WARNING:
This book contains subject matter that may be sensitive for some readers. There is dark and triggering content between these pages related to rape and violence.
18+ only.
Please read responsibly.
Family Tree
Ethan Jackson
?
22 years old
Father: Alex Jackson
Mother: Nina Jackson
Brother: Eli Jackson
Finlay Drake
?
18 years old
Father: David Drake
Mother: Passed away
Cousin: Quinn Drake
Uncle: Josh Drake
Chapter 1
FINLAY
Finlay; 18. Ethan; 21
Dialing my cousin’s number, I grin as I wait for her to answer.
“Hi,” Quinn chirps, sounding much better after the trauma she suffered. I was worried she wouldn’t recover and felt guilty for not being able to move sooner to Southport so I could be there for her. Luckily she has a boyfriend who’s as near to a saint as they come by the sound of things.
“The house sold today!” I exclaim happily, my smile growing impossibly big. I’ve always been close with Quinn, and making the move to Southport feels right. Honestly, I should’ve moved right after Mom passed, but I stuck around, clinging to the memories we shared in this house.
“Really? That’s the best news,” she says. “When are you coming?”
I scrunch my nose. “Oh, another two weeks. I have to put the furniture in storage and clean the place.” With my Dad working on an oil rig somewhere on the coast of Saudi Arabia, I only get to see him a couple of weeks a year, so it’s up to me to put everything in storage.
Not that I’m complaining. At least Dad said I could move to Southport. But then again, I think he’s relieved I’ll be closer to Uncle Josh, his brother, and Quinn.
“Still, you’ll be here in two weeks.” I can hear the relief in Quinn’s voice, warming my heart that she wants me there with her. After my best friend left to be an Aupair in Germany, I’ve been lonely. “I can’t wait. You need to see how beautiful the bakery turned out.”
I think it’s incredible Quinn’s started her own business with the help of her boyfriend. I’m curious to meet the Jackson family she’s told me so much about.
“Send me photos,” I say. “The opening’s tomorrow, right?”
God, I wish I could be there for the celebration.
The thought only increases the excitement I feel, knowing in fourteen days I’ll have the ocean for a view and the sound of waves as background music.
“Yeah, I’m a little nervous, but I’m sure it will go well.”
“Don’t worry if business is slow. I’ll eat all your cupcakes once I’m there,” I tease her.
Quinn’s voice is brimming with enthusiasm as she says, “I can’t wait.”
“Me too,” I murmur, my eyes gliding over my childhood home while an icy breeze whips at my clothes.
Southport is much warmer than Naperville during the winters. Not having to freeze my butt off every winter will be amazing.
“Let me know what day you’re coming so I can pick you up from the bus stop.”
I take my key out of my pocket and push it into the lock. “Okay. Talk to you soon.”
We end the call as I nudge the front door open, and stepping inside the house I grew up in, I make sure to turn the lock before I head toward the living room. The AC’s heat spreads over my body, and I shiver the worst of the cold away.
“So much better,” I murmur.
I’ve lived in Naperville all my life, and I’m ready for a change. After I completed high school, I got a job at a bookstore as a cashier, so I’ll be able to help Quinn with her bakery.
Again there’s a burst of excitement in my chest. It feels like I’m finally on the right path and not just sleep-walking through the days. Seriously, the only time I’ve felt alive in the past couple of years was when I got lost in my music. I was average at school and just about anything else in my life. But music… that’s where my talent lies. It’s my heart and soul.
Which reminds me, I need to cancel the private lessons I’m currently giving. I have three students who come for lessons every other week.
I drop my bag on one of the couches and glance at the boxes I’ve managed to pack already.
Walking into the kitchen, I take a container with leftovers out of the fridge and scoop the last of the lasagna onto a plate. While I warm my dinner, my thoughts turn to Southport.
Dad said I should look at houses and let him know if I find anything I like. He’s also set aside a savings account with funds I can live off the first six months I’m there.
Dad might not be around much, but we’re still close. We talk often, and he’s always made sure I’m taken care of.
Excitement bubbles in my chest as I start to dream about having a house on the beach and waking up to the sun rising over the ocean.