Chapter 2

This was the better option.

Kira drops her bags down onto the bed and sits gingerly at the end of the mattress. Checking in to the motel was simple, and they took her credit card despite her sudden concern that the town might operate on a cash basis.

For a minute she was sure the man behind the desk was looking at her strangely, but she shook off her own anxiety, reminded herself that she was very much in her own head right now, and by the time she reached the room she was feeling better.

She flops back and eyes the ceiling. The motel isn’t modern, but it isn’t bowing under the strain of its age either.

A spider has made a home around the light-fitting. Few people must visit the town.

A small restaurant adjoins the inn. That must be where they make their money sitting, because she imagines these rooms sitting empty for most of the year.

Maybe during hunting seasons some people might visit to make use of the woods, but the lack of information about the town online doesn’t lend itself to a tourist trade.

Kira’s stomach rumbles, and she feels the first pang of hunger through her gut. It has been a long time since she last ate.

She unpacks her two bags first, opening one of the drawers in the heavy wood dresser opposite the bed to lay out her clothes.

A small religious book was pushed into the back of the drawer. Kira ignores it and folds her shirt before hanging her dress over the doorframe. It’s the same dress that she wore to her mother’s funeral three years ago.

If she closes her eyes, she can still remember how the wind whipped her face at the graveside that winter.

She took nothing but her phone and her wallet down to the restaurant.

When she steps inside, she finds that it’s less of a restaurant and more of a dining hall. There seems to be no waiting staff, and no assigned tables, but rather three long benches around which small groups of people sit, talking very loudly.

As expected, everyone knows each other. They drift from group to lean over and join the conversation. Feeling more uncomfortable than ever, Kira takes a seat at the end of one of the long tables and fiddles with her rings.

“Kira Wilder?”

She whips around, swallowing down a spark of anxiety as she meets the eyes of another stranger. Everyone here will be a stranger.

Yet she hardly seems like a stranger to them. “Yes, that’s me.”

The woman surveys her. In the city, no one would ever look at another person so thoroughly.

They cast their eyes down after the most fleeting glance. She analyzes her, takes her in from her straight hair to her smart shoes.

“Let’s get you something to eat. You’ll never taste a better spicy beef stew than you will here today – it’ll warm you up dear. Don’t you feel winter is coming early this year?”

Kira doesn’t know what to say. In the city, the seasons blur into one. No one is ever outside long enough to notice the extremes of the weather, too focussed on reaching their next destination.

This second half of the year has not felt so dissimilar to the first, except she notices the colder breeze in the evenings.

“I suppose it has,” she says out of politeness.

“I’d love to try the stew.”

She smiles. Her hair is just beginning to gray at her temples, exposed as it’s pulled up into a loose bun behind her.

“We’re all so sorry for the loss of your father,” she says.

Kira doesn’t know if the stream of condolences is easier or harder to tolerate than it was after her mother died.

There is no comfortable way to mention the disappearance of someone’s parent; finding the right thing to say is awkward, and finding the right response is even worse.

Kira thinks she’d prefer it if no one mentioned it at all. That would save everyone pain.

“Thank you. I know he held this town close to his heart even after so many years away.”

There is a reason that Kira is training as a lawyer. The profession suits her. She has always been an excellent speaker.

She observes people and surroundings and makes quick judgments.

Moreover, she knows how to lie. Her father didn’t mention this place for years before his death.

Everything that Kira knows about it is recalled from her childhood. But she knows what people want to hear.

“If you need anything at all, you come and find me,” she says.

“Just ask for Mrs Parker. I spend my life in these kitchens.”

“Thank you, Mrs Parker. Where should I pay for the meal?”

She laughs and reaches out to squeeze her shoulder. It takes all of her restraint to stop herself from flinching.

“Don’t be silly, Kira. You don’t have to pay for anything here.”

The only way to occupy herself while she waits is flicking through her phone, but Kira realizes quickly that the connection out in this town is poor, and she isn’t going to ask anyone for the password to thr Wi-Fi.

She scans through her recent messages to Will and the emails that she has already downloaded.

When she runs out of things to look at there, she flits through her gallery to remind herself that the city is only a car-ride away.

Her small apartment, her college, her everyday haunts from the coffee shop on the corner to the bar where she meets her friends.

She’s settling into a self-imposed familiarity when a man drops onto the bench opposite her, and she jumps, dropping the phone to the table.

“You must be Kira,” the deep voice says.

“Does everyone here know who I am?” Kira says before she can stop herself.

The stranger is her age, the youngest person she’s seen yet in this town, with bleached blond hair, and she instantly regrets snapping at him.

He has a friendly face, and the floppy hairstyle suggests that he follows the trends of the city. Even after Kira was so quick to react, he’s smiling.

“Well, we don’t get many visitors. And news travels fast. I’m Noel , Noel Parker. You just met my mom.”

Now that he says it, Kira can see the resemblance. They have the same gentle eyes and soft features.

“I’m sorry if I sounded rude,” says Kira. “It’s been a long day.”

“Oh I understand!” Noel waves his hands to indicate that it is already forgotten.

“I can’t even imagine. You should know that the whole town will be here to support you. We will all come tomorrow.”

Why anyone Noel’s age, who surely wouldn’t have known his father, wants to drop by the funeral Kira doesn’t know.

She had been hoping that the most she would have to deal with would be a couple of her father’s old school friends.

Instead, this small town has lived up to her worst expectations of such places, and seems to move as one unit, like a school of fish.

“Eat up,” says Mrs Parker, when she returns with three dishes balanced on her arms.

“You look skinny."

“Mom, don’t tell her she’s skinny, it’s rude!” Noel protests.

Not offended, Kira thanks her and arranges the bowls in front of her.

She has always been slender, but for a while in the city, she filled out with some hours at the gym and plenty of Will’s cooking at their shared apartment.

Only since the news started filtering back to her of her father’s illness – which he never would have told her himself – did the weight start to drop off her again, and she knows the stress has left her drawn. Her cheekbones stick out.

“No one here has any boundaries,” says Noel, glaring at his mother when she walks away. “Just a warning.

“It’s fine,” she laughs. “I’m not staying long.”

Noel ignores that. “So tell me about you. What’s it like being a city girl?”

Taken aback by the directness, Kira takes a second to answer. “I’m studying law at grad school.”

“Law? Wow.”

Kira grimaces. “If I’m honest, I haven’t been keeping up with my work these last few months as well as I usually do.

"I started law because I didn’t want to be a doctor and the way my family was growing up, those were the options. I’m good at it, but I don’t know if it’s what I want to spend the rest of my life doing. I’m sorry,” she says again, shaking her head.

“I don’t know why I just said all that. I’m tired. Did you study? I’m sure there isn’t a college here.”

“No college here,” laughs Noel with a nod, “but I studied at Fairview. I moved home once I graduated. Everyone who was born here comes back eventually.”

“Even in a box.”

The blunt statement seemed to make Noel lose his grasp on the conversation for a moment.

“I I suppose.”

Kira is saved from having to say more by the arrival of a group of guys, all of whom seem to know him. They cross to their bench immediately and Kira occupies herself with eating while Noel leans back from his seat to accept their loud greetings.

The food is as good as promised, though the chili is amped up so far that her whole mouth burns. Warm her up? It makes her forehead sweat. The tender skin under her eyes is stinging.

“This is Kira Wilder,” says Noel.

“You know, the wilder’s daughter.” She had to look up.

There are three guys around him, too many for Kira to examine in detail without staring, though staring must be normal in this town because they are all watching her shamelessly.

The scrutiny gives Kira the feeling that she has something on her face that no one has told her about, and she has to fight the automatic urge to cover her mouth or shrink back into her chair.

“Hey,” he says, the only thing he can think of.

“Jack Wilder’s daughter?” The tallest of them claps a hand down on Noel’s shoulder.

They all seem very physical with each other. When one moves, another mirrors him. “So you’re Kira?”

She nods, unnerved by the fact that everyone in this town knows her name when she knows none of theirs.

They all chant their condolences, speaking as though they knew her father well, and Kira plays along with the routine, already tired of it.

“Where’s Jayden?” asks Noel. “He got held up, but he’s coming.”

Noel looks back to Kira. “This is Frank, Chris, and Erza.” He points them out in turn, and Kira takes this opportunity to memorize their faces.

“You’ll get to know everyone in town, but these are the guys you need to know,” he winks.

Frank swings a leg over the bench to join them, and soon enough, the whole group has become part of their party.

Though she has never been shy per-se, Kira loathes being the center of attention. She thinks she preferred it when it was only she and Noel.

The four of them bombard her with questions so fast that she feels like she is speed-dating – that’s something they ask about too.

Yes, she’s in grad school. No, she doesn’t have a partner. Yes, this is definitely her first time visiting the town.

They only stop their interrogation when another man appears, and they all look up. He commands attention.

That’s Kira’s first impression of him.

As though the spotlight was moved on the stage, Kira fades from everyone’s awareness, and they focus instead on their newcomer.

They even sit up straighter.

“Jayden!” beams Noel. “Meet Kira.”

So this is Jayden.

He can’t be any taller than she is, but he’s broad – he takes up space. In a charcoal tee, despite the cool weather outside, every muscle shows.

His chest is bulky, and prominent veins travel down his arms, threading past the curve of his biceps. His frame isn’t overlarge.

He doesn’t bulge like a body-builder, but Kira wouldn’t take him on in a fight. Tattoos curl over his arms, intricate and dark.

Realizing that she’s staring, like everyone else in this town, Kira drags her eyes up to his face. To her relief, Jayden looks softer there.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” says Jayden. Even as he says it, his gaze rolls over Kira’s face and body, penetrative.

“Thank you, I appreciate that.”

Immediately, Chris stands to offer Jayden his seat, and Kira looks between the two with curiosity.

Jayden looks like the youngest of the group, with a hint of boyishness still lingering around his features. Maybe it’s just the wide, round eyes that give him such an appearance.

The innocence there doesn’t match his body. He takes a seat. “I can’t believe you haven’t come back to the town before now,” he says.

Something about the way he looks at her is like nothing Kira has ever felt before.

She knows people who hold a room by being loud, overtly confident, but Jayden isn’t loud.

His very posture is dominating. Those innocent looking eyes shouldn’t have been able to look so commanding, but somehow they did, and she was sure if Jayden barked an instruction at her, she’d obey in a second under that gaze.

“Back?” says Kira. “I’ve never been here.”

Jayden laughs. “You were born here.”

“No, I wasn’t. I was born in Danville,” she says, awkwardly. “But my father grew up here.”

“Check the records,” shrugs Jayden, shaking his head. “Danville... As if any parent from this town would let their child be born anywhere but here.

Perhaps you’ve got a lot to learn about yourself, Akira wilder.”

She wanted to argue. Her fuse was short after the day of driving and the discomfort she felt from the very moment he arrived in town.

However, Jayden is obviously the center of this group of friends, and she doesn’t want to start some kind of row with half of the town on the eve of her father’s funeral just because she’s taken an instant, irrational dislike to someone that she didn’t know five minutes ago.

Noel warned that the people here don’t have the same boundaries as those in the city.

A guy like Jayden might never even have left this town. She shouldn’t hold him to the standards of city people, where people avert their eyes from strangers and talk in polite, muted, inoffensive tones.

“We should go. I’ve got Liam on my ass about next week. Preparations need to be made.” Jayden stands, and the group follow without hesitation. “It was good to meet you at last, Kira.”

“If you need anything, ask my mom!” says Noel, quickly, over his shoulder. They follow Jayden like a litter of puppies going after their mother.