Total pages in book: 186
Estimated words: 176552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 883(@200wpm)___ 706(@250wpm)___ 589(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 176552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 883(@200wpm)___ 706(@250wpm)___ 589(@300wpm)
“Look who finally decided to join the party.”
“We weren’t that far behind you.” I passed him, heading straight for the Genesis’ trunk.
The second I popped the latch, a weak groan spilled out. DeAndre looked halfway to dead already, sunken eyes barely tracking movement, mouth slack and crusted with blood. I grabbed him by the collar and yanked his ass out. He hit the ground, grunting as his shoulder slammed against the gravel.
“Damn,” Cade muttered, stepping up beside me. “He looks worse than the last time we saw him.” He turned to Nick. “Your handiwork?”
“I had to.”
DeAndre didn’t even try to get away. He had no fight left, nothing but a broken body waiting to see how long it could hold on. Cade and I each took an arm and dragged him toward the edge. Nick flicked on his phone’s flashlight, casting the beam down the steep, jagged slope.
“Same plan as usual?” he asked.
“Same plan,” I confirmed.
We hauled DeAndre upright. He trembled like a leaf, teeth chattering, tears cutting through the dried blood and grime on his face.
“Please,” he rasped, voice barely more than a breath.
Cade and I locked eyes.
Then we let go
His hoarse scream echoed as his body went over the edge, bouncing off rocks on the way down. A distant splash followed, the sound of him hitting the lake at the bottom. The same lake locals warned their kids to stay away from because it was essentially a sinkhole full of water.
Just like that, he was gone.
Nick let out a deep sigh, still holding the flashlight toward the now-still water. “Man, if he could swim before, he sure as shit can’t now.”
Cade chuckled. “Not with that leg.”
“You think he screamed loud enough for Kyle to hear him in hell?” Nick asked jokingly.
“If he didn’t hear him, he heard Lindsey,” Rook’s voice carried to us as he emerged from the trees. He was shirtless, wearing the gloves I’d given him, a pair of sweats, boots, and nothing else. Blood streaked across his arms and chest, half-dried and blending into the ink carved into his skin. Without breaking stride, he launched something over the quarry’s edge. Too small to see or hear when it landed.
Cade arched a brow. “Feel better?”
Rook stretched his neck and let out a breath. “Feel like I need a shower.”
Nick peered around with his flashlight. “What’d you just throw?”
“Ear,” Rook said simply.
Nick nodded. “Oh. Of course.”
I couldn’t help it, I laughed. My brother held out a hand, and Rook bumped his knuckles without hesitation.
“So he’s down there?” Rook asked, glancing out at the water.
“Somewhere,” Cade answered with a shrug. “Drowning, if he hasn’t already.”
Rook tilted his head, thoughtful. “If we keep dumping bodies in this lake, Hemlock’s gonna turn into that town from Cabin Fever.”
Nick turned, squinting at him. “What the hell was in that joint you smoked?”
“Just think about how many ghosts are down there now, how still the water stays, no matter how much we feed it.”
Cade laughed. “Okay, Poe.” He clapped Rook on the shoulder. “You paint one hell of a picture.”
I let them talk, slipping my hand into my pocket for my phone so that I could check the time. When I unlocked the screen, a few unread messages waited. Only one mattered right then.
Sass
Goodnight.
My thumb hovered over the word, brushing the screen like I could reach through it and feel her on the other side. I texted her back and then looked out at the water. It was a fitting end in the same place she kissed me all those months ago. One kiss turned into many soft and sudden, born from some stupid online challenge.
She hadn’t expected me to kiss her back.
She definitely hadn’t expected me to take control.
I remembered the way her breath hitched when my hand slid to her jaw. The way her lips parted like she was about to say my name, then didn’t.
Fuck, how I wanted her.
I wanted to drag her over the console, press her down until the only thing she could feel was me, and she forgot the world outside my truck. She had wound up on my lap instead.
I could’ve done whatever I wanted to her, but it always came down to knowing the timing wasn’t right, and I refused to risk her even attempting to mistake what we were because of that moment. I let her pull away, laughing it off and pretending I didn’t see her trying not to panic like it wasn’t gutting me. I’d replayed that moment more times than I’d ever admit. Sometimes I drove out here late at night just to sit where it happened, thinking and remembering. I could see why she loved this place, the way the sky made everything else feel small, and starlight danced across the lake below. When she was with me, I didn’t watch the stars. I watched her. Always her.