The Mayfair Moon (The Darkwoods Trilogy 1)

I thought to myself about how he must be easily entertained. And also to myself, I laughed. I couldn’t imagine how anything about my average, dull life would be conversation-worthy. Sadly, the most exciting thing in my life was my masochistic mother and her idiot husband and that wasn’t a topic I cared to bring up.

“Well,” I began, “I was born in Atlanta, Georgia—moved to Athens when I was about five and lived there since until recently.”

“Why did you move?” He sipped his coffee once more, but never took his eyes off me even to set the mug down.

I didn’t want to lie to him. It was different than with friends at school who I had just met and didn’t feel comfortable telling the truth to. With Isaac, I felt like I could tell him anything. I didn’t want talk about anything negative, but more than that, I wanted to be truthful.

I hesitated at first; taking one last sip of my drink before deciding that if I drank anymore I might feel sick.

“Bad home environment, I guess.” I shrugged. “My mom married a guy who thinks she’s a punching bag when he gets too drunk.”

He frowned and I could detect a hidden spark of anger behind his eyes.

“Did he beat you?” he said.

I felt like he was secretly fishing for answers now that he would surely file away for later when he could retaliate.

“No,” I admitted. “He pushed Alex and me around some several years ago, but he never actually hit either of us.”

I saw his jaw tighten subtly and could tell right away that the next sip of coffee was merely to conceal his expression.

“Push around, hit, verbal abuse,” he said, “it’s all the same.”

“I guess so,” I said, “but my mom needed me and I personally wasn’t affected by any of it much.”

I suppose that wasn’t entirely the truth; I wouldn’t be the already grown up seventeen-year-old that I was, who had never been into relationships much, otherwise.

“Let’s see,” I went on, looking upward at the orange-glowing light above our table, “what makes me tick?”

He grinned then, waiting readily.

“Can’t stand reality TV,” I said. “And when someone uses my bar of soap—it’s gross to think you’re washing yourself with something someone else has rubbed all over their private parts.” I visibly shuddered and noticed Isaac quietly laughing at me. “Hmmm,” I contemplated; surprised it was this difficult to remember these things. “Oh! Litterbugs. And smokers who flick their ashes out the car window—got some in my mouth once when mom was stopped at a red light. You think my soap phobia is funny; should’ve seen me flailing around in the front seat trying to spit the ashes out. The people in the car next to us probably thought I was retarded.”

Isaac laughed. “I think I would’ve been thoroughly amused.”

I smiled back at him.

“What about travel?” he said. “Other than Maine, have you ever been anywhere outside of Georgia?”

I nodded. “Went on a field trip my freshman year to Gulf Shores, Alabama. Dug for diamonds in Arkansas once.” I thought about it further until I realized I had not really seen much outside of Georgia. “I guess that’s it.”

“Did you find any?” he said.

“Find what?” And then I realized. “Oh, diamonds? No, I found a bunch of rocks that I thought were diamonds until the park employees looked them over and shattered my dreams.” I laughed and took another drink regardless of the caffeine overload.

“What about you?” I said. “Surely you’re more interesting than I am.”

“I doubt that,” he said with a soft smile. I knew he meant that out of context and once again he managed to make me blush.

“Come on,” I said. “Indulge me.”

He smiled and breathed in deeply. “I love the smell of rain and the sound of silence,” he said. “Nature. The ocean. The Universe.”

I laughed. “You and my Uncle Carl would definitely get along.” I let him go on.

“I’ve travelled a lot,” he said, “but I’d really like to get in one place and stay there.”

I pulled forward some, folding my hands on the table out in front of me. I thought back to the night at The Cove, remembering what that man said about the Mayfair’s travel expeditions.

“You must’ve been everywhere,” I said. “Kind of hard to choose a favorite place among so many, I bet.”

“No,” he said simply. “Without thinking about it, I can say that Maine beats them all.” His smile was warm and unquestionable.

A car pulled into the tiny parking lot then and Isaac turned his attention immediately to it. Oddly, he seemed to be smelling of the air as he inhaled a deep, abrasive breath. He glared out the frost-covered window next to us, watching the car with a curious intensity.

“Someone you know?”

“Yes, and I think we should leave.”

He didn’t wait for me to say anything in response, but stood from the booth seat, slipped on his coat and took me by the hand.

“Who is it?” I said as he walked me to the door.

It seemed he never took his eyes off the parking lot. The car was still running, its headlights shining brightly through the dimly lit lot. I heard the engine rev when Isaac opened the glass doors and we stepped outside.

“Bad company,” Isaac answered, practically dragging me to his car. “Looks like your sister is never going to give up.”

I swung my head around to see into the car, but the windows were tinted too dark and I could see nothing.

Isaac urged me into the passenger’s seat and shut the door behind me.

“Alex is in that car?”

“Don’t get any ideas,” he said. “She’s not your sister anymore.”

Isaac threw the car into gear and we sped away. The car didn’t follow, which surprised me. I kept looking back over the seat and through the frosted window, but all I saw was blackness.

“Why didn’t they follow?”

“No need to,” he said, “They already know where to find you. This is just their way of warning me.”

I didn’t have to ask for Isaac to know that I needed more answers.

“Your sister has an agenda,” he said, “one the Vargas family won’t let her forget.” He looked over at me harshly. “What did she say to you the night at The Cove? I need to know everything.”

I just wished he would keep his eyes on the road. It seemed they were on me a little too much and I wondered how he could continue to drive without swerving once. His harsh stare penetrated me and made me uncomfortable.

Telling Isaac ‘everything’ was out of the question; at least in this particular instance. I couldn’t bring myself to put him or Alex in anymore conflict. Bringing up the part about them threatening my life was a seriously bad idea. There was no telling what he might do.

“Alex just wants me to stop hanging around you and Zia.”

“She said more than that, I know.”

“How do you know?” I said. “Are you calling me a liar?” I was a liar, but that was beside the point. I pretended to be slightly offended, but was impressed by his profound ability to read right through me.

“Adria,” he said softening his eyes, “the Vargas family wouldn’t go through so much trouble if it were that simple.” He finally put his eyes on the road for a longer time, though I doubted he really saw it much. “And Viktor wouldn’t get involved if it was just a simple sisterly disagreement.”

“Viktor?”

“He’s their leader...well, their father, the one you saw at The Cove,” Isaac said, “but don’t change the subject.”

“Okay,” I went on, “the only other thing she said was that she wanted me to move out and live with her and those jerks. She threatened me and tried to guilt-trip me, but that was all, I swear.”

I could tell right away that Isaac didn’t believe me, but he didn’t pressure me for anymore answers.

“Oh no!” I said, noticing the time in blue numbers on the dashboard. “Beverlee is gonna freak! It’s so late.” I reached in my coat for my cell phone, but realized I had left it at home, which explained why I had not received a call from Beverlee long ago.

“I’ll take you home now,” said Isaac.

I hated how focused and apprehensive he had become. His interest in me drained by the turn of events and our time together, cut short.

Isaac dropped me off at home and insisted on walking me to the door. “You shouldn’t be out at night by yourself,” he said. It wasn’t necessarily a decent gesture as it was a concerned one.

“I think I can manage the distance between your car and the front porch,” I said, grinning.

He still went along, finding nothing funny about it.

“Remember what I said about calling me if your sister comes here.”

“Yes, I remember.”

Finally, Isaac loosened up some and relaxed the serious expression in his eyes. He reached out and brushed my cheek with his fingertips. “But that doesn’t have to be the only reason you call me,” he said. “You know that too, right?”

I could feel the blush in my cheeks hot like fire.

The front door opened and Uncle Carl and Beverlee stepped out together; light from the living room spilled out onto the porch

Isaac dropped his hand to his side.

“Sorry I’m so late,” I said smiling.

Isaac was very charming and much less intimidated by my Aunt and Uncle than I thought he would be. He reached out to shake Uncle Carl’s hand and he hesitantly accepted. He seemed suspicious of Isaac and against the gesture entirely, but his hand had a customary mind of its own.

Isaac nodded and smiled at Beverlee.

“Damien’s Jeep was having some trouble,” said Isaac, “and they were waiting for me to get back so I could give Adria a ride home.”

Uncle Carl and Beverlee looked over at me simultaneously.

“Yeah, and I forgot my cell, or I would’ve called.”

“You couldn’t call from their house?” said Beverlee.

I hadn’t thought of that, but apparently Isaac had. On the other hand, maybe he was just good at lying—not a good trait, but then again, I guess it is in necessary situations.

“They were broke down about two miles from our house,” Isaac said. “I saw them as I drove past on my way home.”

“Really sorry, Aunt Bev, Uncle Carl. Didn’t mean to worry you.”

They lightened up then and Beverlee urged me inside.

Uncle Carl reached into his wallet and took out a twenty. “Some gas money for bringing her home. We appreciate it.”

Isaac respectfully waved the money away. “No, but thanks,” he said. “It really wasn’t out of my way. I’m heading to pick up one of my sisters not far from here.”

I think that was a lie, too.

“Alright then,” said Uncle Carl.

It was obvious Uncle Carl and Beverlee had their doubts about leaving Isaac and me together alone on the porch, and so that didn’t happen. There was a split second when all four of us stood silent, until Isaac knew it was time for him to leave. He stepped off the porch. “Have a good night, Adria. I’ll tell Zia you wanted her to call you in the morning.”