The Rascal Read Online Free PDF

house, from the widow’s walk. Lana was standing there, most likely looking seaward for her lost husband.
    “He’s never coming back, Lana,” Chloe said.
    How long had the movie star been alone? It had been years since she had acted in anything. Decades. When did the fans stop showing up looking for her? Or did they even know where to look? When had Lana given up on the world and decided that only a few acres would ever be witness to her years passing?
    Chloe looked at the photograph in her hand. “Where’s your husband? Why did he leave you?” Perhaps their stories were more similar than Chloe thought.
    A violent wind ripped the photograph from her and took it over the cliff and out to sea. Chloe hadn’t even the chance to reach for it before it was beyond her grasp.
    ***
    They had met on an adventure tour through the Italian Alps. Chloe had taken the job when she was offered it by her mother to get away from the weight of expectation her family placed on her. She was seeking levity. Jeff was seeking the same, only his family was now lame and scattered. His father was dead, his mother was in a coma, and his brother Ethan had been a ward of the state. Nobody expected Jeff to take care of Ethan. Nobody expected it, so he didn’t. He took his inheritance money and did some grand adventuring while he still had the time and health to do it. Little did he know it would become his career.
    Chloe had been immediately drawn to him. The other eight people in the group were as good as invisible. The moment they met was defined by the sound of the airport terminal where she picked the group up in Italy. Jeff gave her a sly, flirtatious smile and they connected right there over the noise of American tourists and Italian customs officials. She remembered his name. She didn’t even have to repeat it to herself as she had with the others on the tour.
    “Be professional,” she reminded herself. “Don’t show favoritism.”
    “I’m going to date her,” Jeff told one of the other tourists. “Then I’m going to marry her.”
    It was at a small eatery three days into the trip that the direct route for their lives together was laid out. The eatery was next door to the hostel where they had stayed the night before. Jeff woke up early and went in to get something to snack on. He was the only one of those on the tour yet awake. Chloe sat at a table, looking over the day’s itinerary and looking beautiful. Her dark hair was swept back from her face with a clip, and the combination of such concentration and beauty was irresistible to the men of the village. They began to circle her table, flirting boisterously without fear of derision. Jeff, like those men, was taken by her beauty as well, but flirted less obviously. He was concerned that she was attracting so much attention, but by the look on her face, he was certain she could handle the situation. She had probably handled similar situations all her life.
    There were five men around her table. She did not look too flustered by them. A woman like her was used to such advances. But then the crowd began to grow. In fact, it doubled. Chloe could not see out of the group of swarthy Italians. Jeff could not see in through them. They were getting louder and their language more offensive. They were playfully yet forcefully tugging at one another and laughing, slapping backs and smearing words. Chloe was anxious and began to look around desperately for some escape.
    It was then, as if offering a rope or a ladder, she saw Jeff extend his hand into the group. She took it and he pulled her up and out, much to the contempt of the Italians.
    “Thanks,” she said. “I could have gotten out of that myself, you know.”
    “How would you have managed that?”
    “I’m one hell of a climber.”

Down the Well
    Chloe soon regretted taking so much time off from work as well. The days were stretching out cold and silent, like cracks in the ice. The shadows of the night were the darkest she had