Page 23 of Into The Darkness

“What . . . what?” I repeated, not understanding what he wasn’t understanding.

He turned down the next street and headed in the opposite direction of the apartment, toward the center of Isles.

“Have you lost your fucking mind?” I barked. That was another thing I had gotten used to doing more since moving here. Cursing was something I vowed never to put in my vocabulary because I thought there were more eloquent ways of saying things, but I realized with everything I had somehow been through in the last week, fuck had turned into one of my most used words.

“Nah.” He smirked as he pulled into the sleepy little town. Because it was Sunday and most of the college kids, like Maddy, were at the bars watching the football game, the rest of the town was deserted.

The town center was like a cozy maze of small locally owned shops—one of the quirks I adored about Isles. You would find no big corporate stores here, as everything was university-affiliated or lovingly managed by the year-round residents.

We pulled into a little diner at the town’s southern end, and I couldn’t help but smile at its charming worn appearance. It had that unmistakable retro vibe, like a scene straight out of a 1970s movie, with the red and white decor giving it a timeless feel. I half expected we’d be sipping milkshakes from the same glass, ready to head to a sock hop afterward. My gaze rose to the large welcome sign, its neon lights buzzing too loudly, as if announcing our arrival with enthusiasm.

“This is unbelievable,” I murmured and stared at the ceiling of the car, as if I would get some cosmic sign to reassure me I wasn’t going crazy, because I felt like it.

“Get out, mi sol,” Ash encouraged as he opened the door for me. I left my bag in the car, figuring he owed me, and if he would detour us without asking, then the least he could do was pay for my food.

Hesitantly, I followed him into the small diner. The shingles of the diner were hanging on by a thread, the rain had done a number on the paint over the years, making it crack and chip in many places, and the wooden steps up to the front door were so weathered, I wasn’t sure they’d hold my weight as I walked up them.

“It’s just a place some of the locals who actually live here go, but I swear they have the best burgers and shakes,” Ash said as if he could read my mind. He held the door open, giving me whiplash with his back-and-forth behavior.

“If I walk into this diner, you owe me answers.” Who was I right now? I didn’t know the person inside me or why I felt I was owed anything.

When my mom died, I asked so many questions about what happened, why it happened, and who the man inside the house with us had been. My dad and Walsh never answered me, continuously dismissing me. When I finally begged them to tell me, my dad yelled at me. It was the first time he had ever raised his voice in my direction, and I never questioned him again. Whatever my dad said, was as right as rain.

So demanding answers from Ash and not just taking his word as gospel, even took me back for a moment.

“You aren’t what you seem, Ember Solis. You have some darkness inside of you.” I didn’t quite understand what he meant, but I bit my tongue because he hadn’t answered what I needed him to.

“So what if I do?” I paused for a moment before adding, “Are you going to answer my questions?”

“The ones I can answer, yes.” His voice was filled with a sense of empathy and understanding. This was the side of Ash who offered to pick up my books when they fell. He brushed his hair out of his face and stood there holding the door wide open.

Taking a deep breath, I walked through, and I swear a sigh of relief came from behind me.

I took a quick glance around, and the interior matched the exterior perfectly. The red-and-white checkered floor seemed to pulse with history under the worn, squeaky vinyl booths. The counters were polished stainless steel, reflecting the glow of the neon signs hanging on the walls.

The scent of sizzling bacon and freshly brewed coffee wafted through the air, mingling with the sweet aroma of syrup and pancakes. The sound of the clinking of cutlery on ceramic plates only added to the nostalgia of the diner. It was a place that felt well-worn and familiar, a slice of Americana preserved in time.

“Well, took you two kids long enough to decide if we were worthy of sittin’ down or not.” The waitress was in her fifties and wore jeans and a black button-down. Two customers ate at the counter, but we were the only other patrons in the restaurant aside from them.

“Oh, sorry, my girlfriend here cannot make up her mind about anything,” Ash responded, and I shot a glare at him.

What a little shit.

“And myboyfriend can’tseem to respect me enough to tell me the truth,” I followed, which elicited a chuckle that only further irritated me.

“Not gettin’ in the middle of that.” She threw her hands up, then told us to grab a seat. Ash grabbed a booth in the far corner.

“What can I get yous?” The waitress set two glasses of water at our table.

“Two cheeseburgers and two chocolate milkshakes.” Ash ordered for both of us.

“What if I didn’t eat beef?” I asked.

“But you do, don’t you?” I nodded.

“Good, so that point is null and void.” He grabbed a straw, then fiddled with the wrapper, bending it around his fingers.

“Well, are you going to ask your questions?” Ash blurted as I leaned back in the booth and folded my arms across my chest. He shifted in his seat, and I knew then that I had the upper hand here.

---