this morning’s bombardment of text messages, my phone pinged. The familiar tone designated to my work email eased my mind as I stepped back inside the apartment and shut the door. The website my mother and I built hosted many of the artifacts and heirlooms we collected, allowing our clientele to purchase them directly. Unfortunately, I had been ignoring the incoming inquiries and orders for weeks. Today, I needed the diversion and decided to get caught up.

Living on an island posed unique challenges regarding the shipping phase of my business. I did not know whether I could ship directly from here or if I would have to take the ferry to the mainland. I had yet to explore the docks on the north shore; plus, it was an excuse to visit Jeff.

Pulling myself together while feeling so on edge about—well, everything—was a challenge in its own right. Looking around at the strewn boxes and half-filled dresser, I really needed to dedicate time to unpack. I grabbed my ripped light-wash jeans, a tank top, and my oversized chunky knit cardigan. The deep green of the sweater made my hazel eyes gleam like honey. I grabbed a claw clip and pulled back half of my hair, though a few stubborn strands fell around my face. I admit it: I’m one of those weirdos who will one hundred percent wear flip-flops while fully dressed for cold weather. And that’s exactly what I did.

The treasure chest, with its contents replaced, was strapped safely in the passenger seat of my car. The drive to the docks was easy but took longer than I had anticipated. After heading north on Peak Drive, I turned left and headed west, following the contour of the coast until I reached the small harbor. The road gently curved, and the long stretch allowed my thoughts to wander elsewhere, like Nathan’s texts.

Was he really going to show up? He threatened to do as much. Still, I would never ask him to confirm; I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of thinking he lived in my head rent-free. All our extracurricular activities aside, perhaps he would actually be able to help me verify the wooden chest and its contents if he did suddenly appear on Redd Hills Island. I wasn’t sure how I’d explain acquiring such an artifact, but he usually doesn’t pry in these situations. In the past, I’ve shown a bit too much fervor and may or may not have toed the line of grave-robber, so to speak. He has previously helped me out with items that just “appeared” in my possession.

If I were to be honest with myself, it wouldn’t be shocking if he discovered where I moved to without me explicitly telling him. Nathan Stone is a force to be reckoned with. He has a way with people, and he radiates charisma. Even recognizing his mind games and gaining the self-awareness of being a pawn does little to stop one from being addicted to the energy he gives off. I’ve seen him maneuver course schedule changes, grant placements, and even change University policy just by smiling while uttering trite speeches. The man knows what he has and how to use it, and I honestly cannot fault him for that. All he needed to do was visit student relations and ask for my forwarding address.

Obviously, there are laws in place to protect a student’s safety and privacy, but all the administration secretary needed to do was leave my file up on her screen as she got whisked away to another task. If Nathan just so happened to see it while walking by…well, fair play. Also, I’m sure she was, at some point, one of Nathan’s pets. I saw the way she would look at him whenever he was in the office, adjusting her blouse and hair while maintaining heavy eye contact. He would have to walk through her hall daily to reach the stairs to his office. As I was his student and “helped” him with extensive “research,” he and I would walk by her desk often, which allowed me to see how he affected her as well as other people. I always wondered if she ever knew who I was to him, what I was to him.

Seagulls calling out overhead blared through my open car window, making me flinch as I pulled into the gravel lot of the harbor. I tried really hard to forget about this morning’s tragedy, but their cries dragged the image of the dead gull back into the forefront of my mind. Along the docks were a few workers moving crates around, some being transferred onto a flatbed. Piles of ropes, stacks of empty crab cages, and reels of fishing nets were situated at haphazard intervals along the harbor. Boats for both pleasure and commercial use were docked, bobbing up and down in the calm waters.

Across from the main area where the crews were loading their dollies a building was set up high on stilts. Flags of many colors adorned its balcony, which had a ramp jutting straight out into the gravel lot. As the scent of bacon filled the air, it dawned on me. It was a restaurant. I took a few steps toward the local dive before I jumped backward.

Honking and slamming on their brakes, a salt-rusted pickup truck crunched the gravel as it stopped short before colliding with me. With his window rolled down completely, my eyes met the driver’s.

“I am so sorry, I didn’t see you com—” I stopped blubbering when I saw the man’s expression. His eyes shot daggers at me. His grey eyes. Cole .

His lips were drawn tight as his jaw clenched. The muscles in his arm, which rested on the door, were tense as he gripped the edge of the frame. He didn’t utter a word but continued staring at me with the most contemptuous expression. The line of his mouth locked into a slight frown as he turned to face forward, and the hand which clutched the contour of his door flexed open before resting on the frame. The truck pulled ahead, driving to the far end of the parking lot as I hurried in the opposite direction.

Nearly throwing myself around one of the pilings of the restaurant. I rapidly caught my breath, fighting the urge to hyperventilate. My chest heaved , and the edges of my vision threatened to turn black as I forced oxygen back into my lungs. Each arm and leg tingled to the tips of my fingers and toes. My heartbeat pounded against my eardrums.

Because at this point, there was no denying it—when I looked into the driver’s eyes, I knew I was standing before him , the man in the cove. Cole was the man haunting me night after night. Now, in the daylight and wide awake, it was very clear to me that this was no dream, but quite the opposite. It was an absolute nightmare.

There was no glimmer of recognition in his face, nor any tenderness. My heart didn’t even have time to realize who he was before my stomach plummeted. Instead of the mystical moment connecting us, like in the cove, he almost hit me with his truck and looked at me as if I was some bimbo oblivious to her surroundings.

Well, he wouldn’t be entirely wrong.

The wormy feeling in my guts wouldn’t go away even though my pulse slowed, and I had gotten my breathing under control. Taking a few more deep breaths to prepare myself, I stepped from behind the building’s stilt to search for Jeff.

“Ah, ow!” I slammed right into what seemed to be a rigid box that hadn’t been there a moment ago. My nose stung as it took the brunt of the collision. “ Fuck, ” I whimpered as I rubbed it, eyes clenched shut in pain. Wincing, I opened them to see that the solid figure was, in fact, an enormous man. Cole stood as if he was made from stone, glaring down at me with the same loathsome expression as he had just minutes ago.

“What are you doing back here?” His voice was deeply hoarse as he spoke the words through his teeth. A hint of an accent, as if almost forgotten, laced the edge of his tone. I tucked away this tiny detail.

It was hard to look him in the eye, and not because of his obvious disdain for my mere existence. Even now, as he peered down at me from more than a foot above, those grey eyes were alive with the intensity of a raging storm on an ashen horizon. His arms crossed over his chest; the muscles strained against the thin material of his black shirt. Just the mere size of the man blocked me, keeping me tucked into the space between the pilings and the building. I would be lying if I said I didn’t feel like prey that had been trapped.

No words came to mind as I gawked at him wide-eyed. A few inches apart, there was no mistaking that he was who had been in the cove with me, but other than seeing his features, nothing between us felt the same as it had in my dream. There was no familiarity, no comfort, no desire. Definitely no desire from him. From me? All I wanted to do was run away.

“Raina,” Jeff shouted as he hopped off a docked vessel onto the wooden boards of the harbor. “What are you doing here?” He stripped his gloves off, throwing them on top of an empty crate. He walked across the gravel lot to where Cole and I stood. Cole didn’t move as I peered around him.

“I—I came to say hi.” My words fought against my throat, refusing to come out. “And I have work I need to catch up on. Shipments.” Cole shifted his weight, and my eyes shot back to him. “I was coming to ask about shipping options. I’ve never lived on an island before.” The longer I looked at the man’s harsh face, the more I matched his energy. By the end of my short speech, my words came out with a sharp edge. “Can you move?” I had to tilt my head almost all the way back to square off at him. Cole didn’t move, but I couldn’t continue to be cornered like that. I tried to shoulder past his large frame. Only when my body threatened to move against his as I tried to pass did he finally take the smallest step to the side, leaving just enough room for me to get by. “Thanks.” The word landed like a punch.

Jeff eyed the limited space between Cole and me as he now stood from behind. “Do you two know each other?” His brow furrowed. Cole stiffly turned to face Jeff, tilting his chin up the slightest bit. His smokey eyes switched between mine and my brother’s with a conclusive look. I barely spotted the movement, but he narrowed his eyes with a slight dip of his head before walking away.

“Don’t be long,” Cole barked over his shoulder at Jeff.

“So, do you know him?” Jeff pressed. I had seen that look before. He was in full big-brother mode. Beyond it, as if he was ready to go to war. Regardless, Cole would flatten him even though Jeff wasn’t exactly a small dude.

“No, we don’t know each other,” I replied. The words’ insufficiency weighed heavily on me. There was no explaining how the Cole in real life was so distorted compared to the Cole in my dream. When I saw him that morning on Peak Drive, suspecting he was the man in the dream, I thought there would be something between us if we ever met or got close enough. Yet, there was absolutely nothing there. He just seemed like a total ass, aligning with what Sarah and Bridget told me about him.

“That’s my boss. Cole Harlin.” He looked over to where Cole walked off. “Like I said, he doesn’t say much as long as I’m doing the work. So, what’s up? You need to ship stuff?”

My gaze followed Jeff’s to where Cole disappeared into a weathered boat. Shaking my head, I got back to my point. “I have a buyer for the writing desk. She said they may also be interested in a few other furniture pieces as well. You know how these things go. She won’t do a bulk order but wants to spread it out over months—one item at a time. So, do I ship from the harbor, or do I need to head up to the mainland?”

“I don’t know.” Jeff shrugged.

“You don’t know?” I asked with a bite of indignation.

He shook his head. “Nope. We haven’t had to ship off anything other than regular mail since I’ve been here. So, I have no clue.”

“Well, who would know?” I threw my hands out as I asked the question. The smirk on his face made my expression fall. “Jeff, really?”

“Yes, Rai, he’s the boss. Cole knows pretty much everything about here.”

“You ask him, then.” I tilted my head towards the boat.

“Wuss.”

“Yes, and I’m not ashamed.” I groaned, but Jeff stood firm. “Ugh, fine!” The amusement on his face made me want to smack him.

“If you’re quick, you can still catch him. He’s home.” Jeff chuckled, pointing at the rundown-looking boat.

“He lives on that thing?” I wasn’t judging, but I was surprised. Cole was tall and broad, like someone who’d live in a remote cabin in the forest. Not a small fishing boat with a likely smaller cabin below deck.

“I have to get back to work, but you can talk to him. Yeah, he’s scary. Get over it.” Jeff elbowed me in the ribs before returning to the dock and picking up his gloves.

I didn’t move. For a few long moments, I heavily considered whether or not the sale of these items was worth it. My skin crawled at the thought of knocking on Cole’s door, and for the ten minutes that passed since he left Jeff and me, the heaviness of disappointment grew in my core.

For whatever reason, reality absolutely crushed me. I hadn’t realized I longed to believe in the magic of the cove that badly, but the dream felt so real. This…this wasn’t even close to what I felt on that shoreline. It hurt…irrationally bad. The sudden weight of it all welled up inside me and threatened to spill out. Choking down a sob, I blinked back tears. I was consumed by grief from a dream . The impact of it all was astounding, and it wouldn’t be until much later that I realized the catharsis was from displaced grief of all the loss I had experienced.

My emotions felt like a vortex swirling all around me, and I was fighting to keep them under control as I stood in the middle of the gravel lot. Honestly, I probably looked like a total weirdo to any passerby. Faint footsteps and conversation came from behind me during the midst of my silent mental breakdown. The pebbles crunched as they walked, but all I could really hear was the pounding of my heart in my head.

Fine , I said to myself, inhaling deeply. Resigned to push forward, I built up the courage to knock on Cole’s door. Or…knock on the side of the boat? How do you even approach someone who lives on a boat? He doesn’t even have a front door, technically…

“Hello, doll.” Much too close, the voice as rich as bourbon made me gasp as I whirled around.

“Nathan.” The word left my lips like a plea.