Page 14

“Fuck.” I should have been at the bakery hours ago.

What the fuck happened to me last night that had me sleeping through my alarm this morning?

Rolling onto my front, I bury my head in the pillow and try to recall the last twenty-four hours.

My car wouldn’t start so Kiernan drove me to the bakery, but we were late to open. That property developer came in for the third day in a row and I ended up yelling at him in front of customers. I gave them all freebies for the trouble, then spent the rest of the shift hiding in the kitchen. Louis gave me a lift home before telling me my car’s engine was on the way out. An expense I could do without. Jenna, the vet, came out to check on one of the ewes that is limping and kindly looked over the cat, who I guess is now mine.

As the sun began to set, I opened my old laptop and settled as many outstanding bills as I could afford, but couldn’t bring myself to deal with the plethora of emails sitting waiting for me. My stomach ached with hunger, but there was no fresh food in the fridge because I keep forgetting to pick up groceries, so I gave the cat – Bagel – the last tin of tuna from the pantry and then feasted on a bottle of whiskey while I sat on the rocks beneath the lighthouse. I remember feeling an overwhelming sense of loneliness, twined with anger.

After that, it’s all…blank.

I guess that’s what you get for drinking on an empty stomach.

“Did you go swimming last night?” Kiernan asks, prompting me to turn in his direction. He’s pointing to a pile of wet, sandy clothing on my bedroom floor.

I shake my head, my cheek still pressed to the bed. “I don’t think so.”

Squeezing my eyes closed, I replay my day over again. Car. Bakery. Bills. Whiskey. Rocks. Water. Neon green eyes. Grey fur. Glowing skin. Sharp teeth. Strong arms pulling me closer, carrying me to bed. Sniffing my neck. Removing my sweats.

I shoot up, sitting back on my knees, nausea washing over me as I suck in a deep breath and look down at what I’m wearing.

Nothing but my black boxers.

“No, no, no.” I open my hand and look at the scar that stretches across my palm. It’s faded since the accident, but it’s still there – a pinkish mark on my fair skin. “It was all a dream,” I say, breathing through the growing unease in my stomach.

“What was?” Kiernan asks.

I lick my dry lips. “Nothing. I…um…I need to shower.”

Stumbling to my feet, I grimace when I feel the sand on my soles. I never walk around without socks because I cannot cope with the texture of dirt on wooden floors. I rub my foot against my leg to dislodge the dust, but it’s no use.

“I’ll make tea,” Kiernan says as he gets up. He gives me a concerned look over his shoulder before he walks out of the room. On my tiptoes, so I don’t feel the wood beneath my feet, I head to the bathroom, frowning at the state of myself in the mirror.

My brown hair is sticking out at all angles, and when I reach up to touch it, it’s tacky from seawater. There’s a faint sheen of sweat on my skin, my eyes are bloodshot, and there’s a small graze on my collarbone.

“What did you do?” I ask my reflection, then dip my head, turning on the tap and cupping my hands beneath the water. I bring it up to my mouth and drink greedily.

It’s then that my eyes land on a dark shadow swarming behind me. The lights are on and it’s daylight, but in the mirror, I can clearly see it. A scream gets lodged in my throat, but I don’t move as the shadow inches closer, swirls above my head and then down to my feet.

“It’s not real. It’s not real,” I chant, closing my eyes and pressing my hands against the basin. Slowly, I turn around and when I open them again, there’s nothing there. I poke my head out of the bathroom door and into the hallway. Kiernan is in the kitchen, singing loudly, but there’s no sign of any shadows. I sniff the air in case something is burning and the darkness I saw was actually smoke, but there’s no hint of anything but a faint aroma of damp earth.

Closing the bathroom door, I turn and look out of the closed window. There’s nothing unusual going on outside either. The sky is blue, the sun is shining and there’s not a single grey cloud. Everything is still in the lighthouse and the only vehicles outside are mine and Kiernan’s cars.

I rub at my eyes. I don’t know what’s been going on with me lately, but it needs to stop. Starting with no more nights with a bottle of whiskey. I’ve never been a big drinker, but I’ve liked the numbness it’s been bringing me since the accident. The way it brings out all these emotions without forcing me to actually face them. I know it’s not the healthiest way to deal with my grief, but no one gave me a fucking manual on what to do when you lose the man you’ve looked up to for years and now you’re so fucking alone it hurts, so I’m doing the best that I can. It would be really nice if the world could cut me some fucking slack right about now.

Turning on the shower, I strip off my boxers, then grit my teeth against the cold spray. The boiler engineer can’t come over until later in the month, so I’m left with these ice showers until then.

Once I’m clean and dry, I throw on a soft black shirt, some well-worn jeans and a pair of socks, then head downstairs where I find Kiernan in the kitchen.

He’s frying bacon and there’s two steaming mugs of tea on the counter next to him.

“Figured since we’re late opening the bakery, we may as well eat before we head in. Unless you plan to keep it closed today?”

I pull out a stool and slide into it, then reach for a mug of tea.

“No, we’ll open for the after lunch crowd.” The tea is sweet, just the way I like it, and I take a few more sips, my hands wrapped around the warm ceramic. “Thank you for picking up groceries.” There’s a loaf of bread, and a packet of apples on the counter on his other side.

Kiernan looks up from frying the bacon, a frown spreading across his forehead.