Rewriting grey, p.1
Rewriting Grey, page 1
Rewriting Grey: by L.A. FERRO Published by Pine Hollow Publishing
Copyright © 2024 by L.A. FERRO
All rights reserved.
No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. For permissions contact: L.A.Ferro@hotmail.com
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Cover by K.B. Barrett Designs
Proofreading & Editing: Lawrence Editing
Published by Pine Hollow Publishing
Cataloging-in-Publication data is on file with the Library of Congress.
Created with Vellum
Contents
Note to Readers
1. Quinn
2. Quinn
3. Iverson
4. Quinn
5. Iverson
6. Quinn
7. Quinn
8. Iverson
9. Quinn
10. Iverson
11. Quinn
12. Quinn
13. Iverson
14. Quinn
15. Iverson
16. Quinn
17. Iverson
18. Quinn
19. Iverson
20. Iverson
21. Quinn
22. Iverson
23. Quinn
24. Quinn
25. Quinn
26. Iverson
27. Quinn
28. Iverson
29. Quinn
30. Iverson
31. Quinn
32. Iverson
33. Iverson
Bonus Epilogue
Also by L.A. Ferro
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Note to Readers
There is a charm about the forbidden that makes it unspeakably desirable.
Mark Twain
Please read responsibly.
A list of potential triggers can be found on my website.
www.authorlaferro.com
Chapter 1
Quinn
“A
re you freaking kidding me right now?” I screech as I crash my head into the steering wheel of my old Jeep Wrangler a little harder than intended, only further heightening my frustration. “What deity did I piss off now? Seriously!” I swear to fuck nothing in my life can ever be easy. Hell, at this point, if it were easy, I’d think I was being pranked. My chest deflates as I expel my annoyance before climbing out of my Jeep to check the damage. It’s darker than dark out here. I didn’t see anything in the road, but apparently, my back tire did. Reaching for my phone in the cup holder, I then switch on the flashlight, reluctantly throw open the door, and hop out.
As soon as my boots hit the pavement, a chill runs down my spine, and every potentially bad thing that could happen being stranded in the woods at night seeps into the recesses of my mind. “Damn it, Quinn. You’re not scared of the dark, and grizzly bears aren’t a thing here. You already googled it, and the chances of some deranged serial killer lurking in the woods in the exact spot your car broke down are slim.” I shrug my shoulders and roll my neck, summoning my inner badass as I release a cleansing breath and walk toward the back of my Jeep.
I knew I should have sucked it up and bought a damn plane ticket, but I’m currently a jobless college graduate with a mountain of tuition debt. A plane ticket felt like a luxury spend I couldn’t justify putting on a credit card, though, in hindsight, it may have been the cheaper and better option considering gas, overnight sleeping arrangements, and now wear and tear. Shining the flashlight of my phone toward my back tire reveals it’s shredded. Figures this would be one of those times when the can of fix-a-flat I keep in my trunk wouldn’t suffice.
“Great.” I kick the rim and instantly regret my decision to drive.
The drive from Carbondale, Illinois, to the upper peninsula of Michigan is only roughly twelve hours, which isn’t anything to balk about, but my Jeep is old. I knew driving it was a risk. However, I was going to need a car to drive around while up here. If I can’t justify the cost of a flight, I definitely can’t rationalize a rental car. Again, all things that in hindsight seem better than my current predicament. Something howls out in the distance, and all the hairs on my body immediately stand on end.
“Shit, shit, shit.” I haul my ass back inside to safety, slam the door closed, and try to calm myself enough to think through my options.
I could sleep in here. I packed enough clothes to add a few layers. Plus, I brought my favorite blanket. My time visiting Copper Falls is currently indeterminate, so I have more than enough shit in my car to make it one night broken down on the side of the road. Second, if I sleep in my car my chicken ass can attempt to put my spare tire on in the morning light and save money. But if I do that, I will likely be restless, scared shitless, worrying about rogue serial killers, bears, and whatever other shit might be lurking in these woods, only to find out I’m unequipped to change a spare tire. I’m an independent woman through and through, but come on; dark woods, broken down on the side of the road in a place you’ve never been screams horror movie.
Fuck it, I’m calling roadside assistance. My heart plummets when the phone’s screen light assaults my senses in the dark of night. No service. “This can’t be happening.”
I click the lock button on my door and lay my head on the steering wheel, resigned that my only option is the first because I’m not attempting to change a tire in the dead of night. With my luck, a grizzly bear that isn’t supposed to exist here would eat me. I hadn’t accounted for road construction when I mapped out this trip. I hit four construction zones on I-57 within the first three hours of my drive, extending what was supposed to be a twelve-hour drive into a fifteen-hour one. While stuck in traffic, I noticed I would hit another three if I didn’t reroute. That’s when I decided to get a motel for the night and split up the trip. Winging it wasn’t working out.
I’m a planner. It’s unlike me not to have a plan. I’ve never had the resources to fly by the seat of my pants. Everything I do is calculated—except for this, and though it’s currently the bane of my existence, it’s cementing the fact that I need to stick to what I know. Structure and a plan: while dull and monotonous, at least I know one plus one will always equal two. There are no surprises.
Resigning myself to the fact that I will be sleeping in my Jeep since I couldn’t tell you the last time I passed another vehicle, I sit up and take stock of my back seat. Getting to my knees, I turn around, find my long black leather duster jacket, and toss it into the passenger seat before pushing my suitcase aside and digging for the blanket I’m sure I have stuffed into the hamper I brought for transporting clothes. I only had one suitcase, and it’s not even full-size. I’m almost positive it qualifies as a carry-on. My hands hit the fleece, and I pull hard since it’s under a mountain of God knows what. I overpacked. Of that, I’m sure, but I’ve never been to Michigan. Sure, it’s summertime. The days are in the seventies, and the nights are in the fifties, but I’m from the Midwest. Anything that’s not humid and scorching hot is cold. Like now, it’s probably somewhere in the sixties, but whatever humidity might linger is practically nonexistent, and there’s a chill in the air.
My blanket finally releases, and I toss it over the headrest of my passenger seat to pull over my lap after I get my coat on. That’s when I spot a box of Cheez-Its. The mere sight of food makes my stomach instantly grumble. I hate driving at night. In fact, it’s the last thing I should be doing. It’s why I skipped stopping to grab anything for lunch. I was determined to reach Copper Falls before sunset, but an accident on the highway had everyone gridlocked for hours. So now here I am, stranded in the dark, eating Cheez-Its for dinner.
I’ve just finished pulling my coat on, and I’m about to pop the first toasted morsel of cheese into my mouth when headlights about a mile down the road catch my eye. Crap. I could get out of my Jeep and try to wave them down for a ride, but where would that leave me? In a motel I can’t afford for yet another night? No, thank you. Plus, there’s the added bonus of my mother’s advice playing on repeat in my head: never pick up hitchhikers, don’t take rides from strangers. The vehicle headed my way could very well belong to the next Ted Bundy. That last thought has me sliding down in my seat so that whoever might be behind the wheel doesn’t notice me. Hopefully, they see a broken-down, vacant vehicle on the side of the road instead of a twenty-five-year-old unarmed woman. Don’t get me wrong; I can throw a throat chop like it’s nobody’s business, but I’d rather bypass all of that. Abduction is an inconvenience I currently don’t have the time for. This whole damn trip is something I don’t have time for. For fuck’s sake, what am I doing?
The lights of the oncoming car draw near, starting out as a faint glare on the window until they are close enough to light the entirety of my vehicle. Mentally, I do a countdown, ticking off the seconds it should take for the vehicle to pass to help calm my nerves. “Damn it, Quinn, when did you become paranoid? This isn’t you. It’s fine, you’re fine.” But no sooner I utter the last word than I hear the car that should be passing by come to a stop. “Seriously,” I exhale on a muffled groan, then hold my breath as though that will make me invisible.
A car door closes before a man’s voice calls out, “Eloise, get back in the car. I said I would check it out.”
Whoever the female voice belongs to seems fabulous—a horror movie connoisseur after my own heart.
“It’s the start of the tourist season. That’s why you don’t recognize the vehicle.”
I’m too busy allowing myself to eavesdrop on their private moment that the sound of her heels clicking against the pavement drawing nearer doesn’t register in time for me to sit up.
The next thing I know, a phone light is shining in my face as a blonde puts her hand on the window and peers in, her eyes landing on my very non-dead body.
“Boo,” I say without thought.
She yelps, jumping back in surprise as I slowly sit in my seat.
“Eloise, what the hell?” the man says. I catch his well-built silhouette in the headlight beams as he closes the distance between her and my Jeep.
I hurriedly reach for the handle and rush out to defuse the situation when I note the worry in his voice. ‘Boo’ probably wasn’t the best start.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. You caught me off guard. I didn’t expect anyone to drive by, let alone stop. Where I’m from, that’s not a thing and…” I stop myself when I realize I’m rambling and add, “Look, I’m just sorry.” I drop my hands to my sides before focusing my eyes on the couple standing before me instead of my hands.
The woman who knocked on my window still bears a startled look as her hand grips the fabric of the silk shawl wrapped around her shoulders. Even stunned, she is breathtaking. Her platinum-blonde hair is cut into a bob that highlights every flawless angle on her petite face, and don’t even get me started on her makeup. Perfect. Just when the corners of her bright red lips start to quirk up into the beginning of a smile, the arm that was protectively outstretched across her body drops, but my eyes don’t. Instead, they slowly rake up the broad torso of the man who inserted himself between us as if to shield her from me.
My stomach instantly knots as my saliva dissipates. If I thought she was gorgeous, he’s every bit her rival, devilishly handsome and strikingly enigmatic. His pensive glare pointedly directed at me only adds to his overall appeal. The pair are clearly going out somewhere, if not on their way home from a date night. She’s dressed in a tight red sheath dress, and he’s wearing tan chinos and a blue polo that perfectly hug the swell of the well-defined muscles underneath.
Luckily, as my self-awareness kicks in and I realize I’m gawking, the Gods show me some mercy because the woman clears her throat and says, “You don’t have anything to be sorry about. I don’t blame you for my overactive imagination.” She moves to step around the man, who I assume is her date, and holds out her hand. “I’m Eloise, but my friends call me Lou.”
“Quinn Collins,” I say as I shake her delicate hand.
“Well, Quinn, it looks like you need a ride. If you don’t mind coming with us to—”
“Eloise, she doesn’t want to return to the house with us.”
“We can’t very well leave her here, Ives.”
“I wasn’t suggesting that we would. What I was getting at is that we should take her into town before heading to the house.”
She places her hands on her hips. “Ives, we are already running late, and driving to town and back would take us an hour—”
This time, I cut in, “Look, I don’t want to be a bother. I’m fine. I blew a tire, that’s all. I can survive in my Jeep for the night until it’s light enough for me to throw on the spare. Please go to your party.” When I allow myself to risk a glance at Ives, I can practically feel annoyance radiating off him.
He rolls his lips and shakes his head. “Grab whatever you need from your Jeep. You will not be sleeping on the side of the road.”
“Honestly, it’s fine.”
“You’re probably right. Nothing happens here. However, I can’t in good conscience leave someone stranded, let alone a woman who clearly isn’t from these parts.”
“We’re taking her to the party with us, right?” Eloise questions, her voice full of concern. This party they are going to must be important, and I’m throwing a wrench in their night.
“The two of you are dressed for a nice event, and I am not. How about we compromise? If I could borrow one of your cell phones and call roadside assistance, the two of you can be on your way. I won’t be stranded, and you can sleep with a clear conscience.”
She gives me a tight smile. “You are most definitely an out-of-towner. Everyone gets terrible service this far north by the lake. Most of the area is a dead zone. It’s why—”
Tall, dark, and handsome cuts in, “This conversation is over. Grab your purse. You can return with us, and we’ll figure the rest out from there.”
He doesn’t hang around or wait for my response before returning to the vehicle.
“I suppose that settles it. You’re coming with us. Do you need me to help you with anything?”
“No, just let me grab my bag, and I’ll meet you at the car.”
When I turn toward my Jeep, she says, “Okay,” followed by the sound of her retreating heels clicking back toward the waiting Land Rover. Rummaging through my console, I collect my phone and keys before lifting the blanket to grab my messenger bag. Then, scanning the front seat, I make sure I have everything I’ll need for whatever adventure I’m about to embark on. After I’m sure I’ve grabbed the essentials, my eyes quickly flick over to the duffle bag I threw in the back last minute before I left. I know it has two summer dresses in it. The denim shorts romper I’m wearing with a black long-sleeved body suit and black Dr. Martens don’t fit the bill for whatever event I’m being dragged to. I could easily snag one of the dresses, toss it in my bag, and change whenever we get to our destination. Closing my eyes, I cringe at how out of place I’m about to feel. “Stop, Quinn. The guy waiting for you in the car is taken. He couldn’t care less what you look like, and you’re not here to make friends. This visit is temporary.”
I release a long breath, letting my lips trill on the exhale and settling my resolve before closing the door. “It’s not the first time you’ll walk into a room full of people you don’t know, and it sure as hell won’t be the last.”
The second the door closes after my ass hits the leather seat, Lou pounces and asks the first question of what I’m sure will be a hundred.
“So where are you from?”
I tuck pieces of my long dark hair that have fallen out of my braid behind my ear and buckle my seat belt. “I’m from a small town in Illinois. Probably nowhere you’re familiar with.” In an attempt to be personable, I ask the same, “Are you from Michigan? Your accent sounds like you’re from New York or somewhere on the East Coast.”
She turns her body in the seat so that she’s facing me. “Close. I’m actually from Rhode Island, Nantucket, to be exact.”
“Oh, I’ve never really traveled outside of the Midwest. I just knew it didn’t sound Northern. Not that there’s anything wrong with the way you sound. It’s just different from the few people I’ve encountered since making my way up here this afternoon.” What is wrong with me? Why am I rambling?
I must do well at hiding my overall discomfort because she simply carries on. That, or I’ve given her the impression that I consistently have word vomit, overexplaining unnecessary things.
“How long are you planning on staying here? Your Jeep looked pretty full.”
“I don’t plan on staying long. I’m more or less passing through. My Jeep is merely an example of my over-preparedness. I can never pack light.”
After supplying my answer, I turn my gaze out the window. I really don’t care to discuss the reasons that brought me to Copper Falls with strangers. Especially when I’m still processing them myself.
“Oh, I hoped maybe you planned on staying. Copper Falls is small, and having a new friend in town would be nice. Plus, I may know a guy here or two—”
“Eloise, leave it alone. She’s had a long day, and we’re about to make her night even longer.”
She scowls at him before turning forward in her seat. “I wasn’t bothering her. I think driving in silence with people you’ve never met would be more awkward than carrying on a friendly conversation.”
