on it, and before she’d pulled it out enough to determine if it was a skirt or a dress, she saw dark red splotches all over it.
It was unmistakable. The fabric was stained with blood.
Her heart thudded dully in her chest. Once she realized what she was holding, she dropped it in a hurry, not wanting to touch the blood. Hurriedly, she slipped on the flip-flops, grabbed the purse, and slammed the trunk shut.
Gemma stared down at the trunk, swallowing hard and slowing the panic rising in her chest. She knew the sirens were monsters. She had to assume that they did bad things. But she couldn’t think about it. She couldn’t do anything about it, at least not right now.
The best she could do was get herself under control, eat something before she freaked out, and then decide how she was going to deal with the situation.
She had to walk through a long alley to get around to the front of the restaurant, and that gave her time to calm down and cool off. By the time she reached the front door, she felt normal enough to smile at the maître’d.
The straps of her bikini were showing, and she was clearly underdressed. It wasn’t a super-upscale place, but it was nice enough that flip-flops and a sundress shouldn’t have cut it. The maître’d looked as if he were about to tell her just that, but then she smiled at him, and everything changed.
He apologized profusely that he couldn’t find her a table right away and asked her to wait at the bar until one opened up. Gemma told him not to hurry, afraid he might actually kick people out to make room for her.
The sun was setting when she’d arrived, and based on the crowd, she guessed she’d hit the dinner rush. People were finally leaving the beaches and heading indoors to eat.
As she walked through the restaurant up to the bar, she could feel people looking at her. The room seemed to grow more hushed as she walked by. The power of the siren was still something she wasn’t used to.
“What can I get for you?” the bartender asked her before she even had a chance to sit down on the stool.
“Um, just a Cherry Coke would be fine,” Gemma said.
“Coming right up,” he said, smiling brightly before dashing off to fill her order.
A guy was sitting two stools down, nursing his Long Island Iced Tea. Gemma happened to glance over at him, and she caught him looking at her. He apparently took that as some kind of invitation, and he moved next to her.
“Hey,” he said with a Southern drawl. “What are you drinking?”
“Cherry Coke.” No sooner had the words left her mouth than the bartender appeared in front of her with the drink.
“I gave you a couple extra cherries.” The bartender winked at her and motioned at the three maraschino cherries in the glass.
“Thank you,” Gemma said.
Another patron called to the bartender from the other end, and he reluctantly stepped away to do his job.
“So…” The guy next to her leaned on the bar, moving closer to her. “Are you from around here?”
“No.” Gemma deliberately stared straight ahead and stirred her drink with the straw. She wanted to eat the cherries, but she was afraid it might be construed as seductive somehow, and she didn’t want the guy next to her to get the wrong idea.
“Me neither,” the guy went on. “It’s a nice town, though.”
“Yep.”
“Yeah.” He took a long sip of his beverage before turning back to her. “I’m Jason, by the way.”
She smiled thinly at him, doing her best to be polite. “Gemma.”
“It’s nice to meet you.” He held out his hand to her, but she didn’t shake it.
Jason was a little cute, but he appeared to be in his early thirties. Not to mention the fact that she definitely wasn’t looking to hook up with anyone. She’d run away from the sirens and Sawyer to avoid that. Besides, Jason wasn’t Alex.
“Are you here alone?” he asked.
“I’m having dinner alone,” Gemma clarified. “I wanted some time to myself.”
“Oh.” He scratched his head, and for one glorious moment she thought her rebuff was going to sink in. “A pretty little thing like you should never dine alone. Why don’t you have dinner with me?”
“Don’t you think I’m a little young for you?” Gemma asked. The guy was probably twice her age.
“Is that what’s bothering you?” Jason laughed jovially, as if he’d solved a problem that