I wrapped myself in a blanket and sat in front of the window. "What are we doing today?" I knew Ethan and Owen had something planned. Maybe all I had to do was ask and they would reveal it.
"Don't know yet." Owen tapped his chin. "What about you?"
"Me?" I poked the center of my chest and simultaneously worsened the dull ache there. "I want to know how you got here all the way from Virginia."
"Oh." Owen paused, taking a step back from Ethan who continued to stare at the floor. I must have caught Owen off guard because he seemed surprised by the question. "I drove here. My car is at the food and bait shop in the tourist area."
"Where's all your stuff?" I turned in my seat to better examine his facial expressions and body language. "Why didn't you bring anything with you?"
"The idea was I'd find my place first, then go back and get what I needed." He scratched his temple as his eyes darted from me to Ethan and back to me again. "It's only a two or three-hour hike from here, depending on how fast you move and if you know where you're going."
I narrowed my eyes, studying him, wishing I had a crystal ball to unveil whether he was telling the truth or not. "What did you leave at your car?"
"Lots of stuff." He shrugged. "Food, tools, bait, fishing poles, clothes ..."
"How many fishing poles?"
"Just one." He scratched his temple again.
"Then why did you say poles?" I cocked my head at the confused expression on his face.
"Oh, you mean ... because I made it plural?" He chuckled nervously. "I forgot, I just brought one. And actually, me and Ethan have an announcement to make. Well, more like a surprise."
Was he attempting to change the subject?
"A surprise?" I cringed and swiveled in my seat to glance at Ethan. "Is that right?"
Ethan finally looked up but didn't acknowledge my expression.
"We were thinking about going to the car to bring all that stuff back here with us." Owen nodded, eyes locked on Ethan. "Weren't we?"
"Well ..." Ethan hesitated.
"Weren't we?" Owen nudged, still nodding.
"Yeah." Ethan mimicked Owen and bobbed his head.
"That's actually what we were just talking about." Owen threw his thumb back over his shoulder. "It'll only take two to three hours. We should be back before nightfall."
Tiny hairs tickled the back of my neck as they stood up. "When were you wanting to leave?"
Owen glanced to the window. "Uh ... now."
I jumped to my feet. "We haven't stepped foot past that row of trees for four years. We can't leave now."
Owen picked at his fingernail and nodded. "Not we. Just me and Ethan."
"Ethan?!" I gasped, and my eyes felt as if they would pop from my skull. "You're leaving me here by myself?"
Owen shrugged and shoved his hands in his pant pockets. "We'll be quicker without you. Plus, we need someone to keep an eye on the place."
"What if someone comes while you're gone, Ethan?" I raised my voice in his direction. "What am I gonna do if someone comes and you're not here?"
"No one will come." Owen chuckled, laughing as if my concerns were ridiculous. He must've forgotten how possible it was. After all, he showed up. "We'll make it quick. Promise."
"I'm talking to Ethan!" I stomped the floor once to get Ethan's attention.
"Damn it, Allison ..." Ethan stood and glared, eyebrows low and lips taut. "We won't be long. Alright?"
"What?!" I reached out to squeeze his shoulder and convince myself I was indeed talking to my beloved brother and not some twisted apparition of him. "You would leave me?" I couldn't prevent my voice from quivering from the shock that pained me.
"Allison ... listen." His voice was calm and soothing, and his expression softened. "Just trust me. Okay. I'm not going to be away for long."
"You never left me." Anger was no longer fueling me, but the heartbreak that seeped in was too intense to ignore. "You said you'll never leave me, Ethan."
He dropped his head on my shoulder and pulled me in for a warm embrace. While we held each other, I fought to hold back my tears. He was really going to do it. He was going to break the promise he vowed to never break.
He lifted his head to look down into my blurry, watery eyes. "Everything will be alright." His lips met my forehead and remained there for so long I imagined him transferring courage and love to my soul through the kiss. A steady stream of warmth calmed me enough to not protest as they gathered their warm jackets and stepped out the door.
I wanted to call out, to demand him to stay, but a part of me feared that if I begged too much he'd want to leave and never return.
I watched as they strode passed the lake, beyond the row of trees at the far end of it, and out of sight. I closed the door, tied the lock, and sat in the chair before the window. I blinked to prevent tears from falling over my eyelids.
I was sure their reason for leaving had something to do with it being a "guy thing," but being a guy was no longer a valid excuse.
Unlike Ethan, I knew for a fact I didn't trust Owen, especially after eavesdropping on their conversation earlier.
They were probably trying to get away to have another private kissing session. Perhaps they would engage in the much anticipated third kiss, for all I knew. Perhaps they would engage in something much more intimate.
Shame swamped me as I relived the sensation of Owen's slick tongue gliding over mine and wondering how that same muscle would feel on other parts of my body. Anger rose to my throat in the form of prickly heat when the thought crossed my mind that Ethan would probably know the feeling soon if he hadn't already.
How dare Owen come into our lives and awaken these strange, intense feelings we never knew existed? What kind of devil would feel so good against my body and in my mouth, yet make me doubt and question his every word and action?
Just thinking about him made me melt into ignorance.
I hated every single part of it.
Because of Owen, I was left to fight back mixed emotions and tears. I absolutely hated the feeling.
Time would be best spent keeping myself occupied and my mind off of Owen and what heavenly bliss he might be showering onto Ethan. I grit my teeth at the thought and cleaned up around the place a little.
While organizing the bookcase, I put aside the rusted hatchet that lay on top of Ethan's notebook. Curious to see his latest drawings, I opened the cover. Whenever I asked to see his progress he wouldn't allow it, but he wasn't here to stop me now.
I sat down near the window and cradled the notebook in my lap. As I flipped the pages, beautiful images of me covered the sheets. I was in awe of how gorgeous I was portrayed. The sketches exhibited sensual lips, gorgeous hair, and an even complexion. Every line and circle was so elegant and alluring.
There were also pictures of me dancing with the faceless Ethan in my arms. It became easy to recognize Ethan's self-portraits by the distinctive flowing dark hair. The drawings reminded me of the images that grazed the covers of romance novels, adoring in nature as the hero's arms enveloped the heroine's body, holding her tight and pulling her close.
I turned more pages and came across drawings of Owen. Each one suggested that Ethan saw beauty in Owen's features, especially in his lips and eyes, which he had embellished by putting extra attention into the details. Owen's eyes were lighter and more reflective than his hair in most of the drawings. His lips were full, smooth, and forever held a flirtatious grin.
Did Owen know Ethan enjoyed drawing pictures of him?
The more I gazed at the drawings, the more I understood why Ethan was drawn to Owen. It wasn't difficult to see how handsome and enthralling he was, and it didn't require being an artist to see it. Owen had the magnetism that could entrance a person with just a look. I understood Ethan's attraction to him because the people in my imagination were just as captivating.
Even though I hated his grin, and it looked sinister at times, his genuine smile was amazing.
Was his physical appearance his magic tool to "make girls agree to anything"?
I scoffed, feeling like an idiot because I fell for his tricks. Had he worked his magic on me through his sensual touch? Had Ethan been mesmerized and influenced by Owen's good looks and promises to "make him feel Heaven"?
With our lack of companionship beyond each other, Ethan and I yearned to meet a person like Owen. An intriguing knight with a heart of gold. My goal had been to ensure we met someone like him every day on our frozen stage. But now that we've met him, and he's slowly tightening his pull on Ethan, I no longer enjoyed his company.
No amount of physical attraction could ever make me trust Owen. He may have the looks of a knight but lacked the heart of gold.
Nevertheless, Ethan was no longer a lonely, quiet young man, reading his bible and waiting for a fictitious princess to love him.
Actually, he hadn't read that bible for some time.
I stood and went to the bookcase in search of the holy book. When found, I flipped through the pages until a few scribbles caught my eye. Some of the words and paragraphs were scrawled over with black ink, while some pages had drawings of what looked like me with the face scratched out.
An empty, hollow pit formed in my gut.
Why would he draw me then scribble out my face?
My knees buckled beneath me, so I sat on the edge of the bed with the bible still in hand. As I continued to turn pages, the doodles of me changed to several images of Ethan and Owen locked in a kiss.
An unsettling sense of dread hit me hard. The same feeling rushed me when I had eaten a fish that was floating in the river instead of swimming in it. I was sick in bed that entire day. I had been foolish and naïve, thinking that the water was cold enough to keep the fish fresh. I learned my lesson from that experience. And seeing the drawings in Ethan's bible warned me not to be that foolish and trusting to what was going on with Ethan and Owen.
If Ethan had deliberately scribbled out my face and swapped it with pictures of Owen, did that mean he wanted to be rid of me and preferred Owen in my place?
As much as I had enjoyed harboring that secret of me and Owen's kiss, I've always hated secrets. It hurt me that Ethan would have some of his own.
Secrets destroyed our childhood. Living in a dump with a drunk as a father and trying to keep that information a secret from others was grueling. He'd often warn us to keep our mouths shut or threaten that we'd get it worse. Trying to hide bruises and injuries had been punishment enough for us as children.
Secrets felt worse than any beating from Mr. Bryson.
But now I was forced to harbor yet a few more. They could never find out that I knew they were kissing, that I had discovered the unnerving drawings, or that Owen was not at all what he seemed.
I returned to the chair by the window and watched the lake while praying for their arrival. No matter the scribbled-out faces or the way Ethan appeared to constantly avoid me, I believed him when he said he would be back.
I never been surer of any promise, because his words had been engraved on my heart through his kiss.
Uh oh. How would you feel if after four years of consistency, suddenly everything begins to change? Stay tuned for more shocking surprises ahead.