A requested recap: It’s been nearly a month now since Emma has been living in Harbordale, having been forced to move there after hitting rock bottom back home in Toronto, Canada. Despite it being so long, it feels like her life has only spiralled out of control. Someone’s after her, having murdered someone in the process. They want her out of town, and she can’t figure out why. Maybe it’s retribution because of something her father did, or maybe they want the land that she’s inherited. Either way, she’s stubbornly stayed put. It’s not like she has a choice though. There’s nowhere else to go. Detective Jackson’s been called in to help with the case, and the entire town is on edge. She doesn’t know who to trust. Kat, one of the only friends that she’d made in the small seaside down, was found to have left an incriminating message for Emma, there was someone camping out and watching her from the lighthouse, and she doesn’t know what the hell to do with Hunter… the town sheriff who has been making her work as his maid, to pay off a debt.
——-
Emma woke up the next morning with a slight headache pinching at her temples, feeling dazed and exhausted. The hydro and gas people had been in to fix the electricity and hot water, and the police officers had taped essentially every part of her house. Adamant at feigning some semblance of bravery, she’d slept at home – not wanting to depend on anyone, or trust anyone for help. She was done with that. The fact that Kat had left the note for her had left her with a bad feeling in her gut, making her feel ashamed, regretful and embarrassed. She’d trusted her so easily, having been so desperate to make friends. She should’ve known that she’d always be an outsider here – and that it was foolish to think otherwise. She almost didn’t blame Kat for having done that. Who was she to Kat? Kat had family here, friends here and someone had offered her money to leave that note there. Apparently, Emma was Harbordale’s most hated, so why would have Kat declined the offer? Clearly, they hadn’t been real friends or anything.
Getting up, she plugged in her dead phone to the charger and took a shower for the first time in her bathroom. It had been nearly a month since she’d had hot water running through the pipes, but she’d take a small victory where she could find it. The hot water was like a salve to her soul. It was a Saturday, which meant that she had a day off from attending to Hunter’s house, and a day to sort through things.
In four days, she would have completed her end of the bargain for Hunter. She’d have scrubbed that house clean for three weeks straight, and according to the articles of that contract, the debt she owed to him would be paid off. That meant she would have her car back – brand new, with the engine and flat tire fixed. She could literally drive away from all of this.
Drive away from Harbordale.
This place had given her nothing but stress to begin with. On Tuesday, she could pack up the trunk of her car, say goodbye to the bar she was working at, say goodbye to the lighthouse, say goodbye to her father’s will, and say goodbye to Hunter. Leave this all behind. Out of sight, and out of mind.
The thought of that filled her with some uneasiness, and she didn’t know why her stomach clenched at the thought of such a departure. Fuck, if only she had her mom here to talk things through with. What would she have told her to do? There had been a piercing hole in her heart since her mother had passed away, and she’d been trying to shove whatever she could into the crevices of the crack to stop the pain from her mother’s absence. Being stubborn usually helped, since it helped her focus – distract herself from whatever pain that was pounding through her body with every heartbeat, but she was starting to feel more and more exhausted. It felt like there was no winning here.
Feeling sad, she stepped out of the shower and got ready for the day. She had a shift at the bar and she had just finished her online Etsy profile, where she was going to advertise her painting of the lighthouse online. The forecast had said it was sunny this weekend, so she could start painting the mural this weekend – the one that she’d promised the town she’d paint for the victim’s family. Hughie, the town Mayor, had given her his number, and all she had to do was text him a photo of her idea to get it approved.
All these plans that she was making, and she didn’t even know if she was staying. What was she doing here? It felt as if she was trying to control her life with thin threads that kept slipping from her fingers, giving her papercuts in the process.
Even if she left Harbordale, where would she go? She had no family left, and her only best friends weren’t in Canada.
In that moment, while she stared at herself as she blow-dried her hair, Emma realised what it was like to feel utterly and completely alone in the world.
She closed her eyes, pausing to regain some sort of serenity to help her get through the day. She needed to stop thinking long-term and take it day by day. She couldn’t afford to leave here without a plan, but if things continued the way they were going now, she couldn’t afford to stay here either.
After getting dressed, fixing her hair and putting on some light lip gloss, she picked up her phone and went to get her jacket. There were about three missed calls and two texts from Kat, but she deftly ignored them and put on her scarf, laced up her winter boots, and buttoned up her coat.
It was ten-o-clock when she stepped outside, and the sun was peeking out from behind disappearing clouds. It was -20 degrees Celsius, and -35 with wind chill. Typical. The snow crunched under her boot, her leg sinking in until the white billowy clouds of fluff reached her shin. She was about to walk to town, when the lighthouse spotted her eye.
All of this shit going on for this piece of land. Some guy had even murdered for it.
She hesitated, shivering as a chill crept into her scarf and tickled her spine. What was so important about this place? Why would someone do something so horrific to steal this land from her father’s will?
She checked her phone and approximated that she had about fifteen minutes to spare, before she seriously needed to get going in order to make her shift at the bar. Changing paths, she began to traipse through the knee-high snow towards the lighthouse, which was currently cordoned off with yellow police tape. Whoever had been watching her from the tiny little room at the top of the lighthouse would have serious balls to come back here, now that their cover had been blown.
The sound of the crashing waves grew louder the closer she walked towards the lighthouse, and she crossed her arms tightly against her chest to brace herself against that wintery sea chill. When she reached the front door, she pushed it open lightly and let herself in. It had been left unlocked and ajar since the police had been here, and since there was nothing of importance inside, they had left it that way.
She walked up the lighthouse, using her cellphone flash to light up the staircase as she made her way up the dark spiralling steps. Her breath came out in a mist, the stone walls doing nothing to keep the cold outside. A lot of the cobwebs had been broken by the police investigation, and the dust had scattered. The emptiness and darkness of the place still made her nervous, and she focused on climbing the stairwell quickly. When she reached the top, her hair fluttered in front of her face as wind rushed in through the open windows. She squinted as the sunlight blinded her for a moment, before she shielded herself against the sun. The evidence from the squatter’s stay here had been cleaned up, and all that was left was what had been here before. A large lighthouse torch, broken and rusty, stood perched in the center. The northern end of the lighthouse was completely boarded up, but she knew that behind it was glass. Dropping her purse onto the ground, she shook the boards loose and pulled the wood free, revealing the north-facing lighthouse window.
The sight that lay in front of her made her stand still.
The blue north Atlantic sea stretched out in front of her, the stillness of the water contrasting with the crashing of the waves at the cliffs below. The sky seemed to go on forever, merging with the water only at the horizon, signifying the endlessness of the sea ahead. Everywhere she looked, she saw water, aside from jutting cliffs the stretched for miles towards the east, with barren trees indicating the Nova-Scotian forest and hills. The grounds to the east were covered with snow, and despite the coldness, the water to the north was spirited, eager, and playful. The desolateness of the sea seemed to clash with the liveliness of the waves, and the energy that radiated in the Canadian air.
It hit her then.
This was why.
This was why her father had never left. This was why her mother had raised her here, and why it had hurt her mother so much to leave.
There was life in the sea, in the woods, in the seaside wind. There was comfort in the crashing of the waves against the jutting rocks, and foam that brimmed against the shore. With the pain that came with life, the earth here was here to calm you, and to remind you of the vastness of the world, and of the magic in the ocean.
It was beautiful.
The sight in front of her gave her what it had to many before her, a sense of resiliency.
She wasn’t going to run from this. Someone who would actually murder someone else for this didn’t deserve this.
Even if the whole town hated her, and wanted to drive her away from this lighthouse, she needed to protect it. It had been in her family for lord knows how long, and it had always been up to them to protect this land. The last thing she could do, for a lineage of light house wardens, was to do her part too.
xx.
Four hours later, she was filling up a pint glass with Steamwhistle (steamweezy according to the man who had just ordered it), listening to Nick, her manager, go on and on about his horrible date over the weekend.
“Here you go,” she put the pint in front of the guest, who slapped a ten and a five on the counter and shook her head to motion that he didn’t want change.
Whoa. She’d just been tipped five dollars. That was her highest tip yet. She pocketed it quickly, before he changed his mind. He’d been referring to her as Carol, and whoever Carol was, Emma was glad he thought she was her.
“She said she didn’t kiss until the wedding day,” Nick went on, cleaning a few pints at the sink. “I mean, is it wrong of me to think that’s weird?”
“Are we playing Nickelback?”
“Emma, are you listening to me?”
“We need to change this track. I can’t listen to Nickelback.”
Nick sighed, and pressed next on his phone. “Can you give me some advice, please?”
“I don’t know. Did you ask her if she was Mormon? Don’t fundamentalists wait until marriage?”
“To kiss?”
“Yeah.”
“Why is she on Tinder then?”
Emma laughed, “I don’t know, man. Sounds like you two need some better communication skills.”
“Should I ask her out again?”
“No!” Emma took over the washing, enjoying the easy afternoon. Kat had called in sick, which she was grateful for since she didn’t really want to face her anyway, and the patrons who’d come into the bar were easygoing regulars. The mechanical routineness of waitressing had taken her mind off of things, and she was actually having a not-so-bad time. The people who had come in on her first shift to make a spectacle of her waitressing had stopped coming back, bored from teasing her and being mean. Only those interested in actually drinking a relaxing pint were around.
She hadn’t planned on working a double shift, but they were short-staffed, and she could use the money. When Nick had asked, she’d said yes almost immediately. Her mind had drifted to Kat only once or twice, when she heard someone mention her name. She hadn’t asked Hunter what would happen to her. She was sure that intimidation wasn’t a crime and that leaving a note at her house wouldn’t get Kat in trouble. It was Kat’s potential involvement with the murderer that was the concern.
It was around seven p.m. when she heard him.
Her body reacted before her mind did. Her skin flushed, her heartbeat picked up, and she felt the hair on the back of her neck prickle. His voice stood out from the rest, deep and warm. She was at a table, taking an order of two cheeseburgers, and fish and chips when she heard his voice and she glanced towards the door.
He was still wearing his badge and had the holster strapped around his hip. He had thrown on a black sweatshirt over his formal police attire, which she noticed as he took off his winter jacket and hung it on coat hanger near the front. Walking in with Jackson, the two were with other officers as they found a table. She glanced at her watch. His shift had ended two hours ago, and she hadn’t seen him since yesterday. Why did her body feel like she’d missed him?
Ugh. Stupid, stupid, stupid, was the mantra running through her head as she walked over to the kitchen to drop off the order. She could feel warmth spreading in between her legs as she remembered the last time she’d seen him naked. He had had her kneeling on the floor, bent over to take her from behind.
Focus, she quickly pulled her booty shorts down a wee inch so she wasn’t so naked, and then went over to the table full of cops.
“Emma!” Jackson smiled at her warmly, his eyes crinkling into a caring gaze. “How you doing?”
“Fine,” she smiled back. “What can I get you guys?”
She took down an order of five beers (typical), ignoring Hunter’s gaze as she did so, and went back to the bar to get the drinks.
Not even a minute had passed before she felt his presence and looked up to see him leaning against the bar, his blue eyes glinting in the dim light.
“You’re ignoring me,” his beard looked scruffier than usual, which meant he hadn’t shaved this morning. She ignored the crease of his neck, where she’d kissed, and tried to forget how his arms had wrapped around her waist a few mornings ago. “I tried to call you.”
“I’ve been working since ten in ten in the morning and I can’t look at my phone,” she muttered, “If you’ve forgotten… someone else has gotten me preoccupied during the rest of the week.”
He didn’t look all too pleased, “I haven’t forgotten. And in case you’ve forgotten, I’ve told you to cut your shifts here.”
“Oh, come on,” she put two glasses under the taps, and filled them at the same time. “Are we still arguing about that?”
“You’re taking double shifts now. I told you to keep a low profile.”
“Yeah, you tell me a lot of things, and I choose not to listen to them.”
“I’m aware, and it’s aggravating.”
“I’m sorry that everyone’s let you get your way all the time, Sheriff.”
“Lest you forget, I’m your boss.”
“Trust me, I’m well aware.”
“Hm,” he furrowed his eyebrows, a crease forming at the bridge of his nose. “Speaking of which, when was the last time you did my laundry?”
“Why? Gotten your boxers dirty thinking about me?”
His lips twitched, as if hiding a smirk, “someone’s feeling confident,” he lowered his voice, “have you forgotten which one of us was begging the other to help them finish?”
Emma blushed, highly aware of the fact her other boss was only a few feet away. “Did you need something?” she changed the topic of conversation. Being fired from her only source of income was not something she wanted. “Or did you come here just to annoy me? All of your colleagues are looking, by the way.”
He didn’t seem to care, in typical Hunter fashion. “Just checking to see if you were still alive.”
“How sweet.” She drawled, trying to ignore how unassumingly charming Hunter looked in his black hoodie and jeans. All six feet, two inches of him.
He winked, “wouldn’t want my victim dead before we catch the perpetrator.”
“And who said romance was dead?”
Hunter grinned, and she couldn’t help but smile back. Ugh. It was hard to when he looked so damn pleased. “Romance? Am I wooing you now?”
She rolled her eyes. Why were they stuck in this game? Of pretending not to care yet toeing the dangerous line of flirting. Time to change the topic again. “I’m going to find my dad’s will,” she said, and handed him his frothy beer.
He raised an eyebrow. “How do you plan on doing that?”
“What did you know about my father? Literally everyone in this town knows more about him than I did. If we can retrace his steps or try to figure out where his favorite haunts were, maybe we can find where he put this will. If I can find it before this asshole murders me, the lighthouse is mine – end of story.” And then she could sell it to whoever she wanted to, make a profit, and bounce. That part she didn’t tell Hunter.
“Your father never left his house. There isn’t much to figure out there.”
“The will isn’t in the house. I’ve already searched it inside and out. And that’s probably why someone ransacked my house in the first place, to see if it was there.”
Hunter didn’t look surprised, and it hit Emma then that he had probably figured this out way before her. “I think you need to be -.”
“Emma!”
A murmur passed through the bar at the unfamiliar voice, and Hunter paused mid-sentence to turn around.
Emma’s jaw dropped open. “No way!”
“What?” Hunter, for the first time since she’d known him, looked confused.
“Emma! I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”
“Sarah,” Emma could barely contain her shock, and excitement. “Sarah?”
“Emma!”
“What’s going on?” Hunter asked gruffly, clearly not enjoying this.
“It’s Sarah,” Emma felt like she could cry. “We grew up together,” was all she said before she put down the glasses that she was filling and ran around the counter. “How did you find me here?”
“Oh, it’s a long story,” was all Sarah said before the two leapt into each other’s arms for a hug. “Jesus, Em – it’s fucking cold here. Who voluntarily chooses to live here?!”
Emma laughed, “tell me about it.”
xx.
A/N: Thank you, thank you – thank you to everyone who wrote in to my note last week. I can’t express my gratitude. I’m so lucky to have met such wonderful people online. It has been uplifting coming back to Fictionpress, and your messages have filled me with many warm fuzzies, and inspiration to keep writing this. I know this chapter is approximately an hour past the deadline, but I reckon better late than never! Do let me know if there are any questions, comments, or reviews on the chapter and I can address them. Love each and every one of you guys. As an aside, I am uploading a chapter weekly on my other story Her Dark Court (also on FP) and will be uploading a new story shortly on my FP profile soon as well. Till next Sunday~