Rogue Wave Isabel Jolie (books for 20 year olds .TXT) 📖

would have locked it, but I wasn’t sure where I’d stashed my key. I drove the guy back to the marina, ignoring his feedback on the houses we passed. His commentary on island life competed with the distant crash of waves and the occasional seagull cry.

The moment the ferry he boarded departed, I pulled out my phone, the new one I got when I returned home. And I called Gabe.

Chapter 16

Luna

“Poppy!” I yelled into her apartment as her screen door slammed shut with a loud bang behind me.

“What?” Tired, swollen eyes looked up from her oversized ceramic coffee mug.

“I need you to come with me. Get dressed. Hurry.”

“Come where?” she asked as she held her coffee mid-air.

“To Tate’s. There’s a guy at his house. I have a bad feeling about this. Come on.” I stepped up to her chair and grabbed her wrist, tugging on her so she’d get moving.

“What guy?” she asked as she stood slowly, like someone who was injured.

“What’s wrong with you?”

“I drank too much last night.”

“Where’d you go?”

“Here.”

“You drank too much alone?” That didn’t seem like Poppy. Something told me I needed to dig deeper, but my nerves prevented me from doing so. Poppy didn’t answer my question, anyway. She merely tightened the silk kimono around her breasts and lumbered around the table toward the stairs.

“What exactly are we stopping by to see?” she asked.

“A scary-looking guy stopped by Tate’s this morning. Made me leave. Told me he wasn’t a friend. Something isn’t right. I just want to make sure he’s okay.”

“And why do you need me?”

“Because if something bad is happening, you can go get help. Safety in numbers.” She looked at me like I was a cracked shell. “Come on. Get dressed.”

“I’ll come, but I’m still waking up. And I fail to see how my presence will make things safer. Did the guy look like he was going to beat him up?”

“Maybe. I don’t know. There was all kinds of bad juju.”

She dropped a sundress over her head. “Juju? You mean bad vibes?”

“Yes. Come on.”

She didn’t speak again until she planted her butt on my golf cart seat. “Tell me about this guy. Is he like a Gabe?”

“No. Nothing like Gabe,” I answered, my foot flattened on the accelerator. “Definitely not someone from the island. Scary looking guy. Lots of scars, piercings, and a mean look. It could be nothing, but I’d just feel better if we stopped by and checked.”

“If you’re really nervous, should we get someone else to come with us? Like the police? Or a guy?”

“I thought about the police, but that would just be weird. I mean, if we went there and I told them I had bad vibes, they probably wouldn’t take me seriously. It’s not like he’s broken any laws.” My gut tightened and roiled, and my knee bounced like I’d had a double espresso.

“Yeah, bad things don’t happen here. The highlight of their day is stopping people on golf carts who don’t stop for stop signs. They probably wouldn’t take you seriously.”

An awkward pause followed. It didn’t matter if she didn’t take this seriously. At least I had someone with me. Tate said the guy was not a friend—I am not overreacting.

“What are we doing, exactly? Peering in windows or knocking on the door?”

“I think peering in the windows to start. Then maybe saying we stopped by to see if he wanted to go surfing?”

“Neither of us are in bathing suits.”

“You’re right. That doesn’t work.”

A group of men stood in front of one of the new homes under construction, and as we grew closer, I recognized Tony.

“Do you really think we should get additional help?” I asked Poppy. I jerked my head in the direction of the men. “I can ask Tony to join us.”

“This is your parade. I’m along for the ride.”

Tony saw us and waved. I took it as my opportunity and stopped. He squashed a cigarette into the ground.

“Hey, Luna. Poppy.”

“Tony, can I ask you a quick favor?”

“Sure. What’s up?”

“A stranger stopped by Tate’s this morning, and I don’t trust him. I want to make sure everything’s okay.”

A skeevy smile spread across Tony’s face as he checked the time on his wrist. “What were you doing over there so early? You two a thing?”

“Hey, I didn’t even think to ask about that,” Poppy said as she rubbed her face.

“Yes. We’re seeing each other. But, Tony, this guy who stopped by. He was glaring at Tate. Tate told me he wasn’t a friend and to leave without speaking to him.”

“What’d the guy look like?”

“Black, shiny, almost oily hair. Dark skin. Beady black eyes. Scars on his arms, fingers. He’s definitely not from around here.”

“Black guy?” Tony asked.

“No. Straight hair.”

“Some of them straighten their hair, you know.”

“His skin was more olive-toned, just dark.”

“Like Chinese?”

“I don’t know. Asian of some sort. What does his heritage matter, anyway?” Stopping to ask Tony had bad idea written all over it, but before I could tell him to never mind, he climbed into the back row and tapped the back of my seat.

“Let’s go. I got about twenty minutes before I’m supposed to clock in.”

When I arrived at Tate’s cottage, I aimed for quiet, but the wheels grinding rocks and pebbles announced our arrival to anyone listening. I flipped the key to off and set the brake on park.

No sounds came from the cottage. No lights were visible.

I put my finger to my lips for the universal hush, and Tony smirked. Exasperated, I looked to Poppy, only to find she too looked like she was about to break out laughing.

“Stay here,” I hissed. At least I had back up.

I tiptoed around to the side of the cottage and discovered I couldn’t see in the windows. I couldn’t hear any shouting. The calming sound of the waves and the gentle breeze combined with the clear blue sky overhead made me feel foolish. Maybe I had dramatized the whole scene in my head. Maybe Tate simply didn’t want to