Pelican Bay Security

My salvation lies straight ahead.Exit number six — Pelican Bay.It took one week and 1,965 miles of driving, but I've successfully left my life in Westford, Oklahoma. I've had a full week to clear my head and leave my previous poor choices behind me. One hour south of the Canadian border rests the sleepy seaside town of Pelican Bay. The town where I'll begin my new life.A smarter life.A happier life.A quiet life.The small, discreet town on Maine's northern coast sits on rocky beaches surrounded by thick evergreen woods. It's almost cut off from the rest of the world. It's also about as far as you can get from Oklahoma while still on American soil. But those are added perks and aren't included in the reason I'm ultimately here.A short man in a brown uniform, the name John written on his name tag, delivered the final decision in the form of certified mail two weeks ago.My great aunt Gertie died.I'd known that. I didn't know she left me her two bedroom one bath n

I release a silent scream that comes out as a gasp and then pull back from my now almost open window. My balance is off from the sudden movement, so I latch on to the rail to stop myself from tumbling over."What are you doing?" the disembodied voice asks again.There's a shadow a few feet past the stoop, the actual form of the man hidden in darkness. I am clueless to what I'm dealing with, but I imagine a cop would make themselves known, flashing a badge or pair of handcuffs by now."Um. I live here," I stammer over my words. Technically they're true. I will live here. Once I'm inside.The shadow shifts, stepping a foot closer. "You got proof of that?" he asks in a quick flat sentence like he's already decided I don't.He's right."Erm... no." Copies of the paperwork are in my mother's safe in Oklahoma. I'm set to receive an official copy from Aunt Gertie's lawyer here in the mail, but it's not shoved in a pocket somewhere. "I have a key." The useless key dangles from my p

I race around the track, drop off another package, and hit the buzzer as I pass. The ding from the victory bells turns into a hard knock, and I peek around questioning where the noise comes from. It happens again, this time bringing me out of my dream, and I open my eyes to the dark room around me.I'm wrapped up in the white quilt from the spare bedroom. It would make more sense to claim the master bedroom, but Gertie's possessions are still in there, looking like she'll return at any moment. This room feels like mine. It's the one where I spent summers curled up in the thick comforter and propped against the light blue familiar walls reading a book.The knocks come again, but this time there's a male voice yelling from somewhere out front. "You up, Tabitha?"It's another three point four seconds before I recognize it as Ridge's voice. Then I'm up and out of bed, tugging my brown hair back into a proper ponytail. I hightail it out of the bedroom to find him standing in my kitche

I drop the can of paint, and it falls to the side and rolls under the back end of the car. With a hand on the top of the trunk, I brace, debating whether I need to make a run for it. A tall blonde hops off my porch, leaving the rocker she'd been sitting in wobbling from her sudden departure."I've got it. Thanks. I reach back into the trunk, curious about who the hell is chillin' on my porch, but not curious enough to ask her.She sticks her head in the trunk, disregarding what I said, and pulls out the second gallon of paint and one of the plastic bags. "Name's Katy. Hardware, huh? Did you see Mack?" The questions roll out of her with barely a breath."Um... yeah."Katy walks up to the porch, the paint swinging in her hand. "I brought your mail."I've been here less than twenty-four hours, how can I have mail? "Okay...""Larry, the mailman, is up there in years. He forgets what road he's on most of the time. As long as the numbers match, he crams it in the box," she carrie

A shadow falls over my food as a tall guy in khakis and a dark blue polo stops at the end of our table. "Katy." His eyes barely flit over to her before he's focused on me. "Tabitha." He smirks."Pierce," she says between clenched teeth.His dirty blond hair's swept off to the side in a flawless hairdo. It probably takes him half a bottle of gel every morning. "Move over, Katy.""Go away, Pierce." She tries to shoo him away with her hand, but he doesn't leave."I haven't met our new friend yet." He sits down on my side of the bench until I'm forced to slide over, taking my food and drink with me. I shake his outstretched hand while Katy glares at us. "I'm Pierce.""Yes, I heard. It's nice to meet you." I take my hand back as soon as possible."No it's not," Katy sneers. Pierce looks nice, but Katy acts like he carries the bubonic plague. Although since we've already established she's crazy, I'm not sure how much stock to put into her assessments.Pierce only laughs. "You t