Shadowlands (Shadowlands 1)

“Not at all,” Joaquin said. “Just worried.”

“Well, I’m fine,” I repeated, looking from Tristan to Joaquin and back again. Two pieces of perfection—physically, anyway—and all I could think about was getting away from them. The cross-country girls back home would probably have me checked for brain damage. “Anyway, I’d better—”

“So did you invite her yet?” Joaquin asked Tristan.

“I was just about to,” Tristan replied.

“Invite me to what?” I asked.

“Tristan and Krista are having a party tomorrow night,” Joaquin said, crossing his arms over his chest. “I think you should come.”

I felt my blush deepen. “You think I should come,” I repeated. I glanced at Tristan. “What do you think?”

He blinked, startled. “What? Oh, sure. Yes. You should definitely come. If you want to.”

Wow. So one of them expected me to come just because he thought I should and the other clearly couldn’t care less whether I showed or not.

“That’s some invitation, you guys. Thanks,” I said sarcastically. “I’ll be sure to give it a nice, long consideration.”

“Rory,” Joaquin said in a condescending tone as I turned to go.

But I didn’t stop. I jogged up the steps to the house, slamming the door behind me and leaning back against it. What was with these guys? Why couldn’t they stalk Darcy instead of me? She would have loved every minute of it.

I glanced out the window and saw Joaquin say a few words to Tristan before sauntering off. Once he was gone, Tristan looked down at the gray bag, and I felt my heart skip a beat. I’d momentarily forgotten it was there. He lifted the flap and peeked inside, his brows creasing in confusion. At least I wasn’t the only one who thought a bag full of lighthouses was odd. He looked up at my house, and I ducked back behind the wall again

.

When I glanced back out the window again, I half expected Tristan to still be standing there, but he was gone. The gray bag, however, remained hanging from the gate, taunting me. I double-checked that the door was locked and then retreated to my room. I hoped whoever had left it there would come back for it soon, but I also didn’t want to be here when they did.

The moment was nearing. The moment when he would finally have what was rightfully his. He had been so close so many times, but now, nothing would stand in his way. Once the last step in his plan was complete, there was no way she would say no to him. There was no way she would resist.

Yes. She would come to him, willingly. And perhaps, perhaps, perhaps…

Perhaps that would be the most satisfying end to this pursuit. Knowing that he had broken her, finally. That she wouldn’t fight. That her surrender would be complete.

Wednesday morning I sat at the Formica table in the kitchen, eating cornflakes out of a chipped bowl, watching the old-school phone that hung on the far wall. We’d been in Juniper Landing for four days. It hadn’t rung once.

“Okay, what is your deal?” Darcy demanded, striding into the room in her black silk pajamas and pulling out a chair diagonal from mine. She had her hair back in a sleek ponytail and had already washed her face. “Did you cast a spell on this island or something?”

“What’re you talking about?” I asked, picking up my bowl to drink the last of the milk.

Darcy watched me with a look of utter disgust and waited for me to put the bowl down again.

“Last night, Joaquin finally asked me out to some party at Tristan’s house tonight, and I was all excited until he basically hinted that I had to bring you or I couldn’t come,” she said, slouching back in her chair with her arms crossed over her spaghetti-strap top.

“Oh, that,” I said.

“You know about it already?” Darcy asked, her eyes incredulous.

“They invited me yesterday, too,” I told her.

“Unbelievable,” she said, shoving the chair back and crossing to the cabinet. “The wallflower is officially off the wall.” She grabbed a box of Froot Loops and brought it back to the table. “So would that have been when Joaquin walked up to you outside and gave you that totally intimate hug?”

I felt my skin warm. “You saw that?”

“Everyone on the block saw that,” Darcy replied, tossing a Froot Loop into her mouth. “I bet someone out there was inspired to write a blog about it. I don’t think there was one inch of your bodies that wasn’t touching.”

I shuddered. The very thought gave me the skeeves. “Darcy—”