Page 1 of The Boy With The Sharp Teeth
Chapter 1
"Whenis your stuff arriving?" Stopping in the master bedroom doorway, the tallman turned and leaned one heavy shoulder against the wooden frame, his goldeneyes settling heavily on her.
Theman's stare unnerved her, it always had.
Forwhat had to be the hundredth time since Sana Bhatt stepped foot in her lategrandmother's house and found the man waiting for her in the living room, shecursed herself for not reading her emails more carefully. Ever since hergrandmother died over a year ago now, she had been corresponding with Tarki'sonly realtor and property management service via email to take care of theplace until she decided what to do with it.
Afterher parents had driven down from Seattle to pack away and take back the things theywanted to keep, it was left to her to decide the fate of everything else. Frompacking away what was left, covering and storing the remaining heavy pieces ofantique furniture nobody wanted, and maintaining the property, the man in frontof her had answered every single one of her overly detailed emails andfulfilled all of her exacting requests with short, succinct replies thatsomehow came off gruff even through email. Sana had expected "Z. EluweiWaatese" to be an old bearded fisherman or maybe a worse-for-wear localhandyman. What she did not and would not have ever have imagined was ZachariahWaatese standing in her grandmother's house holding the keys. Why didn't sheever consider that Zachariah had a middle name? For nearly a year of back-and-forthemails, the unassuming signature of "Z. Eluwei Waatese" at the bottomwas actually Zachariah Waatese just up to his old ways—taunting her.
Findingher voice, Sana took a practiced breath, stamping down the rush of anxiety shealways got when near him. "Umm, tomorrow hopefully," she added,thinking of the inconveniently large window of time the moving company gaveher.
Nodding,he stared at her a few moments longer, the growing silence between them makingher pulse race. Did he even remember her? Was he realizing the Sana Bhatt hehad been taking orders and payment from for nearly a year now was the same onehe toyed and tormented all those years ago? She couldn't tell. His naturallystern face was unreadable as ever.
Nodding,he turned around, continuing their conversation. "Then that will give metime to come by early tomorrow before you get here and re-install the bathroomcabinet doors," his deep voice vibrated gently off the empty walls of thehallway as he walked down the stairs. His heavy black boots made surprisinglylittle sound down the dark-stained wooden stairs.
Sana'sstomach leaped at the prospect of having to see him again so soon. She wasbarely hanging on as it was, being this close to the man that punctuated somany of her teenage memories.
"Oh,ok," she breathed deeply as her hand slid down the shiny wooden banisterin her slow pursuit after him. "Well, I will be here, so anytime Isuppose is good for me."
Histall figure stopped at the bottom of the stairs causing her to pause a fewsteps up from the bottom. Turning around slowly, he gave her a questioningfrown. At eye level with him now, she could see the pale scar she had noticedearlier much more clearly now. Starting a few inches above his eyebrow, thejagged cut slashed through the thick black hair of his eyebrow and down to hischeek underneath his eye. It gave his naturally stern yet handsome face asevere, vicious quality. Even now, fully healed, she could easily tell the scarhad been deep. She couldn’t help but wonder how he got it. He certainly didn'thave it seven years ago.
"Excuseme?" The depth of Zachariah's tone, along with his piercing golden stare,made her body seize up. "Sana," he began deliberately, using her nameas a warning and threat all at once. "In your last email, you stated youwould be staying at the inn."
Innwas a very generous title forDruthers Rest. An old eight-bedroom convertedVictorian run by a crotchety old woman, Mrs. Nowak, whose off-puttingpersonality wouldn't allow anyone who met her to dare call the place somethingas warm and cozy sounding as a bed-and-breakfast. Fortunately for Mrs. Nowak,Tarki was located off a lonely two-lane highway in Oregon that dead-ended ahundred miles down in a city called Antor Falls and was sandwiched by adepressing little town called Gaulding even farther down the opposite directionof the highway. Meaning the few visitors and even fewer tourists Tarki receivedwere forced to stay at herinn.
Standingup straighter, Sana reminded herself she was not the same person he manipulatedseven years ago. She was an adult now, dammit. "Yes, but I decided notto," she tried to inflict a reasonable amount of haughty command in hervoice.
Zach'sgolden eyes narrowed with even more conviction, and Sana could see that herattempt at confidence failed miserably on him. "Where are you going tosleep? By your instructions,” he reminded her firmly, “I have removed and takenall the mattresses to the dump."
"Oh,don't worry," she gave him a small smile, looking away from his strangelycompelling eyes. Stepping to the side, she squeezed by him down the stairs andpast him to the front door. "They make mattresses that compress and rollup into boxes now. I have one in my backseat."
Standingnear the front door, she looked back to see him facing her now. Sunlight from thestained glass arched window above the door shined down around him as he walkedtowards her. How could this have happened? After months of carefulconsideration, juggling her fears, doubts, and of course her mother's staunchdisapproval, she left her job at a very prestigious company to move to asleepy, rundown town off the Pacific Northwest coast. She had carefully plannedfor everything: a new job, a new home, and even possibly a new passion projectshe had always dreamed of, but here standing in front of her was the one personshe thought she would never see again. Here was the man who had tormented herin his boyhood, who had turned her idyllic summers upside down with hiscrackling golden gaze, his sharp smile, and dark good looks. He was supposed tobe gone. He wasn't supposed to be standing here in front of her, bathed incolorful streams of light, making her blood pound through her veins.
Darkbronzed skin, a wide, firm jaw with unsmiling lips that always hinted at acruel knowing smirk, he stood tall and commanding in his thick black canvasjacket and dark jeans. His long midnight-black hair settled down over hiscollar and past his shoulders, gleaming a healthy shine in the light. Anddespite his arresting good looks, she could vividly remember his growlingsneers and wicked unkept promises from years ago. So why was it that when helooked at her now, recognition did not light his eyes? How could he work in hergrandmother's house for a year and email the girl whose life he went out of hisway to make miserable and never say anything? Looking down at the perfectlypolished floorboards at her feet, Sana nearly laughed. Maybe she was even moreunremarkable than she thought. Sana had never been someone would describe ascharming, outgoing, and definitely not vibrant. No, she was always the girl whokept her head down around strangers, someone who could most likely be caughtreading at home on perfectly sunny days. It wasn't surprising at all he didn'tremember her.
"Mmm,"he made a noise in his throat as he considered her words. "Then turn onthe heat now if you plan to be warm tonight. I haven't started it in weeks. Andyou might want to sleep in the smallest guest room since all of the othersstill have drying paint."
"Ok."Surprised by his consideration, she tried to wipe the shock from her eyes as hestepped past her for the front door. "Well, thank you." She followedhim out onto the deep front porch as he headed down the stairs. "If I needanything, I guess I could…"
Turningat the base of the stairs, Zach looked up at her, his golden eyes somehowbrighter even in the sunlight. "Don't worry, Sana," he said, cuttingher off. A small familiar smirk tugged at the side of his mouth, sending aflashing memory through her mind of a boy with golden eyes and sharp teeth whopulled her behind trees and kissed her without permission and bit her lip justto hear her cry out. "I'll be seeing you around. Welcome home."
Chapter 2
Waitingbehind the front door, Sana listened to the fading sounds of gravel crunchingunderneath tires before finally emerging. Breathing a sigh of relief at theabsence of his large blue pick-up truck, she made her way to her SUV. Grabbingthe large box that contained her mattress and her duffel bag from the frontpassenger seat, she began the slow process of unpacking her car. With the windwhipping through her hair, she paused, closing her eyes to feel the cool, earlyOctober air against her warm cheeks. The suspended feeling in her stomach thatshe had for the last three months since she decided to take this life-alteringleap finally dissipated as she looked at the lavender-painted house in front ofher. With its four heavy wooden pillars and deep porch, the two-story craftsmanbungalow stood perfectly preserved in time.
Shehad spent nearly every summer in this house as a kid. She had sat on the widewooden stairs leading up to the vestibule door reading her books and playingcards with her younger brother, while her mom sat on the porch swing and talkedwith her aunt over the phone. This was it. She was finally back. She took theleap that her friends warned her not to take, and her parents certainly railedagainst. She was here, standing in front of her grandmother's house she spent agood deal of her childhood in as the new owner. From now on, this was herlife—her future.
Shuttingthe front door with her foot, she wheeled in her suitcase and balanced thepaper bag of groceries in one arm. The bungalow seemed so much bigger now thatit was empty of life and most of its contents. When she was younger, this housealways seemed so cramped with her and her younger brother, both of her parents,and grandparents stuffed in the four bedrooms. But now, looking at it with theeyes of an adult who had paid rent for many a shoebox-sized apartment, shecould appreciate the space so much more.
Thedining room off to the right of the front door still had the lengthyeight-person cherry wood table covered by a white sheet. Memories of the lastfamily dinner shared at that table the summer she turned seventeen felt vividand real, like it was only yesterday. The tops of the dining room chairs risingup underneath the covering gave the table a ghostly appearance, much like allthe other draped furniture in the house. Only the pieces of furniture that weretoo large and too elegant to bother moving remained in the house, along withall the custom built-ins. The living room currently had no couch, being givento her aunt Priya in California, leaving only the giant Bornholmgrandfather-clock and ship captain's writing desk standing covered in dustycloth against the wall, giving the room a wide-open feeling.
Settingdown the groceries on the kitchen counter, Sana began unpacking the little bitof groceries she brought along with her, placing the items in the refrigeratorand pantry. Opening a cabinet, she paused at the sight of four neatly stackedmismatched plates next to a stack of three bowls and a small army of glasses inall shapes and sizes. Zach didn't mention the remaining dishes in any of hisemails. Examining the organized rows of China and glasses, she had a hard timepicturing Zachariah Waatese, the renegade of Tarki, taking the time tocarefully stack a bunch of stray dishes. But the evidence was right in front ofher, all around her, in fact.
Closingthe cabinet door, she looked around at the freshly painted walls and rememberedall the awful, dated wallpaper that decorated every room in the house. Notanymore. After several dozen emails on her part, paint researching, and a smallfortune being paid to Waatese Property Management Services, all of the walls inthe house were stripped clean and painted the same softcoconut cream.The color incidentally turned out to be Zach's decision. After waiting nearly aweek for her to decide on the paint color, she received an overnight letter ather apartment with a sticky note attached to a paint card sample that simplysaid: "Pick this one." And she did. Just by painting thewalls, the transformation to the place was breathtaking, and the chosen colorwas perfect against the dark wood trim.
Nighttime,she noticed with a glance out the window, was quickly approaching. Grabbing themattress-in-a-box, she dragged it up the stairs. The task was much harder thanshe anticipated. Why in God's name was compacted memory foam this damn heavy?!Heaving it up the last stair, Sana paused with a tired exhale on the landing.Looking around the empty second floor, she peered out through one of the openbedroom doors to the windows within.
Thebungalow had many, many windows that gave it a lovely airy, sun-drenchedfeeling during the day, while at night—well—it was a different feeling entirely.From the large, matching picture windows in the living and dining room, thelarge bay windows in the kitchen, and the tall window on the stairwell landing,she felt like she was on display for anyone to see as night descended and herown reflection shined back at her on the glass. Memo, get curtains, shethought. Thankfully, her house was far down the end of the lane. Surrounded bythe forest on nearly all sides, she didn't have to worry about anyone passingby and watching her. Cutting open the box and decompressing her mattress, Sanabegan pulling off the remaining sheets covering the bedroom furniture. It feltweird sleeping in her grandparents' room. Though it looked completely differentnow without their things and freshly painted, she still somehow felt like achild intruding in adult territory.
