Adam Kunz - One Tiny Secret

Never underestimate the power of a secret.

One Tiny Secret Adam Kunz

For my family, who have never stopped believing in me, and have always encouraged me to follow my dreams.

Acknowledgements First and foremost I’d like to thank my mom for jumping head first with me into the wonderful world of Independent Publishing. She’s been a real trooper for putting up with me through this whole process, and I can’t thank her enough for sticking it out. We’ve had an absolute blast writing together, and I wouldn’t change it for the world. Huge thanks should go to Sarah Hansen at Okay Creations for designing an absolutely stunning cover for this book. You’ve seriously given me something very gorgeous and breathtaking to put on display, and I can’t thank you enough! I am proud to have your cover represent this book. A tremendous thank you should go to our ever-so-awesome street team, The Book Cartel. You’re our A-list supporters, awesome friends, and super dedicated readers. I’m truly grateful for

6/494

all of your assistance throughout this whole process. Much love and big hugs! Very special thanks to the wonderful editor, Hollie Westring. I absolutely adore you and all you did to help clean up my writing! You have definitely made this book much more polished and refined. An extra special thanks goes to Tiffany King, Raine Thomas (The Red Queen is now my loving nickname for you, hahaha!), Mindy Fangedmom Janicke, Jenese Leon, Autumn (from The Autumn Review), Charlie Steffy, Matthew Boggs, and Aurore Scordino for being a part of my allstar group of beta readers. You ladies and gentlemen are just too amazing for words, seriously! I also want to thank EVERY SINGLE author, reader, blogger, and friend that has been so incredibly supportive of me and my love of writing (you all know who you are). You all mean the world to me, and I can’t even express in words how much I appreciate all of you!

7/494

Thanks to you, the readers, for taking a chance on this book. By performing this simple act you are helping me make a lifelong dream come true, and you have no idea how much that means to me. Finally, I cannot forget to thank all of my wonderful family and friends. Your love and support keep me always moving forward, and for this I am eternally grateful. Thanks dpgroup forum.

Table of Contents Title Page Copyright Page Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17

9/494

Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 Chapter 35 Epilogue About The Author

Chapter One “Perfect,” I say aloud as I finish the final touches on the flyer for the Halloween party this weekend. Leaning back against the pile of comfy pillows gathered behind me, I admire my work. A smile creeps across my face because of the fact I went with my gut and used the classic color scheme of an orange background with black writing. SHRIEK & HOWL HALLOWEEN BASH WHEN: This Saturday night! WHERE: If you don’t already know, YOU’RE NOT INVITED! WHY: Do you really need a reason? You know the deal: full-on kegger, epic food spread, and best of all…NO ADULTS!

11/494

DON’T FORGET TO WEAR A COSTUME…THIS IS YOUR ONLY WARNING!!! And remember, destroy all evidence of this flyer after reading it, or you’ll get one big-ass trick instead of a treat. The door to my room abruptly swings open, and startles me while I’m busy proofreading the flyer. My dad stands there, still in uniform, with a tattered cardboard box in his arms. I can clearly read my horrible handwriting on the side of the box in thick black marker: Dani’s Stuff. He seems annoyed, and I’m pretty sure I know why. “Uh, knocking would’ve been nice,” I huff as I quickly close my laptop. The last thing I need is my father, the sheriff, seeing what I’m working on. I’d be grounded for life if he found out that his daughter is helping promote such a prolific party. One that has him and his deputies

12/494

searching all night in order to bust, but they never find it. “Sorry, but you promised me you’d go through this stuff, and then donate anything you didn’t need anymore. I’m tired of tripping over it downstairs,” he replies, sounding a little irritated. “I’ll get to it.” “That’s what you said three weeks ago. And yet, here I am, after almost breaking my neck from stumbling over this box again, because it was still in the same place when you last told me you’d get to it. Dani, you’re eighteen years old now. I shouldn’t have to ask you a million times to do something,” he argues, and then sets the box on the floor next to my bed. “Here, let me help move the process along.” He begins to pull open one of the flaps on the box, but I put my hand over it and push it back down. “I’ll look through it right after I’m finished with what I’m doing, okay?” He sends me a glare. “Scout’s honor?”

13/494

“Scout’s honor,” I reply after rolling my eyes. He lets out a subtle chuckle and places a kiss on my forehead. As he begins to pull away, I notice his focus shifts to the side of my face. “I see you’re wearing the skull-and-crossbones earrings your mom sent you,” he comments while positioning my earlobe so he can see the earring better. “Yeah, I thought I’d get into the Halloween spirit.” I see the sadness enter his eyes the moment he mentions Mom. They went through a rocky divorce almost a year ago after she decided to run off with someone much younger and not so super committed to his job. I still love her, but I hate what she did. The whole way she went about it was just all kinds of shitty. When it was all said and done, I decided to stay in Holden Ridge with my dad, since Mom seemed fixated on a sex romp with her hunky little boy toy. I didn’t really feel like changing schools during my senior year anyway. Besides, my father’s a really great guy

14/494

when he wants to be and not too much of a pain in the ass to live with, faults and all. “Hey, speaking of Halloween, how about we put up the decorations tomorrow? I know it’s a little late, and you usually did that with your mother, but—” “I’d like that,” I reply, surprising him. He smiles. “Good. Tomorrow it is then.” I nod and watch him stroll toward the door. He turns back around and looks like he wants to say something. “Yeah, Dad?” I ask, trying to help him along. He hesitates. “You haven’t by any chance heard rumblings about a party going on this weekend, have you?” “Nope. I’m not really in that crowd, you know that.” “Huh. Well, can you do me a favor and keep an ear out?” “Will do,” I reply, feeling bad that I just flatout lied.

15/494

Once he leaves and shuts the door behind him, I open my laptop to find the flyer’s still there. It glares back at me, almost as if to say, “How could you lie to your father?” After I hit save, I close the file and put it out of my mind. I reach for the TV remote on the nightstand next to my bed and press the power button. The iconic theme song for the movie Halloween flows through my room as it turns on, and I grin since it’s one of my all-time favorites. My attention is suddenly drawn to my cell phone lying next to me on the bed as it pings, signaling an incoming notification. Unlocking the phone, I see the little Facebook icon at the top of the screen and swipe my finger down it to reveal the notifications’ menu. Under the icon is a little message that says I have a friend request waiting for my approval, but leaves off the name. Before I have a chance to see who sent the request, my eyes dart over to the window when I hear a faint sound. My mind immediately thinks it’s just some branches from the trees outside

16/494

brushing up against the house, but the little voice at the back of my head has other ideas. I push the thought away and refocus on the phone in my hands. The strange noise grows louder, almost as if in protest of me trying to ignore it. Putting the phone and laptop onto the nightstand, I slowly raise myself from the reclining position and slide off the side of the bed. The wooden floor feels cold the moment my bare feet touch down, causing goose bumps to form all over my legs. I immediately leap into my slippers to ward off the sudden chill. I hear the sound again, but this time it’s even louder and more distinct. It’s definitely coming from the window. From a distance, I peer outside and see the large trees in our side yard swaying eerily in the night breeze. “It has to be the trees making that noise,” I tell myself. My focus is so concentrated on the window that I jump and let out a gasp when someone screams on the TV.

17/494

“Dammit, I really need to stop watching these movies at night,” I mutter with a nervous laugh. The scratching sounds again, pulling my gaze back outside. I hesitantly make my way over to the window, the entire time listening to the unnerving theme music playing in the background. I should have turned the damn TV off. Standing in front of the window, I look around outside for any sign of what could be causing the noise. There’s a branch from one of the large trees lodged in the lattice fence, scaling up the side of the house, that’s brushing up against the window. As I unlatch it and slide it open, I’m immediately enveloped in a gust of frigid wind, causing me to shudder. I regain my composure and slowly reach out to dislodge the branch. The moment I do, a hand shoots out of the darkness and grabs my arm. “Boo!” A scream erupts through my lips, and I hear laughter sound below me. I can barely make out the features of my two best friends who are there

18/494

hanging out on the lattice, but I know it’s them. I want to slap the grins off their faces, but instead find myself laughing off the rush of fear. Breaking free of Rory’s grip on my wrist, I playfully glare at him, and he resorts to sending me puppy-dog eyes, complete with a pouty lip. “I can’t believe you two. You scared the shit out of me,” I whisper harshly, hoping my father didn’t hear me scream. “Sorry, but I couldn’t resist,” Rory laughs. “It’s Halloween. Everyone’s entitled to one good scare, right?” Alex quotes from the movie Halloween with a menacing smile after hearing the music in the background. “Ha, very funny. Now get your asses in here already before you break something.” “All right, Miss Bossy,” I hear Rory say as I help pull him up with some assistance from his belt loops. Alex follows in closely behind him. Rory flops down on my bed face-first and lets out a contented sigh. “So comfy,” is all he says. He begins to do a reverse snow angel on my

19/494

sheets by moving his arms and legs back and forth. “Hey, no shoes on the bed,” I reprimand, swatting at his red Converse. “Easy, I paid a good thirty bucks for these babies,” he complains jokingly while trying to nudge away my hand with his foot. I laugh off his comment and take a seat next to Alex at the foot of the bed. “So rumor has it you and your band are playing at Gunnar’s party this weekend.” “Yep, you heard right,” Alex replies with a little less enthusiasm than I expect. “What? Aren’t you excited? This is Gunnar Benson’s party.” “Oh, she’s excited all right. But it’s the costume she has to wear for the show that has her panties all in a bunch,” Rory chimes in. “I really dislike you sometimes,” Alex says to Rory, who just smirks at her. “The costume can’t be that bad. It’s not like they’re going to make you wear one of those

20/494

black spandex skeleton costumes or something, right?” I ask. Alex goes quiet and sends me a look of what I think is shock mixed with a tiny bit of disgust. “Wait…they’re actually going to make you wear that?” “It sucks so much ass—you have no idea. Do you realize what this will look like in spandex?” she whines, motioning to her figure, which, for the record, is thin and only slightly curvy. I can’t help but laugh the moment Rory begins to. Alex swiftly gives both of us love taps and then sulks before face-planting into the comforter. “It’s not funny, guys.” “Uh, yeah, it kind of is,” Rory comments and then receives another slap on the leg. “Oh, speaking of costumes, what are you going as, Dani?” “Little Red.” “Ah, how classic of you. So, will this be oldschool Little Red, or Red with a sexy twist?” he queries with a mischievous grin. “I guess you’ll just have to wait and see now, won’t you?”

21/494

“I bet you’re going as naughty Red,” Alex interjects while pushing my shoulder. I giggle and notice Rory’s attention has shifted to the cardboard box on the floor. “What’s all this stuff?” he asks, holding up some of my childhood things he’s drawn from the box. One of the items, a walkie-talkie, immediately catches my attention. A specific moment from my past involving that very device begins to seep into my mind. I shake the memory away. “When did you get so nosey?” I ask before grabbing the walkie-talkie from him. “He’s gay. He can’t help it, remember?” Alex states dryly. “Hey, I resemble that remark,” Rory interjects while poking Alex with the tip of his shoe. I laugh. “Oh, yeah, how could I forget that little detail?” As I stare down at the little hand radio resting in my lap, the memories begin to invade again. Long after my bedtime, I used to chat with my

22/494

neighbor, and once best friend, Janice, on this thing. We’d sit by our bedroom windows and stare out at each other and talk for hours. We’d chat about pretty much anything and everything. Janice used to get picked on relentlessly throughout most of elementary and middle school, which is why her mom pulled her out of the system and banished her to homeschool. Unfortunately, it only succeeded in alienating her even more. I vividly remember the day when her mother went all Carrie’s mom on me and called me a heathen and a bad influence on her daughter. She even banned Janice from ever hanging out with me again. Even though we’re still nextdoor neighbors, I rarely see Janice anymore. “Earth to Dani,” Rory jokes, breaking into my thoughts. “You went all comatose on us for a second there while staring at that thing.” “Oh, sorry. Got distracted, I guess.” “I’ll say. Care to share?” Alex asks, giving me a little nudge.

23/494

“There’s not really much to share. This,” I say holding up the walkie, “is just something I used to mess around with. It’s nothing, really.” “Uh-huh,” Alex says, clearly not convinced. I roll my eyes and hand the walkie-talkie back to Rory so that he can put it, and the rest of the stuff he took out, back in the box. “So, not to be rude or anything, but what exactly are you two doing here?” “Truthfully?” Alex asks. “Truthfully.” “To, uh, copy your Algebra homework,” she says sheepishly. “Really?” Alex nods with pitiful pleading eyes. I give her a withering stare. “Top right drawer of my desk. Red notebook. Just make sure I get it back tomorrow before school, all right?” Alex squeals as she wraps her arms around my neck. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she says repeatedly in my ear. “I owe you, big time.” She jumps from the bed toward the desk and I

24/494

turn to look at Rory. As I send him an interrogative look, he seems to know exactly what I’m about to ask. “Don’t look at me in that tone of voice. I just came here to chaperone Miss I-can’t-do-my-ownwork,” he says while putting his hands up, showing innocence. “Hey, I’ve only done this like three times so far this year,” I hear Alex state as she plops back down next to me. Rory laughs. “Yeah, but the year just started.” “Irrelevant,” she says, intently flipping through the notebook. “All right you guys, it’s late, and I, unlike some people, have work to do.” Alex thanks me again before heading out the window and Rory follows quickly after. When I glance up after watching the two of them scale down the lattice fence, I see that Janice’s window curtain is closed, but the light in her room is casting a gentle, eerie silhouette against it. As the light turns off, the silhouette disappears. I sigh,

25/494

thinking back to when Janice and I were younger. It’s sad that we haven’t talked in forever, especially since we live right next door to each other. A feeling of guilt flows over me as I shut the window before heading back to my bed. Taking off my slippers, I slide under the covers to warm up. As I go to reach for my laptop, my phone chimes again. Unlocking the screen, I find that it’s just reminding me of the unchecked Facebook friend request. Tapping the Facebook icon, I wait for the page to load. Being on the outskirts of town really sucks for reception and Internet. My eyes grow wide with surprise and my heart stutters as I see the picture and name of the person who sent me the request. “Parker Reed?” The moment that name leaves my lips, I feel a tingling sensation course throughout my entire body. The last time I saw his face was a little more than two years ago, when I was massively making out with it.

26/494

I used to be attached at the hip and utterly inseparable from his stepsister, Phoebe. Our bestfriendship was rocked by my little…well, I wouldn’t call it “little”…fling with Parker. I found it really hard to keep my relationship with Parker from her, and it made some of our sleepovers quite awkward, especially when he’d text me sweet little messages before bed. When Phoebe eventually found out, I was so worried that I’d lose my best friend. We still hadn’t made up by the time Parker split for California, and it killed me not to be able to seek comfort from her since she’s someone I cared a lot about. Thankfully, Phoebe and I were able to keep our friendship intact even after what happened. I let my phone’s screen fade to black without clicking accept or ignore to the request, and then place it down by my side. I let out a heavy sigh as I think back to the night Parker and I first kissed. He was a senior and I was a freshman. I pretty much had a crush on him my entire post-

27/494

pubescent life, and that crush was firmly cemented the moment our lips locked. “No…you’ve got to snap out of this, Dani!” I groan. “You can’t eff things up with Phoebe again.” I shut off the TV and flip the switch on my bedside lamp, plunging the room into darkness. The only source of light is from the street lamp outside, shining through my window. While patting the pillows behind me, trying to fluff them into the perfect pile, thoughts of Parker keep flooding my head. I was going to try and get some more work done tonight, but there’s no damn way I’ll be able to concentrate with him on the brain. I should hate him for just up and leaving the freakin’ state for college without even so much as a goodbye, but here I am, thinking about how much I want to trace his perfect jawline with my hand while sucking face. I toss and turn until I flop over onto my back, staring up at the ceiling. “Damn you, Parker Reed. Damn you and your damn friend request,”

28/494

I mutter under my breath, succumbing to the realization that I was in for a long night of no sleep.

Chapter Two The smell of a freshly brewed pot of French roast coffee pulls me from a dream I don’t want to awaken from. And yes, it was about Parker. The strong French roast means one of two things. Either my dad spent the entire night thinking about Mom and needs the good stuff to get him motivated, or he spent a good portion of the night actually talking to her and needs a swift kick in the ass. I stretch and release a yawn, fighting to stay in bed as long as I can. My alarm hasn’t even gone off yet, and I turn to look at the clock. I’ve technically still got two minutes of sleep left. “Screw it,” I say as I fling back the covers and sit up in bed, realizing I’ll get nothing out of those last two minutes. “Dani, breakfast will be in five,” I hear my Dad call up the stairs.

30/494

“Breakfast? On a Friday? Oh Dad, you really must have put yourself through the wringer this time,” I whisper to myself. I’m not even sure I want to go downstairs at this point, because I’m kind of scared to see him like this. It dawns on me that their divorce anniversary is coming up soon, and that’s probably why he’s been in such rare form lately. He’s been working a lot more than usual, and sometimes I feel he forgets that he has a daughter at home waiting for him. I just hope he snaps out of it soon, because I’m starting to miss the dad he used to be. “Be right down,” I call back. I notice the clothes I picked out last night hanging on the back of my bedroom door, and my nose scrunches up. “Was I drunk when I picked these out?” I ask myself, examining my failed attempt at making an outfit. Scrapping the entire ensemble, I pick out new clothes from the closet and hurry to the bathroom.

31/494

Before jumping into the shower, I stop in front of the vanity mirror that’s outlined with tiny, round light bulbs, and examine my bloodshot eyes. My poor green beauties are surrounded by a ring of red, causing them to look like Christmas ornaments. The bags under them serve even more as a reminder that my current lack of sleep is caused by, one, Parker Reed. I practically run down the stairs to the kitchen after my shower. I lost track of time while standing in the calming warm water, still thinking of he who shall not be named. When I enter the kitchen, my dad’s sitting at the small table next to the window, still in his comfy pajamas and flipping through the daily paper. “How’d you sleep, kiddo?” he asks, peering over the paper. “I could ask you the same thing,” I reply, looking him up and down. “And why aren’t you in your uniform yet?”

32/494

He laughs. “I was getting there. I just wanted to relax with the paper and some coffee first.” “Some coffee?” I ask him pointedly while gesturing to the more than half-empty pot. “I had a rough night last night and needed a little extra something to get me going today.” “And breakfast too? Eggs, bacon, and pancakes?” “Okay, make that a really rough night.” I make up a plate of food and pour myself a cup of joe before joining him at the table. “Oh…Kevin just called from the shop. Your car will be ready for pick-up after school. And you were right. It was your spark plugs.” “I told you, I know my girl,” I say, and my dad lets out a slight chuckle. I’ve had my car for about three years now, and someone had her for eighteen years before me. I absolutely love that blue POS and every single one of her dents. I call them her beauty marks. She gets me from point A to point B, and that’s all I need. My dad wants me to get rid of

33/494

her, but I think she’ll last me at least through the end of the school year. “Weren’t you and Kevin dating or something?” he asks, catching me off-guard. “Dad, seriously? Kevin and I are just friends. We never dated…ever. And since when are you keeping tabs on my love life?” “Oh, so you have a love life now, huh?” he inquires with a smirk. “You know what I meant.” “Hey, I’m just trying to talk with my daughter. Is that okay? Your mom did have the talk with you, right?” “Oh my God, we’re so not discussing this right now,” I state while pouring syrup over my pancakes. “I’m just making sure. You don’t have to get all embarrassed,” he says, turning his attention back to the paper in his hands. “Well, she did. So you don’t have to worry about that, okay?”

34/494

He laughs while rustling open the next page. “Thank God, because I wasn’t prepared for that can of worms. Are you sure you and Kevin never dated?” “Yes, I’m sure,” I reply with a hint of irritation. I can practically hear his grin from behind the newspaper. He always knows how to push my buttons. “Hey, I meant to tell you earlier, but I really like your hair cut like that,” he comments, folding down the corner of the paper so he can look at me. “I know your mom loves when it’s long, but that style suits you. And I don’t care what anyone says. You don’t look like a boy.” “Dad!” I reply, feeling a little self-conscious as I run my fingers through my short wavy blonde hair. “Just kidding. In all seriousness, I do like it.” “Thanks, but you know my hair’s been this way for more than a week now, right?”

35/494

“I know. Like I said, I’ve been meaning to tell you. And I also see you’re still wearing those earrings.” “I can take them off if you don’t like them,” I say softly. “No…keep them on. I like them. ’Tis the season anyway, right?” he replies with a half-smile. My phone vibrates on the table and I check it to see a text message from Rory asking if he needs to pick me up. The next message that follows is from him as well, saying that he’s already outside. I giggle to myself because HURRY UP is in all caps. “Do you need a ride to school?” my dad asks, interrupting my musings. “As much as I’d love to be chauffeured in that wonderful sheriff’s car of yours—which, by the way, draws no attention whatsoever—I’m going to have to pass. Besides, Rory’s already outside waiting.” I scarf down the rest of the food on my plate and go to take a sip of the coffee. I have to stop

36/494

because it’s so freakin’ strong. I practically spit it out the moment it touches my lips. Even though I added a ton of creamer and sugar, it still isn’t enough to take away the intense coffee flavor. “Damn, Dad. What did you put in this?” “Like I said, I had a rough night. It might just be a tad stronger than usual.” I laugh. “Just a tad?” My phone goes off again and that’s my cue to leave. I give my dad a quick peck on the cheek and head for the foyer. “Have a great day. Make good choices,” I hear him say as I fling open the front door. “Will do,” I reply before leaving the house. Rory is standing by the passenger side of his car with the door open, motioning for me to get in. He has his “butch” black-and-purple lumberjack flannel on with the sleeves rolled up and a pair of black denim jeans. The purple Converse shoes add the final touch. I can’t really knock the guy’s style because I’m sure if he wasn’t gay, he’d be quite the chick magnet. His swimmer’s

37/494

bod would definitely help. I’ve lost count of how many girls have asked me if I’m sure he bats for the other team. “Will you hurry your ass up? Your chariot’s waiting,” he jokes, exaggeratedly gesturing to the open door. “Such a gentleman you are,” I reply, pinching his left cheek and then tapping it before settling into the car. “I try,” I hear him say as he closes the door. I notice that a certain someone isn’t in the back seat. “Hey, where’s Alex?” “She said she wasn’t feeling up to school today,” he chuckles. “She did give me this to give back to you, though.” Rory hands me my Algebra notebook and I send him a questioning look. “Let me guess…she got drunk last night during band rehearsal and didn’t have time to copy my homework. She’s hung over, isn’t she?” “Maybe,” he replies. “I swear. That girl’s something else.”

38/494

“What do you expect? She’s the pastor’s daughter. She’s got ‘wild child’ blood coursing through her veins,” he says, putting the car in drive and pulling away from my house.

There’s always been one thing I’ve never been able to stand about high school: the sound of the damn tardy bell. I’m pretty sure there’s never been anything more annoying. Luckily, I have independent study first thing in the morning. I just ignore the bell altogether as I stroll in sipping my grande pumpkin spice latte. I had to succumb to buying my own cup after the travesty that was my dad’s brew earlier. The sight of Gunnar Benson running down the hall toward me catches my attention. A lot of girls would probably freeze up at the sight of him, but not me. I just continue sipping my coffee while taking in the show. Sure, he’s the complete package, but I like my guys to be a little rougher around the edges. Gunnar’s too perfect.

39/494

With his pristinely combed blond hair and his allAmerican boy fashion sense, he’s kind of like a walking Abercrombie and Fitch ad or something. The huge grin on his face, reminds me of the Cheshire Cat from Alice in Wonderland. It can only mean one thing: he loves the flyer. The moment he found out I was a “Photoshop genius” (his words, not mine), I had the pleasure of designing it for him. All I did was make him look good in one picture in the school’s newspaper featuring his winning touchdown. After that, he wanted me to edit everything for him. He even went to the paper’s faculty advisor, Mr. Whitman, and requested that I be the only one overseeing the photos for the entire football team. Little did he know, I already do that. The newspaper staff isn’t really all that big, after all. “You seem to be in a good mood, Gunnar,” I greet him. “Yep, and it’s all thanks to you. I got your email this morning, and the flyer looks legit.

40/494

They’ve already been printed and distributed. Thanks again for doing that last minute.” “No problem. But remember, if things go south, I had nothing to do with that flyer or this party, okay?” He lets out a little laugh. “Just as we agreed.” “Good.” “See you tomorrow?” he asks with inflection and a smile. “Wouldn’t miss it,” I reply, smiling back. As Gunnar continues down the hall, I notice a small group of girls standing off to the side next to a row of lockers, all of them glaring at me. Uhoh, looks like my little chat stirred up some trouble in girl world. “Hey, Dani,” I hear one of the girls, Portia, call out to me when I pass. Her voice is laced with cattiness and sarcasm. I’ve never understood girls like her. Deciding to be the bigger person, I stop, turn to face her, and reply, “Hi, Portia.”

41/494

An odd silence falls between us, almost like she wasn’t expecting me to answer her. “So,” I add, “are you going to the party tomorrow?” “And what party would that be?” she drawls. Realizing I’m going to get nowhere with this conversation, I say, “Right. I’ve got to get to class. See you later.” “Laters,” she replies while twirling a lock of her bright red curly hair around her finger. I hate to say it, but she fits the stereotype for every mean girl who’s ever walked the halls of a high school. I hear the chatter between the group behind me as I walk away. It sounds like a bunch of hens fighting over some chicken feed, accented by popping bubble gum sounds. Portia’s probably just irked because all it took for me to get the attention of the “it” guy at school was making a cool flyer, whereas she’s been trying everything in her bag of tricks to get him to notice her for years.

42/494

The door to Mr. Whitman’s office is closed, which is strange because he has an open-door policy. Besides, he’s usually expecting me for my independent study. I knock and hear some scurrying around on the other side. His muffled voice sounds through the door. “Come in.” As I open it, I see him positioned behind his desk. A woman sits in one of the two chairs across from him. She turns to look at me and smiles when I enter the room. “Ah, Dani. Perfect timing. This is Mrs. Summerton. She’s the head of the journalism department at Blackburn University,” Mr. Whitman says, motioning in her direction. Mrs. Summerton stands and reaches her hand out for mine. “Mr. Whitman’s told me so much about you, Dani. To be honest, he’s been talking my ear off,” she says playfully as I shake her hand.

43/494

Mr. Whitman laughs. “Guilty as charged. Dani is one of my best pupils, and I honestly believe she’s a perfect fit for your program, Gloria.” “I have no doubt, Harry. I can’t wait to read her admissions essay.” She sends me another smile. “Especially if she’s as good a writer as you’ve built her up to be.” “Oh, she is, I assure you,” Mr. Whitman replies. “Well, it was a pleasure to meet you, Dani. I look forward to hopefully sending you an acceptance letter.” “Thank you, Mrs. Summerton. I look forward to receiving that letter,” I say, reciprocating her smile. As she begins to leave the room, I turn to Mr. Whitman with a look of surprise plastered across my face. He beams with delight, and I’m pretty sure he’s thinking the same thing I am. “You’re a shoo-in,” he says after he’s sure Mrs. Summerton has left.

44/494

“Thank you so much for pulling some strings, Mr. Whitman. I really hope I do get in.” “Have you given any thought to what your essay will be about?” he asks, leaning back in his chair. “I have a few ideas, but haven’t really settled on one just yet.” “Submissions are due by December at the latest, so I’d get working on something soon,” he states with a serious face. “I will, don’t worry. I’ll have something concrete by the end of the weekend,” I reply. “See that you do, because you don’t want to squander this opportunity.” “I won’t, promise.”

Chapter Three Sitting in the waiting room of the auto shop after school, I find myself unable to take my eyes off the friend request that Parker sent me. I still haven’t clicked accept or ignore, and frankly I’m getting tired of thinking about it. In my mind, there’s a lot riding on this decision. On one hand, if I click accept, Phoebe will see that in her feed, and I don’t even want to imagine what would happen then. But if I click ignore, then I’ll be saying that I don’t care for Parker, which really isn’t true. Yes, there’s resentment there, but unfortunately, other emotions are also present. “Dani, Lexi’s ready. I wanted to give her another quick check…on the house, of course,” Kevin says with a grin, drawing my gaze to him instead of my phone. Yes, I named my car Lexi. I just said it one day and the name stuck.

46/494

“Thanks, Kevin. You always treat my girl so well.” Kevin and I have known each other for as long as I can remember. He was a part of my original trio, which included Janice. We kind of drifted apart after Janice was taken out of school. There was also an awkward moment when he confessed his love for me in the eighth grade. Though I did love Kevin, I could never say that I was in love with him. It sucked to have to tell him that, and I kind of regret how I did it, because we didn’t talk for, like, a whole year afterwards. I’m glad that things have settled into a more comfortable place between us. Kevin’s a great guy. “No problem. It’s the least I can do,” he replies. “Besides, it’s not like I get to work on a nineteen ninety Honda Prelude every day,” he continues. I giggle. “Hush your face. Lexi may be old, but she’s a classy gal. She just needs a little TLC every once in a while.”

47/494

“Riiiight. Well, your dad already took care of the bill, so here you go.” He hands the keys over to me. “She’s out front if you want to go see her.” “Thanks. I think I will.” I run my fingertips along Lexi’s shiny(ish) blue hood before rushing to fling open the door and jump inside. Sticking the key in the ignition, I turn it, then smile when the engine starts up. “Ah, you’re a lifesaver, Kevin,” I exclaim, pounding on the steering wheel. “I was getting a little tired of my dad saying that it was time to let my girl go.” He laughs. “Well, maybe it is.” “Oh, no…not you too?” I groan. “Hey, I just call ’em like I see ’em. I haven’t seen anyone drive around a Prelude in a couple years. They’re kind of a dying breed, Dani.” “Well, Lexi gets me where I need to go, which is all that counts in my book,” I reply, turning my attention back to my car.

48/494

“Yep, and I guess I’ll keep fixing her,” he comments with a cheeky smirk. “She’s probably only got about two more years left in her, anyway.” “Okay, Dad,” I quip while rolling my eyes and closing the car door. He just laughs. “So, Dani?” I hear him ask through the closed window. “Yeah,” I reply, rolling it down. “Are you going to Gunnar’s party tomorrow?” “Shhh! Not so loud.” “Sorry. It’s the first time I’ve ever been invited. I didn’t realize there was a protocol.” “It’s okay. It’s my first time going too, but the party’s kind of a secret, and I’m trying to stay off my dad’s radar.” “Understood. Hey, I saw the flyer you made up. It looks awesome. But then again, you were always great with designing stuff like that.” “I’m going to kill Gunnar. He wasn’t supposed to tell anyone I did the flyer,” I whisper.

49/494

“He didn’t tell me. I knew just by looking. It had you written all over it.” “Oh...thanks. Hey, I’d better get going. I’m doing some last-minute Halloween decorating around the house with Pops, and I’m pretty sure if I’m not home soon, he’ll send out a search party.” I see the disappointment on his face because of my response and feel horrible about it. His light hazel eyes seem to lose a little of their luster, and I want to just give him a hug, but I don’t want to send any mixed signals. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?” he asks. “Yeah, definitely. I’ll be dressed as Little Red, in case you were wondering.” “Classic. I like it.” As I drive away, I see him in the rearview mirror watching me leave. The sight of him kicking around some dirt makes me feel worse about how I handled our little chat. It sucks when somebody likes you and you can’t like them back in that way. That’s probably why we haven’t

50/494

been hanging out as much as we used to. And things change when you go to high school…people change. To take my mind off Kevin, I roll down all the windows and turn up the radio while letting the cool fall air flow through the car. I love fall in the Northeast, especially while driving through the neighborhoods. People really go all out for Halloween. Our house, on the other hand, is the only one on our street not decorated yet. Halloween is only a week from tomorrow. To say the least, I feel ashamed. When I pull up to the house, my dad’s car isn’t in the driveway. He’s probably buried himself in work again at the station for the nth time this month. I bet he’s left me a note on the fridge and twenty bucks for a pizza. My father’s a creature of habit, which makes him easy to predict. I guess in some ways, that’s a good thing. I was right. I find twenty bucks and a piece of paper stuck to the fridge with a cute little happy face magnet. The note reads:

51/494

Had to go back into work. Will explain later. Sorry about the decorations. Pizza is on me. I notice several open boxes of Halloween decorations sitting on top of the kitchen table. I guess he made an attempt to decorate the house before he went back into work. I have this gut feeling that thoughts of Mom combined with those decorations were too much for him to handle. I begin to dig through the boxes, removing all the little knickknacks my mom collected over the years. As I start to place them around the house, I feel strange doing this all by myself. It just doesn’t feel right. A sense of apathy toward the whole thing suddenly hits me. “I think I need music,” I say. I remember that Dad connected our surround sound system to Pandora radio a couple of weeks ago, and decide to switch on the Halloween station. One of my favorite songs, Michael Jackson’s Thriller, comes through the speakers. “Ah, just what I needed.”

52/494

I’ll be honest…decorating while trying not to break out into the zombie dance is kind of killing me. I barely hear my phone ring over the music and rush to the kitchen counter where I left it. Just before I answer, the caller hangs up. The number comes up as unknown. They don’t leave a voicemail, so I assume it’s a wrong number. I set the phone down and head back into the living room to finish putting up the remainder of the decor. When I feel like I’m at a good stopping point, I take a little break. Collecting the twenty dollars from the fridge, I grab my phone and dial for pizza. I figure I’ve got at least twenty-five minutes to kill before the food arrives, so I decide to sort through the box of my old stuff upstairs. I know if I don’t go through it soon, Dad will keep pestering me about it until I do. There’s an old framed family photo on the wall right in front of me as I reach the top of the stairs. For the past year, every time I reach the

53/494

second floor, I stop right in this spot and just stare at it for a moment. It’s a reflection of what I believed was a happier time for our family, but now I’m pretty sure it’s just a constant reminder to my dad of Mom’s cheating. He claims he likes to keep it up because I look nice in the picture. Personally, I think he’s still in denial about the whole thing. Flopping down on my bed, I begin sifting through the open cardboard box sitting on the floor in front of the nightstand. Underneath some of my school stuff from middle school, I see the walkie-talkie again and take it out. As I begin to walk toward the window to look over at Janice’s room, I hit the switch on the side of the device to check if it still works. Nope, batteries must be dead. I turn it over and open the compartment where the batteries are housed to see what size it takes. AAA. Scurrying over to my desk where I sometime store batteries, I open the top left drawer. Sure enough, I find a package of AAAs. After

54/494

putting in the batteries, I hit the button on the side again and hear that old familiar electronic crackle sound. Oh, how I’ve missed that sound. I’m not sure why I even replaced the batteries. Janice’s walkie-talkie has to be dead by now too. Just for shits and giggles, I take a chance and talk into it. “Janice?” I try to remember the nicknames we used to call each other over this thing. It suddenly comes to me. “Marshmallow, this is Mint Chip. Over.” There’s no reply. “Well, I guess it was worth a shot,” I say, and toss the walkie on the bed. The doorbell chimes. My stomach grumbles in anticipation of the pizza waiting for me at the front door, and I hurry down the stairs to meet it. With the delivery guy paid and food in-hand, I run back up to my room to stuff my face. The moment I enter through the doorway, I hear a muffled static noise coming from the bed. I see the walkie-talkie lying there face-down. The

55/494

noise sounds again and I’m sure it came from the walkie this time. I put the pizza box on the desk and pick up the hand radio. Pressing the button, I talk into it. “Janice? Is that you?” There’s a moment of silence followed by another static noise. “Janice?” “Marshmallow here.” I run over to my window and look out across the way. She’s standing there with her curtain drawn, staring back. A smile lights up her face the moment she sees me. “Oh my God!” I exclaim. “How’ve you been? It’s been forever since we last talked. I wasn’t sure if your walkie was even still working.” “Mom told me that you never wanted to talk to me again. That’s why you haven’t heard from me,” she replies. “Why the hell did she tell you that? I never said anything even remotely close to that.” “Well, you know how she is. Actually, she’d probably kill me if she knew I was talking to you right now.”

56/494

“I’ve been wanting to apologize for how things went down between us. I’ve felt horrible ever since…” I trail off. After a moment, I continue, “You were my best friend, Janice.” “I know, Mint Chip. You can’t really blame yourself, though. My mom had a huge hand in this too. She’s had me locked up in here for what seems like forever, and to say the least, I think I’m getting cabin fever.” An idea enters my head the moment the words cabin fever leave her lips. “Hey, I know this is going to sound crazy, but there’s this Halloween party tomorrow night. Want to come?” “I don’t know, Dani. I’m not sure anyone other than you would want me there.” “Oh, come on. That’s so not true. It’ll be like old times. We’ll have lots of fun—promise. Kevin will even be there.” “Kevin? Wow, I haven’t seen him in a while. I’m still not sure, though. The old times weren’t always so great, Dani. That’s why I ended up homeschooled in the first place. And Mom really

57/494

hates everything about Halloween. Like I said earlier, she’d probably kill me for even talking to you right now. Imagine what she’d do if I snuck out to a party with you.” “I guess you’re right. Maybe we can start out with something a little lower key than a secret party.” After a long pause, she says, “Well, I guess I could just tell her I’m going to the library to read. I spend a lot of time there, anyway, so that might actually make for a good alibi.” I can almost hear the wheels in her head turning as she works out the scheme. “Wow, Janice. I didn’t know you could be such a rebel.” “Have you not heard what I’ve been saying? My mom is keeping me prisoner here, and I’m starting to go crazy. I’ll take any excuse to get away from here.” “Well, work out the details and let me know what you come up with, okay?” “We’ll talk later. I think I hear Mom coming up the stairs.”

58/494

“Over and out, Marshmallow,” I say. “Over and out, Mint Chip.”

Chapter Four So the lie is all set. I told my dad that after work today, I’m having a little late-night study session with Rory and Alex for a big test on Monday. I guess it’s not a total fib. We are going to be hanging out tonight, except it will be at a party, and we will most definitely not be studying. Unfortunately, I’m stuck at work for another three hours. It’s been slow today in the café area at the In the Stacks bookstore where I work. The hours seem like they’re dragging by while I sit behind the barista counter. Usually I’m on the floor, interacting with the customers and restocking the shelves with the newest releases, but today I’m trapped here watching the clock. All because Monica decided to call in sick. I swear, if I see her at the party tonight, I’m going to be so pissed.

60/494

“Hey, slacker. What does someone have to do in order to get some service around here?” I hear a familiar voice ask. Turning to look down the counter, I smile when I see Phoebe. My smile falters when her stepbrother, Parker, enters my mind. “Hi, stranger. What’s up?” I ask, trying to act inconspicuous. She laughs. “Not much. I was just on my way to the store down the street for a last-minute addition to my costume and thought I’d slip in to bug you.” “Aww, you really do care,” I joke. “Of course I do, silly.” “So, can I get you anything? On the house, perhaps?” I ask with an eyebrow raised. “Nah, I’m pretty well caffeinated already. I’ve had, like, two Red Bulls so far today. A coffee might just make my heart explode.” I laugh. “Yeah, smart choice.” “Oh, I completely forgot to tell you. Parker’s back in town. He transferred to Blackburn over

61/494

the summer and is finishing out his last year there,” Phoebe says. I’m not sure what to say. I would’ve never thought she’d give me updates on Parker…ever. Eventually, I respond with, “Really? That’s cool. I bet you guys are happy to have him back home. You must’ve missed him while he was in California.” I break eye contact with her while I wipe down the counter with a damp cloth. The last thing I want is for her to see the look in my eyes right now. This must’ve been why Parker sent the friend request. “He asked about you,” Phoebe says, and I start wiping down the counter even harder and more thoroughly. Could this conversation get any more awkward? “I told him that we made up. He was happy to hear that.” “That’s great,” I reply. “Hey, not to change the subject, but I kind of have a lot of work to get done before I head out tonight. Mind if we continue this convo a little later?”

62/494

She looks around and clearly sees there aren’t any customers to tend to. “Right. Sure. We’ll talk later.” “See you tonight,” I say as she begins to walk away. “Definitely,” she responds, looking over her shoulder. After watching her leave and hearing the chime of the front door open and close, I release the largest sigh I think I’ve ever let out. “What the hell was that all about?” I ask under my breath. But I couldn’t answer my own question.

“Later, Joan,” I call out to my boss after my shift. I remove my apron, place it in my cubbyhole, and head toward the front of the store. I hear her say goodbye just as I exit out the door. Running to my car, I jump in and start her up. I’m in a rush, anxious to beat my dad home. He’s supposed to be at the station until eight, so that

63/494

only gives me about an hour and half to get dressed and out the door. My eyes widen when I see his car in the driveway already. I hit the steering wheel in frustration and pull up to the curb next to the house. “Well, there goes that plan,” I grumble. While exiting the car, I see him coming through the front door. “I was just about to lock up and give you a call,” he says when he sees me. “Heading back into work, huh?” I comment while giving him a hug, hoping I don’t sound suspicious. “Yeah, just had to come home because I forgot my Maglite. It’s the perfect tool for searching out secret parties,” he teases. I laugh nervously. “Ah, I see. Good luck with that.” “Hey, how was work today?” he asks, thankfully changing the subject. “Slow and quiet.” “That’s all? Slow and quiet?”

64/494

“Yeah, pretty much. We did have an abnormal amount of people looking for books on the occult and ritual sacrifices, though.” “Really?” “No.” He chuckles. “All right, I’ve got to get back to work. Call me if you need anything, okay?” he says before placing a kiss on my forehead. “Will do.” “Oh, and have fun studying with Rory and Alex. You know, I’m so glad that you have good, stable friends who don’t party too much…even though Alex is in that silly band of hers,” my dad says as he opens his car door. I laugh nervously again and reply with, “I’ll try.” While watching him pull out of the driveway, I slowly begin to back up toward the front door, but keep my eyes glued to his cruiser. I know he’s going to roll down his window and wave goodbye to me. Like I said, he’s a creature of habit. The moment his vehicle disappears from

65/494

sight, I bolt through the door and up the stairs to my room. I dive into my closet and pull out the Little Red costume. After hanging it up on the hook affixed to the back of the bathroom door down the hall, I hurry back into my room to grab a red lacey bra and pair of panties from the dresser. I’m going to be sexy Little Red, after all. The moment I hear the crackle of the walkietalkie, I stop dead in my tracks and run over to pick it up. I hear Janice’s voice come through. “Mint Chip, this is Marshmallow. Are you there?” “I’m here, Janice. So, are you coming tonight?” I ask, making my way over to the window in order to see her across the way. The curtain is pulled back slightly, allowing me to see her face as she talks. “It was easy to convince my mom, which is strange. She usually grills me about everything. She completely bought the whole library thing,”

66/494

Janice replies. She speaks in a quiet voice and I assume her mom’s nearby. “Oh—do you by any chance have a costume? It’s kind of a requirement for tonight.” “That’s where we may have an issue. Mom hates Halloween, remember? So no costumes in the house,” she answers, sounding defeated. “Hold on a sec,” I tell her, and set down the walkie. I hear her respond, “Okay” as I move over to the closet. I sift through the back of my wardrobe in an attempt to find a costume I wore two years ago. Janice is about my size, so anything could work. “Yes,” I exclaim when I find the costume. I pick up the walkie-talkie. “What’s your opinion on the Bride of Frankenstein?” I ask, examining the skimpy white gauzy dress and tall black and white wig that’s been preserved in a plastic bag. “Indifferent, why?” “Well, I think I have the perfect costume for you tonight,” I reply with a smirk. “All right,

67/494

leave your house in about thirty minutes for the library. I’ll pick you up on the way. Sound like a plan?” “Sounds good. See you soon,” she replies, and I hear the eagerness in her voice. I head back to the bathroom to finish getting ready. I want to be gone soon in case my dad decides to pay me a surprise check-in visit. Fully dressed in my Little Red costume, I lock up the house and hurry out to my car. I opt for my red Converse sneakers instead of my glossy red pumps, because I know with my luck, I’d probably bust my ass running across the gravel path in the front yard if I wore the heels. After throwing my picnic basket, containing the sexy Bride of Frankenstein costume into the back seat, I start the car and pull away from the curb. Passing by Janice’s house, I slow down. I see her mom, Hattie, tending to the hedgerow that separates our houses. Her focus hones in on me and a glare appears on her face. I dodge it and

68/494

switch my attention to the road ahead as I speed up. “Wow, she must really hate me,” I murmur. After driving a few blocks, I see Janice walking down the sidewalk toward the library. I honk my horn and she stops, turning around to face the car. She raises her hand and brushes the long, wind-blown strands of her light brown hair behind her ear. A huge smile shows on her face as she waves at me. “Hop in,” I call out of the open passenger window. “I can’t believe I’m doing this. This is so crazy. My mom will destroy me if she finds out,” Janice states while settling into the car. “It’s not too late to change your mind if you don’t feel up to it,” I comment, throwing the car into park in case she has a change of heart. “No, it’s cool. Just pre-party jitters, I guess. Did you bring the costume?” “Yep. It’s in the basket back there,” I reply, pointing to the back seat.

69/494

Janice grabs the basket and opens it in her lap. Pulling the garment out, she says, “Wow. This is hardly what I’d consider clothing.” I laugh. “Yeah, it’s a little skimpy, but I figured you could make a statement with it. You know, show those jerks who gave you a hard time that you’re not messing around. And if you get cold, I’ve got a jacket in there you can borrow.” She sends me a look that I’m pretty sure is one of uncertainty. She starts to bite her lower lip like she’s mulling over the decision to wear the costume. “You sure this is a good idea?” “Of course it is. I don’t even think people will recognize you tonight,” I reply with a grin. “All right, you’ve convinced me. Let’s do this,” she says. “I only see one little issue though.” “What’s that?” “Where am I going to get changed? And isn’t there make-up involved in this getup?”

70/494

“Leave that to me. Don’t worry your little head about it,” I answer, putting the car into drive and pulling back onto the road. Our next destination is the costume store. Rory’s working there until nine, and I’m sure he’ll let us use a dressing room to get Janice ready. When we enter the store, the shrill scream from the doormat makes me jump. I hear Janice’s stifled laugh behind me, and turn to see her trying to hide her grin with her hand. “A little jumpy, are we?” Rory asks, leaping over the front counter to greet us. “That stupid little mat scared the hell out of me,” I laugh. “I noticed,” he replies. “Uh, who’s the dame?” “Oh, this is Janice, my next-door neighbor. She’s joining us for the party tonight. That’s actually why we’re here. I need a quick favor.” I drag Janice to stand beside me instead of hiding shyly behind.

71/494

“Oh, really? And what might that be?” he asks with an eyebrow raised. “Could we borrow one of the dressing rooms to get her in costume?” “I don’t know…what’s in it for me?” he asks with a grin. “Come on, Rory.” He laughs. “All right. I can’t bear to see you beg.” He grabs the key from behind the counter and leads us to the dressing room area. “Make it quick, okay? I don’t want the boss giving me a hard time about this.” “Got it,” I reply, guiding Janice into one of the stalls. “You’re so awesome, Rory, seriously.” “Yeah, yeah, yeah. You’re welcome. Now hurry up.” After closing Janice in the dressing room, I notice I still have the basket in my hand. “You’re probably going to need this,” I say handing the basket over the top of the door. “Thanks.”

72/494

A few minutes go by. After I hear sounds of struggling coming from within the stall, Janice emerges in full costume. She looks fantastic. I position her in front of the full-length mirror so she can see herself. “You look awesome,” I squeal, smiling ear to ear. I notice that Janice also has a smile as she scans her reflection. “Wow,” is all she can get out. “I’ll say,” I laugh. “Now’s it’s time for the makeup.” Pulling her back into the stall, I remove the makeup kit from the basket and have her sit down on the long white bench running the length of the dressing room wall. As I begin the application process, I delve into a reflective mood. Janice and I haven’t talked for what seems like forever, but here we are, acting like we did all those years ago. Like nothing’s changed. I’ve missed this. I see by the look on her face that she’s caught me reminiscing.

73/494

“This reminds me of when we used to have dress-up sleepovers,” she says. “Yeah, those were some great times, huh?” I grab the black lip gloss. “I know I said it earlier, but I’m really sorry for being such a bad friend. I should’ve stood up for you, but I didn’t. I’ve regretted it so much over the years. You have no idea.” “Don’t worry about it. That’s all in the past, right?” she responds. “I just feel that if I would’ve done something…anything, you wouldn’t be in the position you’re in now.” “Kids are cruel. You had no way of controlling them. Don’t beat yourself up over this. Besides, my mom’s the real issue here.” Janice places her hand on my shoulder and sends me a look of endearment. “I’m glad you asked me to hang out tonight. It’s been way overdue.” “I agree. We’re going to have so much fun tonight. I can feel it.” She laughs. “I hope so.”

74/494

“Finished,” I say, putting the lip gloss back into my makeup kit. “Your time’s up, ladies,” Rory calls into the dressing room.

Chapter Five The location of the Shriek and Howl Halloween Bash is deep within a wooded area on the edge of the Holden Ridge city limits. We have to park our cars in a cordoned-off lot, already a ways into the woods, and then walk the rest of the way. This is a precautionary measure so that if the deputies find our vehicles, they have to maneuver the twisting and winding labyrinth-like path to find the party. Gunnar goes to great lengths to keep these parties as hidden as possible. Reaching what I think is the entrance, Janice and I stop to admire the decorations. There’s a long passageway that seems like it was formed naturally by the surrounding foliage. Two scarecrows with gnarled branches for hands, arms, and legs stand guard on either side of the passage. The sinister smiles cut into their pumpkin heads

76/494

are brought to life by the eerie flicker of the candles inside. Just above the archway is an old wooden sign, bearing the words “Drink Me” painted in white. An arrow points to a table littered with shot glasses. There are a ton of empty glasses flipped upside down already, which means the majority of the party guests have been through here. “Bottoms up,” I say, handing a drink to Janice. “Here’s to a rekindled friendship.” “To a rekindled friendship,” she repeats with a smile. We clink the shot glasses together in a toast and toss them back. An intense burn flows from my throat all the way up through my nose. I cough a little and so does she. “Holy shit, that stuff’s strong,” I blurt after catching my breath. “Yeah,” she manages between coughs. “What the hell was in that?”

77/494

Janice giggles. “It kind of tasted like pumpkin pie.” “Yeah, if it was mixed with kerosene.” “So, now what?” she asks, placing her shot glass upside down on the table. “I guess we travel down the rabbit hole,” I answer while staring into the passageway before us. “Wait—we’re going through there?” I hear the hesitation in Janice’s voice. “I guess so. Do you need a little more liquid courage before we do?” “Definitely not.” “Okay then, in we go,” I say, leading the way into the vortex of foliage. A little ways down the passage, it opens up and we find ourselves surrounded by jack-o-lanterns with scary carved faces. All of them are littered throughout the area above and around us. The scene is so beautifully haunting that it takes my breath away. “Gunnar really goes all out, doesn’t he?”

78/494

I wait for Janice’s response, but she’s too distracted by all the dancing lights within the pumpkins. Continuing down the passageway, following the winding path, we eventually hear some noise in the distance. A bright, fiery light emanates from what looks like the end of the tunnel. The heavy thunderous rhythm of the music coming from up ahead reverberates through the cramped space of the passage. “That’s probably my friend, Alex’s, band playing right now,” I comment as we continue to move forward. “Cool. Can’t wait to meet her.” “I think you’ll like her. She’s a little wild, but you get used to her ways. Oh, and she’s the daughter of Pastor Bachman.” “I know him. He’s the pastor at the church my mom drags me to,” Janice replies. “Drags you to?”

79/494

“Just because my mom became ‘enlightened’ doesn’t mean I believe like she does, Dani,” She says with agitation in her voice. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend.” “It’s no big deal. I just didn’t want you to think that I’m some religious freak like my mother. It’s funny, because she says she’s so religious and such a true Christian, yet she spews so much venom toward others.” A clearly drunk couple stumbles up the path toward us, catching my attention. They’re dressed as sexy Raggedy Ann and Andy dolls. I laugh under my breath when Andy tries to make a pass at Ann and she shuts him down, turning her lips away from his with a look of disgust. A palm to his face seals the rejection. “Sorry, Janice, that was just too funny not to watch,” I say, watching the couple continue to shamble toward the exit. “And I never thought you were like your mother. That’s her deal, not yours.”

80/494

“Exactly,” she replies with a content smile. “Glad you understand.” I wrap my arm around her shoulder and pull her in for a side hug. “I’m so happy you’re here with me tonight. You were so right…this was way overdue.” “Promise me something, though?” “Sure, what’s up?” “Promise me we won’t be leaving the party like those two,” she jokes, gesturing to the drunkards with a slight nod of her head. I laugh. “I think I can manage that. Ready to party?” She smirks. “I think so.” I feel the heat from the bonfire before we emerge from the security of the thick foliage. The roaring fire is surrounded by hoards of people, casting their shadows up into the canopy above and making quite the sight to behold. Scanning the crowd, I see that everyone has a good old red Solo cup in hand. My eyes seek out the keg bar. Gunnar’s dad owns the local

81/494

brewery, H.R. Brew, and he supplies the beer for all his son’s parties. I heard a rumor that the pumpkin ale is fantastic, and can’t wait to wrap my lips around one of those cups full of that exact beverage. I love anything pumpkin. I spot Alex making a beeline for us. The first thing I notice is that she wasn’t lying about the costume she had to wear. Tight black spandex with a skeleton pattern affixed to the front of it hugs every curve of her body. Her face is also painted like a skull, with her long, dark brown hair pulled back into a ponytail. She looks like she’s about to come in for a hug, but then stops short. “Not a single word,” she says, referring to her outfit. Then she finishes moving in for the hug. As she pulls away and looks behind me, she asks, “Who’s this?” “Oh, this is my friend, Janice. She lives next door,” I respond, pulling Janice to stand beside me.

82/494

Alex sends a little wave to Janice. “Cool costume. Hey, wasn’t that the one you wore in the haunted house at school two years ago?” she asks me, and I nod. “Thought so.” She turns her focus back to Janice. “So, you’re Janice, huh? I’ve heard a lot about you.” “Alex!” I reprimand when I see Janice’s expression change to an inquisitive one. “All good things, of course,” she responds quickly in a playful manner. I look over to see a smile on Janice’s face again. “So, that was you guys playing earlier?” Janice asks Alex. “That depends…did you like it?” she queries. “Yeah, it sounded pretty awesome.” Alex laughs. “Then yes, that was us. Hey, have you seen Rory tonight? That assclown was supposed to bring me a change of costume.” I laugh at the “assclown” comment and reply, “We saw him earlier at the store, but not here, no.”

83/494

“I hope he didn’t forget,” she mutters. “So, it was nice meeting you, Janice, but unfortunately I’ve got to get back on stage. I hear the band queuing up again,” she says, and turns to me. “If you see Rory, tell him I’m looking for him, ’kay?” “Got it. Have fun up there,” I tease, since it seems obvious she’s not having a good time in her spandex getup. “I’ll try,” she drawls unenthusiastically while walking away. “She was nice,” Janice comments off to the side. “See, you’re fitting in just fine.” “Uh, we’ve only met one person so far, and she’s your friend,” Janice quips. “The night’s still young. Lighten up. Hey, how about a drink? I think I see the beer trail over there,” I say, pointing to a couple of kegs sitting on the ground. They’re next to a pathway that looks like it leads farther into the forest.

84/494

“Sure. I think it’d be good for me to loosen up a bit more anyway.” Navigating the crowd proves a little difficult around the start of the beer trail, which isn’t surprising. Finally, we get to the two kegs nestled up against a tree. I look around for the cups. “Those are tapped out,” I hear a female say. I turn to see Phoebe standing there dressed as the female version of Freddy Krueger, which really is just a shredded red-and-green striped sweater, black hot pants, fishnets, a nice brown fedora, and the legendary knifed glove on her right hand. “Slutty Freddy, huh?” “Yep,” she replies, putting one of the bladed fingers up to her mouth. She busts out laughing. “Like you can talk, Naughty Red.” “Fair enough,” I joke, looking down at my scant outfit. I notice Phoebe study Janice up and down. “Oh my God—Janice?” she asks. “Surprise,” Janice says timidly.

85/494

“Wow. You dress up nice, girl. I’m surprised to see you here. Come to think of it, I don’t really see you around much…well, ever, actually,” Phoebe comments. “Yeah, I guess it has been a while, hasn’t it?” Janice replies. “Hey, how about you two catch up for a bit while I fetch us some drinks?” I ask Janice. “What can I get ya?” “Get me one of whatever you’re having.” “All right, two pumpkin ales coming right up.” “The kegs are down that path and to the left. I don’t know why Gunnar put them all the way back there, but it’s kind of dark. Did you get your complimentary raver accessories?” Phoebe asks showing off the neon glow stick bands around her wrists and neck. “I’ve got my phone’s light. I’ll manage,” I reply, making my way over to the opening of the trail.

Chapter Six As I flip on the flashlight app on my phone, the path becomes illuminated. The rough terrain, full of leaves and branches, crackles underneath my feet as I make my way through, causing me to feel uneasy. The noise from the party fades as I venture deeper into the woods. The darkness is pitch black and the only lit area is wherever my phone’s flashlight hits. The path takes a sharp turn to the left and I keep following it. I find it ironic that I’m dressed as Little Red and wandering through the forest alone. I laugh to myself, and then hear a loud cracking noise off to my left. Quickly panning to the side, I hope my light will catch whatever just made that sound. There’s nothing there. I continue on until the trail ends at two long, white tables with five large silver kegs perched on top of them. They’re each labeled with what’s inside and I immediately go for the pumpkin ale.

87/494

I place my phone back in my pocket and set the picnic basket on the table before grabbing two red Solo cups. Ah, I love the sound of beer dispensing from a tapped keg. I take a sip of the one I fill for myself before filling the next one for Janice. The beer is so good that I keep it in my mouth and let it swirl around to savor the flavor. “Damn, I love pumpkin beer,” I say after swallowing it. I hear rustling behind me and spin around, dropping my beer in the process. “Shit. Way to go, spaz.” After my surprise subsides, I groan, looking down at the little river of deliciousness flowing out of the cup into the dirt. Taking another cup, I fill it and then attempt to grab the other one while picking up my basket at the same time. I reach for my phone to use its light again, but it’s difficult to balance everything. “Well, this wasn’t thought out very well, now was it, self?”

88/494

There’s rustling behind me again, only this time it sounds louder, as if it’s right there, but I don’t see anything. Actually, I can’t see much at all in front of me at the moment because the little camping lantern, which provides the only source of light in the area, barely even shines on the beer kegs. I panic and place the cups and the basket back on the table so I can pull out my cell phone. I fumble with the phone and it falls to the ground. “Dammit,” I mutter when I hear the rustling start up again. While feeling around for the phone on the ground I hear footsteps in the distance. I feel the cold plastic of the phone under my hand and pull it to me. Unlocking the screen as quickly as my fingers will allow, I turn on the flashlight app and shine it up the path. I scream when I catch a glimpse of someone standing there. “Are you quite finished? Some of us would like to get drunk during this century,” Portia sneers, standing there with a couple of other girls.

89/494

I moan to myself. Great, just great. This is the last person I wanted to have a freak-out moment in front of. “Yeah, I was just finishing up, actually,” I reply with a squinty-eyed glare. I rarely use the word “bitch,” but sometimes she makes me want to use it. After collecting the basket, the two drinks, and my phone, I attempt to make my way back to the bonfire without spilling a drop of beer. Easier said than done. I finally emerge from the trail back to the party. I shut off my phone’s light and carefully place it in my dress’s front pocket. The first thing I notice is that Janice and Phoebe are no longer where they were when I left. My eyes survey the crowd, but can’t find them anywhere. “I told them I’d be right back. Where the hell did they go?” I murmur. I set the two drinks down onto one of the empty kegs resting on the ground. With my back to the crowd of people, I feel someone’s presence

90/494

right behind me. I can’t tell if the heat I’m feeling is from the bonfire or from the person’s body. I stiffen, but don’t turn around. “Whatcha got in your basket?” A deep and raspy voice asks behind me. It almost sounds familiar, so I spin around and am confronted with the face of a wolf. Well, a wolf mask. The irony is seriously starting to kill me. I can tell the person is smiling because the mouth of the mask is strained and curled up. “Can I help you?” I ask, looking the person up and down. He just stands there, which is kind of creepy. “Gunnar, is that you?” There’s still no answer. Well, I definitely know it’s a guy, not only because of the person’s height, but also because his red flannel shirt is shredded, revealing the most ripped set of abs I’ve ever seen…and I should know ripped because I attend all the swim meets at school. Those guys are freakin’ chiseled like crazy, but not like this guy. I go to step past him, but he moves to stand in front of me again. “Ha-ha, I get it. I’m Little Red

91/494

and you’re the Big Bad Wolf. Very funny. Now, if you don’t mind, I’ve got a party to get back to.” “So why didn’t you answer my friend request, huh?” the wolf asks in a normal voice as he removes his mask. “Parker!” I exclaim. I instinctively throw my arms around his neck and hug him since I haven’t seen him in years. His arms wrap around me too, and I relish the moment, but only for a second. Reality hits me like a sack of potatoes to the jaw, and all the negative feelings come pouring in from when he left without saying goodbye. Backing away slowly, the happiness leaves my face and I just stand there staring at him. “Well, that was short-lived,” he jokes, but I don’t laugh. “Sorry, that’s pretty much all the happy I had for you,” I state, but secretly, all I want to do is kiss him. Why does this have to be so

92/494

complicated? Oh, yeah, that’s right. Because I’m so freaking stubborn. “Wow, that was a little harsh, but I probably deserve it.” “Damn right, you deserve it. What did you expect? Me to be all, ‘I forgive you, Parker?’” Oh, and for the record, it’s really hard acting like this when all I want is another hug from him. His arms felt so nice wrapped around me, but what he did to me was a dick move and shouldn’t be rewarded. “I’m sorry things ended the way they did, but—” “Ended? Is that what you call what happened? Because all I remember is having one of the best nights of my life at your graduation party and then waking up the next morning to find you gone. There were no phone calls, no texts, nothing.” He tries to talk, but I cut him off. “Then Phoebe tells me you’ve left to stay with your grandparents in California before starting school in the fall at UCLA. You were supposed

93/494

to stay here and go to Blackburn, but I guess that didn’t happen.” Jamming my finger into his chest, I say, “I even dealt with Phoebe hating me to go to your prom, and then you just up and leave?” Wow, I’m really getting heated now. I grab my drink that’s resting on the keg and take a swig while Parker mulls over everything I just said. “I can explain,” he begins. Phoebe and Janice walk up, both laughing. If this isn’t perfect timing, I don’t know what is. I flash them both a smile, trying to cover up my true emotions. “Oh, I see you found, Parker,” Phoebe says in a teasing voice. “I guess you could say that,” I say, glancing over to Parker. His eyes are fixated on me, which makes me quite uncomfortable since Phoebe’s standing right there. “I was trying to tell you today at the store that he’d be here, Dani,” Phoebe explains. “He’s been

94/494

talking my ear off about how he needed to chat with you about something.” “I’m sorry, Phoebe, but don’t you remember how this,” I say pointing back and forth from me to Parker, “almost ruined our friendship? How are you not losing your shit right now?” “I guess I just got over it. Besides, it’s not like you guys are going to start hooking up again or anything,” she says. I send her a confused look. “What? I’m right, right?” “I think we need to talk,” Parker says. The look on his face is serious. His teeth must be clenched since his jawline looks razor sharp. “I agree,” I hear Phoebe interject. After sending another confused look Phoebe’s way, I take Janice by the arm and lead her off to the side for some privacy. “Do you want to get out of here?” “Aren’t you going to at least talk to that guy first? Sounds like you two have some stuff to work out,” she comments, and I realize that if it’s

95/494

that apparent to an outsider to the situation, maybe she’s right. “Are you sure you’ll be okay for a little bit while I talk to him? Actually, scratch that…it may be a lot a bit.” “Sure, take your time. It’s been nice catching up with Phoebe. She’s been introducing me to a whole bunch of people. I finally feel accepted,” she states with an overjoyed smile. “And it’s all thanks to you, Dani. So, thank you.” “I’ve so missed you, Janice,” I say, throwing my arms around her and giving her a light squeeze. “I’ll be right back, okay?” “Okay.” I snatch my drink from the top of the keg. “Oh, and Janice, your beer is right here,” I say, pointing to the other cup sitting there. She nods with a smile. Parker comes to stand next to me as I take a sizable gulp of the beer in anticipation of the talk I’m about to have with him. Well, the one big

96/494

gulp actually turns into me downing the entire drink. Wiping my mouth, I say, “All right, let’s talk.” Parker doesn’t say anything. He just starts walking away from the crowd and waits for me at the edge of the forest to catch up with him. He turns to look at me once I join him. His baby blue eyes glisten with the light from the bonfire, adding more punch to the smirk on his face. “Let’s go somewhere a little more private, okay?” he asks. His smooth, deep voice flows over me and puts me more at ease. “Sure,” I reply quietly. He begins to walk ahead of me, following a trail leading deeper into the forest. I look back and see Janice talking and laughing with a large group of people, and I can’t help but be happy for her. She looks like she’s having so much fun. Janice actually looks like she’s meant to be here. “Coming?” I hear Parker’s voice behind me. “Yeah, sorry.”

97/494

After walking a little ways, Parker stops and turns to look at me. His features are illuminated by the moonlight seeping through the pockets in the canopy overhead. Sadness reflects in his eyes when his meet mine. “So, we’re here. Let’s talk,” I say, breaking the silence. Parker takes my hand in his and pulls me to stand right in front of him. I want to fight back, but deep down I’ve been waiting for this moment for a long time. I’ve been waiting for him to explain why he did what he did. He left a giant hole in my heart, and it’s about time he mans up and tries to fill it. The pensive look on his face causes my anger to subside for a moment, allowing the heartache I felt when he left to invade. Seeing him again draws out all of the feelings I had for him. We were so close back then. We used to spend many restless nights talking on the phone about our future plans. He was supposed to go to Blackburn University in order to be close by while I finished

98/494

up high school. It was all set. He even received a full scholarship. To me, our relationship seemed like the real thing, and even though Parker was my first true boyfriend, I was sure he was the one. I trusted him so much that I even decided to make him my first foray into the land of non-virgins. He understood how much losing my virginity meant to me after all the discussions we had about waiting until it was the right time. When the time arrived, he made sure my first time was both memorable and uber romantic. Like with most young love, it seemed like my whole world revolved around him. I thought he felt the same way, but I guess I was wrong. “I can tell you’re really pissed off at me,” he says now. “If I was in your position, I’d be pissed off at me too. I’ve treated you like shit, and probably don’t deserve your forgiveness.” “Great. We’ve established I’m pissed at you. Go on.”

99/494

He laughs at my snarkiness. “You always do this. Your walls are so thick right now, and I know I’m to blame for most of that. I didn’t just up and leave you, Dani. I was forced to leave. I couldn’t tell you where I was going because I knew you’d be the only person who would’ve been able to stop me,” he explains, his eyes pleading with me to understand. “I think I’m going to need a little more than that.” He looks at the ground, seeming to take a moment to gather his thoughts before he returns his gaze to me. “My parents found out about us. Since you were so young, they had serious issues with me being with you. They filled my head with thoughts about how I’d be ruining our lives if we stayed together. They threatened to send me out to California if I didn’t go willingly. So, I didn’t really have a choice. I’ll be honest…the thought of me being your first—and possibly only—boyfriend if we continued our relationship began to eat away at me. I realized that you had

100/494

your whole life ahead of you, and one way or another, I was going off to college. I panicked and took my parents up on their offer. I thought me leaving would be the best thing for both of us. In retrospect, it was stupid. I know that now, and I’m sorry for fucking things up like I did.” “What? So, you expect to return here, get this off your chest, and I’m instantly supposed to be okay with this? I gave you the one thing I can never get back and this is your explanation for why you just up and left? It wasn’t fair that you made that decision for both of us. I’ve spent the last two years putting myself back together. Meanwhile, you went off to California to bang me out of your mind because you were young and didn’t want to fight for what I thought we had. Wow, I didn’t know I was dating a boy at the time. I thought I had a man. Guess I was fooled,” I snap. When I turn to leave, he grabs my hand and yanks me into his firm arms. His embrace is

101/494

warm and comforting, like being wrapped in a towel fresh from the dryer. “Is this man enough for you?” he asks close to my mouth, just before our lips caress. I’d forgotten how incredible it felt to kiss Parker, but was immediately reminded the instant our mouths touched. I feel like I’m standing in a sauna, even though it’s fifty-something degrees out here. Parker releases me from his lips and pulls back to look at me. There’s a hint of anticipation in his eyes, like he’s hoping and waiting to see if his kiss has succeeded in making me change my mind. The moment he starts to say something, my head begins to feel funny, like I’m really drunk. This can’t be because of his kiss. Parker’s good, but he’s not that good. I find myself trying extra hard to focus on his face and hear what he’s saying, but it all just seems to be gibberish to my ears. A headache forms behind my eyes. I stagger backwards, out of Parker’s arms. He catches me before I fall to the ground. I see concern register

102/494

on his face, but still can’t make out what he’s saying. His features become one giant blur. “I…feel…funny,” I hear myself say as I feel Parker cradle me to the ground. His hand caresses my cheek just before everything fades to black.

Chapter Seven I blink open my eyes and everything seems distorted because my vision won’t focus. Groggy doesn’t even begin to describe how I’m feeling right now. Blinking my eyes again, I see things a little clearer, but still can’t make out specific details. I try to raise my head, but can’t due to the massive migraine beating me back down. I feel my forehead. There’s a cool, damp rag resting there. It seems like my head is being supported by a pillow, and it feels like I’m lying in a bed, but it doesn’t feel like mine. It’s definitely firmer than my mattress at home. A sense of wooziness hits me. I feel like I’ve taken several doses of NyQuil all at once or something. I slide the cool rag down from my forehead to rest over my eyes, hoping it will ease some of the strain.

104/494

A door opens and closes in the near vicinity. I begin to stir in the bed, but my muscles ache with every movement, so I remain lying still. “Hello?” I croak. “Is someone there?” I feel something caress my face, followed by a voice I know very well. “You’re awake, I see,” Parker says. “Where am I?” “My dorm room,” he replies. “Why am I in your dorm room?” Deep down, I’m kind of happy I’m here. When we were together, Parker was always so attentive, and even though I didn’t necessarily need him to, he would take care of me. I guess that was one of the many reasons I liked him so much. He was always so caring…at least up until the day he left. He lets out a small chuckle. “You passed out last night and I couldn’t find Janice. So, I decided to take you back here to rest. I figured your dad would kill both of us if I brought you home.”

105/494

“Smart move,” I say and then try to laugh, but only succeed in aggravating my headache even more. “Wait…you couldn’t find Janice?” “Nope. I did find Phoebe, though, and she said something about her leaving with a guy named Gunnar. I didn’t really get the details,” he replies. “She left…with Gunnar?” I murmur. “Huh?” “Oh, nothing. Just thinking out loud.” “Exactly how much did you have to drink last night?” he asks while moving the cloth to rest back on my forehead. “I only remember having like, two drinks…the shot at the entrance, and the one beer I got myself.” “Ha, lightweight,” he teases. “I don’t feel hung over, though. I kind of feel drugged—like someone might have slipped something in my drink.”

106/494

Did Parker put something in my drink? No, he couldn’t have. He was in my sights the whole time last night. “Was your drink ever unattended?” he asks. I hear a hint of concern in his voice. “I can’t really remember.” “Do you by any chance remember any of our conversation last night?” “Bits and pieces.” He lets out what sounds like a disappointed sigh. “Huh. Well, can you open your eyes at least?” “I can try,” I reply, slowly blinking them open. Everything’s still blurry, but as I attempt to focus on just Parker’s face, he comes into view. A smile lights up his baby blues as our eyes meet. “Good morning. Well, actually it’s after noon.” “Ah, crap. What time is it?” I ask, feeling my stomach sink at the thought of my dad sending

107/494

out a search party with him leading the way, decked out in full riot gear. “It’s about one, why?” “Ugh, my dad’s why. Where’s my phone?” I ask, feeling around me to see if it’s anywhere near. “Oh, it’s on my desk. I’ll get it,” he says. He rises from the bed. The first thing I notice is that he’s not wearing a shirt. The second thing: He’s wearing green-and-blue flannel pajama bottoms, and they’re dangerously low. As he turns around, my eyes go directly to the definition just around his hips. Oh my God, his V is ridiculous. Seriously, when did Parker get this hot? I mean, he was hot before, but now, holy shit. And from the looks of it, he may not be wearing any boxers under those pajama pants. I feel embarrassed for staring and avert my eyes. “You’re killing me with your V,” I blurt out. “My what?” he asks.

108/494

“Your V. You know, the highly-defined hip and pelvic area. Your V,” I reply, taking my phone from his hands. “Oh, that. Yeah, I’ve been working out a little lately.” “A little?” I mutter under my breath. He just laughs. I look down at the shirt I have on and it’s definitely not mine. It suddenly dawns on me I’m wearing one of his. Tugging on it, I say, “Uh, why am I wearing your shirt? We didn’t—” “No, nothing happened,” he replies quickly. “You threw up all over your Little Red outfit, and that’s all I had for you to wear.” “Really? Why on Earth would you tell me I did that? Please don’t say it’s ruined,” I ask, hoping it isn’t. I really love that costume. “No, I washed it for you.” “Thank you,” I say with a sigh of relief. “At least that’s one less thing my dad’s going to kill me for.”

109/494

When I turn on my phone, there’s the missed call icon at the top of the screen with a number seven next to it. “Dammit, I’ve missed seven calls today. And they’re all from my dad…great. Wait! My car…it’s still parked in the woods! We have to go get it,” I exclaim. “Okay, calm down. Go get dressed and then I’ll drive you out there. You’ll have to wear your costume again though, you know that, right?” he says, taking a seat next to me on the bed. “Yeah, I don’t care. I just need to get my car.” “Well, your Little Red outfit’s in the bathroom hanging up,” he says, motioning to the open door off to the side. As I go to push myself off the bed, I stumble and fall into Parker’s arms. He steadies me until I’m able to regain my balance. “This is quite the compromising position, huh?” he asks smoothly, and I notice my hips are positioned right in between his legs. Our faces are so close together that I feel the caress of his breath on the tip of my

110/494

nose when he speaks. “So, about our little chat last night…I didn’t get a chance to ask you something before you passed out.” “Oh, really? And what was that?” I ask, ignoring my inner voice that’s yelling at me for not pushing away from him. A smile shows across his face, and the sight of his picture-perfect dimples brings one to mine. “I wanted to know if you’d be willing to forgive me and possibly take a chance on us again. I’ve missed you like crazy and—” “I’ll need some time to think about this, okay? I can’t just jump back into the thought of us together,” I reply, pulling away from his arms and standing on my own. “I’m sorry. That’s probably not what you wanted to hear.” He grins. “Actually, the simple facts that you didn’t punch me in the face just now, and you’re considering us again, are all I need to hear,” he says while moving to be right in front of me. I nervously brush my hair back, dodging his intent gaze. The moment he reaches up to touch

111/494

my face, I interrupt the action by backing up. “So, you said my costume’s in the bathroom?” He drops his hand to his side, clearly picking up that I need some space. “Yeah,” he answers, sounding let-down as he nods toward the bathroom door. Entering the bathroom, I close myself in and remove the costume from the hanger that rests on the shower curtain rod. I slip into the garment after removing Parker’s shirt, and then study myself critically in the mirror. The first thing I notice is that the costume still has a lingering vomit smell. The second thing is how ridiculous I’m going to look while walking around outside in broad daylight in this getup. Parker is standing right there to meet me when I open the bathroom door. He’s wearing a sleek, black leather jacket, and has two motorcycle helmets tucked under his arms. “Ready to go?” he asks, handing me one of them. “You have a motorcycle?” “Uh-huh.”

112/494

“How did you get me home last night if I was passed out?” He laughs. “It was quite the challenge, that’s for sure.” “I can’t believe you,” I say, giving him a playful slap on the shoulder. “You risked my unconscious life on your death machine?” “Relax. I drove my friend’s car to the party last night.” “Oh.” “So, do you want head out? Or not?” he asks, motioning with his thumb to the front door. I nod. “Sure,” I respond, and then follow him out of the room. When we reach Parker’s motorcycle, he puts on his helmet and proceeds to straddle the bike. After positioning himself, he taps the back part of the seat and waits for me to join him. This should be interesting since I’m wearing a short, puffy skirt. At least I’ll be able to hide my face behind the helmet.

113/494

I ease a leg over the bike, trying my damnedest not to flash possible onlookers. I have to adjust a bit to find a comfortable position with all the dress’s tulle getting in the way. Putting a little space between Parker and me, I grip the handle on the back seat rest to keep myself stable. This is my first time ever riding on one of these things, so I’m not quite sure what to expect. Parker turns his head to look at me and flips up the helmet’s face shield. “You might want to hang on tight,” he says, and I can tell he’s grinning by the look in his eyes. He starts the ignition and I feel the entire motorcycle rumble between my legs. The vibration feels both awkward and exhilarating at the same time. The vehicle suddenly rocks forward, sending me crashing into Parker’s firm back. I hear the clank of our helmets bumping into each other before I lock my arms around him in a tight grip, to keep from falling off. There was definitely nothing that could’ve prepared me for the sensation of riding on a

114/494

motorcycle. The closest thing I can compare it to is being on a roller coaster, but with no restraints. With Parker driving, though, I feel safe the entire time because he’s patient and knows that I’m not much of a thrill-seeker. I won’t lie…I could really get used to this.

Chapter Eight When we pull up to the outskirts of the forest where the party took place, there are three Holden Ridge deputy cars sitting there. “Shit! If any of those guys see me, there’s no way it’s not getting back to my dad,” I say, feeling dejected after flipping up my helmet’s visor. “Well, if they find your car, won’t that be just as bad?” Parker asks. Why does he have to make sense all the time? It’s kind of annoying…cute, but annoying. “You’re right. Maybe I should just bite the bullet and head in to get my car. Stay here and wait for me, okay?” “Sure, I’ll be here,” he replies, as I go to get off the motorcycle. “Thanks again…for everything,” I say with a slim smile while handing him the helmet. He removes his helmet and rests it in his lap before taking the one from me. “My pleasure,” he

116/494

answers with that damn gorgeous grin of his. That grin could melt chocolate—just sayin’. “Oh, and Dani?” “Yeah?” “Hey, about the whole us thing—” “We’ll talk about us later, all right?” I answer. He nods. “Okay.” Making my way through the woods, I have yet to come into contact with anyone. As I reach the empty lot where all the cars were parked, I see one of the deputies filling out paperwork next to mine. Which, by the way, is the only one left in the lot. Awesome. “Well, there’s no time like the present, I guess,” I say under my breath as I leave the security of the trees and move toward the deputy. Out of the corner of my eye, I see someone hurrying toward me. I’m afraid to look over once he calls out my name. “You’ve got a lot of explaining to do, young lady!” My father’s voice pierces through me to

117/494

my core, and I feel my stomach launch into my throat like I was just on a roller coaster that went backward. “What the hell were you doing here last night? And why are you dressed like that?” So, if I didn’t already know he was pissed with me, the “hell” in his last question definitely cemented that fact. He’s not that big on cursing, and, yes, “hell” is a curse word to my dad. “Uh…well…what exactly can I say right now that wouldn’t result in my permanent grounding?” I ask, not wanting to know his answer. “Not much, but you can start with the truth.” “The truth?” He nods while crossing his arms over his chest, staring at me sternly. He’s holding his facial features so tight that his face looks like it’s made of stone. For some reason, I’m suddenly infected with the worst case of word vomit I’ve ever had. So much for keeping secrets. “Well, the truth is that I did know there was a party going on here last night. I did lie about studying with Alex and

118/494

Rory. I actually made the flyer for this party. I got drunk, passed out, and woke up in a guy’s bed, but nothing happened though. And that’s why my car is the only…one…here.” I notice that his face falls more and more as I keep talking, so I decide to shut up because I’m saying things I really don’t need to confess, but I guess in my mind I was on a roll. One thing I am certain of, though: I’m totally effed. He lets out a low growling sound. Huh, he’s never made that sound before. He raises his index finger and I see flames—yes, flames—spring up in his eyes as he points at me. I know he wants to yell, but then he just shakes his head and throws up his hands in what looks like frustration. “I’m not even sure I can process all of this right now. Do you realize what you’ve done?” he asks, sounding so disappointed in me. There’s only one thing that’s worse than a parent being angry with you, and that’s one being disappointed with you.

119/494

“I’m so sorry, Dad. I was stupid, you’re right—” “Samson!” my dad calls out, cutting me off. He waves over the deputy standing next to my car. “Dani, Samson will take you home, and you better believe we’ll be talking about your punishment later. And I want no more discussion about this. I’ve got work to do here.” “Why are you here?” I ask, irritated that he interrupted me. “It’s official business. You know I can’t discuss it with you,” he replies. “Samson, please drive my daughter home.” Samson grabs for my arm to escort me, but I shake free of his grip. “Did something happen here other than the party?” I ask, more irked than before. Samson tries to grab my arm again, but I dodge him. My father sends me a look I’ve never seen before, and it worries me. He usually tells me everything that happens, but for some reason,

120/494

he doesn’t want to talk about this. I know it’s more than just him being upset with me. “Sheriff, we found something,” I hear someone in the distance cry out. “Samson, please,” he says, gesturing to me with tired eyes. “Samson, if you touch me again, you’re going to pull back a nub, I swear,” I grind out, and he backs off. “Dani, listen to me when I say that I have business to attend to. You shouldn’t be here right now, okay?” “Dad, what happened?” I ask, and then notice the deputy who just called out to Dad approaching us with something in his hands. It’s my picnic basket. “Hey, that’s mine. Why didn’t Janice take it with her when she left?” “Janice? Janice was here with you last night?” my dad asks. He sounds desperate. “This is very important, Dani. Was Janice here?” “Did something happen to her?”

121/494

“Was she here?” he asks again, but more pointedly this time. “Yeah…I brought her here. Why?” My father releases a heavy breath. His eyes fix on me and his facial expression changes to one of apprehension. “Her mom called the station last night, saying Janice didn’t come home after she went to the library.” “She’s probably with Gunnar—” I stop suddenly, realizing I may have just messed up by saying his name. “Gunnar. You mean the Benson boy?” he asks. “Maybe,” I reply, feeling shitty for having such a big mouth. “Samson, make a pass by the Benson place and check out my daughter’s story,” he orders. When Samson walks away, my dad turns back to me. “I want you to go home, Dani.” “But—”

122/494

“Dani, I don’t want to hear it, all right? Just go home and stay there.” “I have to be at work by four,” I argue, which lands me on the receiving end of one serious glare. “I suggest you call your boss and let her know you’ll not be coming in today,” he replies and points to my car. “Now get going.” Frustrated, I storm over to my car and slam the door as I get in it. Peeling out of the lot, I exit the forest and see that Parker’s gone. “Typical,” I murmur while shaking my head. The drive home seems like it takes forever. Thoughts of Parker keep irritatingly seeping into my brain. I should be pissed at him—again—but I find that he’s all I can think about at the moment. That’s what happens with guys like Parker—they intoxicate you. I mean, he did help me out last night and take care of me this morning. That’s got to count for something, right?

123/494

“Stop being stupid, Dani. Once a selfish jerk, always a selfish jerk,” I declare, and blast the radio to drown out any further Parker thoughts. Turning onto my street, I lower the music’s volume when I see Janice’s mom standing out in front of her house, looking haggard. Her head rises to me as I get closer and she waves me down to stop. Hattie hasn’t talked to me since she warned me to stay away from Janice, so this should be interesting. There’s a hint of desperation in her eyes and I know exactly what this conversation is going to be about as I slow down in front of her. “Dani, have you seen Janice?” she asks. Her eyes never leave mine. I feel the truth creeping up my throat and about to exit my mouth, but I swallow hard, not allowing it to. I can’t confess that I took Janice to a party and that she might be over at a boy’s house as we speak. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Oliver, but I haven’t,” I reply, but feel like the worst person ever right

124/494

after. But should I, though? Janice clearly wanted to get out of the house and have a good time because her mom has been such a nightmare to live with. Plus, it wasn’t like Hattie was that nice to me the last time we actually spoke. The expression on her face worsens and it breaks my heart, even though there’s still a twinge of happiness for Janice being able to get away from her. “Well, if you do see her, could you please tell her to come home right away? She’s been gone since last night, and this is just so unlike her,” she says while wringing her hands. “I will, Mrs. Oliver.” “Thank you,” she replies, patting my arm that’s resting on the frame of the car door. I watch as she makes her way back to the front porch and takes a seat in the old-fashioned white rocking chair that sits there. “Don’t worry. Janice will be home soon,” I say under my breath, though I’m not sure I’m convincing her…or myself.

Chapter Nine I finally feel clean after my much-needed second shower. Though Parker did wash my costume, it still reeked of vomit, which had me gagging every time I got a whiff of it. Speaking of Parker, he’s the last thing on my mind as I sit here on the window seat, staring out at Janice’s window. I’ve still yet to see the light come on in her room, and it’s starting to get late. It’s been several hours since I last talked to my dad, and the fact that he hasn’t come home yet has me worried. I really hope Janice is okay. I look down at the walkie-talkie in my hand and then back across the side yard. Pressing the button, I say, “Janice? Are you there?” I get no response. A knock sounds at my bedroom door. “Come in,” I say, knowing full well it’s my father on the other side. I’m not looking forward to this conversation at all.

126/494

The door opens and he stands there with a bewildered look on his face. He doesn’t come into the room, but just looks at me, as though he doesn’t know how to say what he’s about to. “Dani, we need to talk,” he stammers, looking down at the ground and then back at me. “About what?” I reply. I’m still a little pissed by the way he treated me earlier, though I hope he has some good news about Janice. He takes a seat on the edge of my bed, facing me. “What were you doing at that party?” “I was invited by Gunnar, so I went,” I state. “So, did you get Janice back to the safety of her crazy mother?” He exhales heavily. “No. In fact, when Janice wasn’t with the Benson boy, we took him in for questioning based on your statement.” “Wait, what? You took Gunnar to the station? And Janice wasn’t with him?” He shakes his head. “Did he say anything?” “I can’t tell you, and you know that.”

127/494

“Come on. If it involves my friends, I want to know.” “This may actually become a full-fledged missing person’s case, and there’s a procedure I have to follow, regardless of whether they’re your friends,” he replies. “She can’t be missing,” I say. “Technically, she isn’t yet, but if we don’t find any trace of her soon…well, you know the rest.” He places his hand on my shoulder as he stands up. When I look up at him, we share worried expressions. “If she’s gone, it’s all my fault,” I say, dodging his stare. “Don’t blame yourself, Dani. It’s not like you forced her to go with you, right?” “No, I didn’t force her, but I did do pretty much everything else.” He sighs. “Do you have any idea where she could be? Or who she might be with?”

128/494

“I have no idea,” I reply, a hopeless feeling coming over me. “Last night was kind of a blur. And this morning was just…confusing.” “Yeah, what about this whole thing with you waking up in a boy’s bed?” he inquires in a stern tone. “Like I said, nothing happened. I promise.” “That still doesn’t mean I’m okay with the idea of you sleeping in a boy’s bed,” he says, giving me the disapproving parental look. “I know. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again, okay?” “Damn right, it won’t happen again. And if I find out whose bed you woke up in, he’s going to be looking down the barrel of my revolver.” “Seriously, Dad. It’s not that big of a deal.” “Yeah, we’ll see about that,” he replies. He turns and heads back toward the door. “I feel like I don’t even know my own daughter right now. Sneaking off to parties, waking up in boys’ beds, drinking. Are you doing drugs too?” “No, I’m not doing drugs,” I respond.

129/494

“Well, what else have you lied to me about? Did this all start after your mom left?” “No. Surprise Dad, not everything is about Mom. Even though lately you seem to think so,” I feel a twinge of guilt, but he needs to hear it. “That’s not fair, Dani. You don’t get to turn this around and blame me for why you’re lying. I know I haven’t been here as much as I probably should, but that doesn’t give you the right to use my recent actions against me. We’re both going through hard times right now.” He shakes his head and turns his eyes up the ceiling, almost like he’s asking the man upstairs for some guidance. After a quiet moment, he asks, “Why’d you feel you had to lie?” “Everybody lies once in a while, Dad. But it doesn’t necessarily change the person they are.” That statement really resonates with me. Unfortunately, my lies have changed who I am. My father has no idea I’m no longer a virgin, nor does he know that I’ve been drinking since I was fifteen. This party is just the tip of the iceberg of

130/494

my lies, but I could never tell him that. He already has enough on his plate with what he already knows now, and with Mom. “Little white lies. Those don’t change the person you are. Yours are very different. How am I supposed to trust you with anything now?” he answers. I take a few moments to think it over. I sigh when I can’t seem to find an answer fitting enough for his question. “I don’t know, Dad,” I say softly, anticipating his heart breaking at any moment. “That’s disappointing, to say the least.” Opening the door and stepping one foot out, he stops and peers at me over his shoulder. “Oh, and one more thing. You know you’re grounded until you leave for college, right? Just so we’re clear on that?” “Yeah, I kind of figured that already.” “Good,” is all he says before closing the door. When I hear the rain beginning to pound on the roof, I look back over to Janice’s window. A

131/494

streak of lightning illuminates the outside, followed by a wicked clap of thunder. The light in Janice’s room turns on and I immediately press the button on the walkie. “Janice, are you there?” I ask, and wait for an answer. I groan with frustration when there isn’t one. “Marshmallow, this is Mint Chip, are you there? I see your light’s on. Are you there?” I hear the crackle of the walkie-talkie and then Hattie’s voice. “Who is this? Dani, is that you?” I toss the device onto my bed, not really wanting to talk to her. I shut my curtains when I notice her peering at me through the ones covering Janice’s window. Guilt envelops me as the thought of being the one responsible for this whole mess starts to really sink in. I don’t even know how I’ll face her mom if this all comes out. The sound of my cell phone vibrating draws my attention to the nightstand. Thankfully, my dad hasn’t decided to take that away yet.

132/494

Hopping onto the bed, I grab it and settle into a comfortable position, propped up by my pile of pillows. Unlocking the screen, I see that a text message from an unknown number has come through. It reads: Want to know a secret? I stare at the screen until it fades to black, wondering what the message means, and more importantly, who sent it. I start to reply with sure, but then delete the text. A loud clap of thunder makes me jump while I’m concentrating on the phone in my hand. When it vibrates, I’m startled again. “Jumpy much?” I ask myself. I see Rory’s face show up on the screen, and smile. I know he’s calling to hear all the gossip about last night’s party, and boy do I have some things to talk about.

The drive to school the next day is awkward, to say the least. It’s filled with my dad constantly

133/494

reminding me how disappointed he is, and I think I heard, “What were you thinking?” at least a hundred times. I don’t even want to get into the discussion we had over a cup of coffee at the kitchen table earlier. Oh, and let’s not forget about the icing on the cake. Lexi has been marked off-limits, and now I have a personal chauffer for an indeterminate amount of time. You know, though, it’s not often a girl is lucky enough to get dropped off at the very front of a public school—with everyone watching mind you—by a sheriff’s car. The walk of shame up the school’s steps is easily the most memorable part. Standing at my locker, I find myself staring at the pile of books inside and not really doing much else. I can’t shake the thought that they still haven’t found Janice. As more time passes, the outcome becomes grimmer in my head. The slamming of my locker door brings me back to reality. I turn to see Gunnar waiting there, not looking very happy.

134/494

“So, your dad grilled me pretty hard at the station yesterday. He was asking a lot of questions about Janice. Do you have any idea why he’d single me out like that?” he asks in a hard whisper. I panic. “Uh…not really, no.” That’s it, Dani, keep piling on the lies. He sends me quite the glare. “Well, do me a favor and tell him to back off, because I have no idea where she is, all right?” “Okay, got it,” I reply, wanting to crawl inside my locker forever and never come out. Damn, I’ve never seen Gunnar this pissed before, but I guess I don’t really blame him. As he storms off, I look around and notice that the halls are quickly clearing out. The bell must’ve gone off and I didn’t even notice. That may have something to do with the irate GQ model who was just all up in my face. I lean back against the lockers and release a deep sigh. Drawing up my messenger bag, I sling it over my shoulder and trudge my way to Mr.

135/494

Whitman’s office. He may be slightly irked with me after hearing I still have no idea what my essay is going to be about. I’m so dreading our little chat this morning. The last thing I need right now is to have yet another person tell me how disappointed they are in me.

Not really feeling up to eating when lunch rolls around, I enter the cafeteria and search out Rory and Alex instead of heading for the food line. They’re sitting at one of the round tables in the back corner of the room, and Rory waves me over when he sees me. “Where the hell did you go Saturday?” I hear Alex ask as I approach the table. “You just up and disappeared.” “It’s a long story, believe me,” Rory interjects, referencing our conversation last night. “Wait—you knew and didn’t tell me?” Alex complains while scowling at him. “Hey, it wasn’t my secret to tell.”

136/494

Alex turns her questioning look in my direction and waits for me to reply, her fingernails tapping on the tabletop. “Well?” she asks, after I take my seat and don’t give her what she wants. “I’m waiting.” “I may have had a little too much to drink and then woke up in a guy’s bed…no big deal,” I say. Alex’s mouth drops open and Rory reaches over to push it back up. “What? Really? Who was it? You’ve got to tell me,” she insists. “A girl never kisses and tells. You know that,” Rory comments. Alex just flashes him a glare. “Hey, Alex, I already asked Rory this, but do you remember the girl I was at the party with? Janice?” “Yeah, the one dressed in your slutty bride costume, right?” “Yeah, her. Did you see her again after we bumped into you? Like with anyone else other than me?”

137/494

“No, not that I can remember. Why?” “No reason really.” “Come on. You can’t ask a question like that and not follow it up with a reason,” she remarks. Rory laughs. “It’s a hopeless cause, Alex. I tried to get it out of her last night, but she wouldn’t spill.” “I was just curious is all,” I state, which only leads to me getting questioning looks from both of them. I laugh to cover my nerves and look for any opportunity to change the subject. “It was Parker,” I whisper so that only the two of them can hear. “What was Parker?” Alex asks, but it seems that Rory realizes what I meant. “Shhh…not so loud,” I chastise. “I woke up in his bed the morning after the party.” “Shut up,” Alex says loudly. “Shhhh!” Both Rory and I shush her. “Sorry,” she replies. “You mean you woke up in the Parker Reed’s bed? You mean the one who

138/494

left you in the dirt, causing us to have like a million ‘I hate Parker Reed’ sleepovers to get over him? That Parker?” she whispers. “Yes.” Her mouth drops open again and Rory is right there to push it back up. “Dani, insert middle name, Marks, what in the hell were you thinking? Have you lost your damn mind?” she asks. “It wasn’t like it happened on purpose,” I huff. “Need I remind you of what that a-hole did to you?” Alex asks, and Rory nods while looking pointedly in my direction. “I mean, we even wrote a song entitled, ‘Parker Is a Giant Douche Canoe.’” “No, I’m fully aware of what happened between him and me. No need for a refresher course on all things douche canoe Parker.” The lunch bell rings, saving me from further scrutiny from Alex.

139/494

“This convo is so not over, Dani,” she says as we get up from the table. “You, me—conference, after school.” I giggle. “Yes, ma’am.”

Chapter Ten Sitting at my desk in the newspaper office, I begin looking over the mock-up for Friday’s issue. Like usual, I’m the first one at the after-school meeting, but I don’t mind because I can usually get some work done before the others show up. Being the editorin-chief for the paper has its definite ups and downs, but thankfully there are more ups. “Dani, you’re here early, as usual,” I hear Mr. Whitman say as he enters the office. “Am I really that predictable?” I ask with a laugh. He smiles. “I wouldn’t call it predictable. More like dedicated or dependable.” He takes the mock-up from my hands and begins flipping through it. “Looks good.” “I agree, though the margins are a little off on the sports column. I’ll try and fix it

141/494

before everyone shows up,” I reply, taking it back from his hands. “Oh, I completely forgot to tell you all during today’s meeting that I have a surprise for you. We’re going to have a new addition to the newspaper since I can’t be here to help out as often as I’d like to,” he says as he takes a seat behind his desk. “An addition? Who is it?” Just as he’s about to respond, a couple of newspaper staff members walk into the room. “You’ll find out soon,” he answers and turns his attention back to the door as more students enter. I reach for the mock-up that I placed at the edge of the desk and knock over my pen cup, spilling the contents onto the floor. Damn. As I begin picking up the pens and pencils, I hear the door to the office open again, and then a familiar male’s voice fills the

142/494

room. Peeking over the desk, I see Parker shaking hands with Mr. Whitman. I cower behind the desk once I realize he must be who Mr. Whitman was talking about. Succumbing to the fact that I can’t hide behind my desk for the rest of the meeting, I rise up, slowly and inconspicuously, while putting the writing utensils back into the cup and taking a seat. My eyes slam into Parker’s and we experience an “oh crap” moment. He sends me a quick wave to say hello and I flash him a forced smile. The nerve of him. Seriously? You know, I could easily write him off—if only he wasn’t so freakin’ drop-dead gorgeous and didn’t completely ensnare all my senses in one fell swoop. Oh, and I guess he can be an all-right guy at times too. Once everyone is settled at their desks, Mr. Whitman calls the staff’s attention to him and Parker. I notice a few of the girls in

143/494

the room are already completely smitten with Parker. “Poor bastards,” I say under my breath. “I’d like to introduce my new assistant on the newspaper, Parker Reed. He was my star pupil when he attended Brookmoor High. He actually sat in your desk, Dani,” Mr. Whitman says, motioning over to me. “Yeah, don’t remind me,” I mumble. A memory of me and Parker sitting alone in this office sweeps into my mind. This was where we first kissed, right here at this very desk. Not only our first kiss, but mine. I remember it like it was yesterday. The butterflies return in the pit of my stomach, as I think about the anticipation of his lips against mine. He was a seasoned pro and I was this little meek flower just ready to be plucked. He was the reason I joined the paper in the first place. Mr. Whitman’s voice floats into my head, taking me away from my daydream.

144/494

“Parker’s going to be filling in for me when I can’t be here to assist you with the paper. He’s a journalism major at Blackburn University, and is very experienced in this field. Any questions that you have for me can easily be answered by him, as well.” Parker just stands there, all smiles, but I notice him glancing over at me every once in a while. I can’t deny that I still have feelings for him, but can I trust him? That is the question of the century. “Dani,” Mr. Whitman says, startling me out of my thoughts. “I want you to bring Mr. Reed here up to speed on how we run the paper now. Things have changed a little since he was the editor-in-chief, and I think it’s only fitting that the current one does the honor.” Shit, really? Well, there goes that idea of trying to avoid him. “Sure, sounds great,” I reply, trying to suppress the angst bubbling up inside me.

145/494

“Why don’t you start by showing him around campus? I’m sure he’ll want to see how the old school has been spruced up a bit,” Mr. Whitman says. “But what about the mock-up?” I ask, holding it up. “I’ll walk everyone through it, don’t worry. You should get used to working with Parker one-on-one, anyway, since I want you to be his go-to person on the staff,” he replies with a smile. Oh, joy of joys. Mr. Whitman is lucky I like him, because right now it’s taking every muscle in my body not to just smack him upside the head and yell out no. And Parker’s comment of, “I look forward to it,” doesn’t help matters much, either. When I approach the door to leave the office, Parker grabs the handle and opens it before I can. He can be a gentleman sometimes, I guess. I hear the door close behind

146/494

me and turn to face Parker to give him a piece of my mind away from prying ears. I collide with his highly-toned chest, and he grabs hold of me. My face floats mere inches from his. His cologne is so enticing. Consider that three senses completely ensnared right there. “If you wanted to make out, all you had to do was ask,” he jokes, talking closely to my mouth, teasing my lips. I push away from him and he lets out a chuckle. “Thanks for abandoning me Sunday,” I say resentfully. “Oh…sorry about that. When I saw the deputy’s car, I split to avoid confrontation,” he replies. “I wanted to stay and wait for you—” “But you didn’t,” I interrupt. As I turn to walk down the hall, he takes my arm and drags me gently back to face him. “Hey, I’m not finished with you yet,” he

147/494

says with a grin. “We’ve got a lot to talk about.” “We do, do we? I thought we were pretty much caught up the moment you did what you typically do in stressful situations: leave me,” I snap back. “I told you I was sorry about that. There’s not much more I can say.” “Oh, really? Well, I guess this tour is over then,” I reply, heading back toward the office door. I hear Parker say, “We really do need to talk,” but I just ignore him. I wrench open the door, which seems to surprise Mr. Whitman, who’s right in the middle of a discussion. “Finished so soon?” he asks as I enter the office. “Turns out not much has changed,” I reply, passing him on the way to my desk.

148/494

After the meeting is over, I find myself still fixing the margins on the sports section. It’s only Parker, Mr. Whitman, and me left in the office. “I’ve got to run, Dani. The Mrs. is making dinner and I get in trouble when I’m late,” Mr. Whitman laughs. “You better get home soon too. Dedication should not always lead to obsession.” “I’m almost done here. Just want to finish this before I head out.” “I’ll wait for her,” Parker says and I mock him from behind my computer screen. “It’s great that you two are getting on so well already,” I hear Mr. Whitman say as he opens the office door to leave. “See you tomorrow, Dani. And don’t forget to work on your essay.” “I won’t, Mr. Whitman, promise,” I reply with an empty smile. The instant he steps out, Parker strolls over and circles the desk while watching me

149/494

like a predator does its prey. I try to ignore him and remain focused on my computer screen, but my eyes dart over at the sound of the pen cup sliding across the desk. Parker takes a seat on the edge of the desk right next to me. I fight back the urge to look over at him. All I ask is, “Yes?” He reaches over and hits control S on the keyboard, and in the process gently grazes my hand. A shiver surges through my arm at the softest embrace from his skin. He then proceeds to turn off the computer screen, causing me to turn abruptly and face him. “What do you think you’re—” I say before I’m silenced with a kiss. I slap his chest and try to push away, but he cups my face with his hands and pulls me closer, securing his lock on my lips. When he begins to run his fingers through my hair I start to relax, allowing the kiss to deepen. It’s

150/494

the moment his tongue tries to slip into my mouth that I snap out of it. “Really?” I ask, pushing him back onto the desk. “Well, you didn’t want to talk, so I figured this was the next best thing.” The grin that shows up on his face is the very one that won me over years ago. His smile and smirk are nothing to shake a stick at, but his grin is stuff of legend. “Why do you have to do that?” I ask. “Do what exactly?” he answers with a confused look and that damn grin still on his mouth. “Look so damn cute,” I reply. I stand, positioning myself between his legs. His hands move to rest on the small of my back as he pulls me closer. I brace myself on his broad, muscular shoulders and release a small giggle when I dodge his attempt at kissing me again. His bright blue eyes bore

151/494

into mine. I’ve lost many hours just staring into those beauties. A whiff of his cologne fills my nose and flips a switch. I push Parker down onto the desk. I climb up on top of him and place one knee on either side of his body, straddling his hips. I hear the crash of the pen cup on the ground as I begin to slowly trace his abs under his shirt with my fingertips. Touching Parker is intoxicating. I can never get enough of him. Which, if our past is any indication, is a very dangerous thought. He lets out a moan of anticipation as he wraps his arms around me and pulls me to rest against his chest. His arms feel so right around me, like they were meant to encircle my frame. As our mouths embrace again, I can’t seem to get enough of the sweet taste of his lips. Parker releases my face, all the while still staring into my eyes. He smiles as he brushes a few rogue strands of hair behind my ear.

152/494

“Does this bring back any memories?” he asks. “Plenty.” “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this moment. I’ve thought—hell, I’ve dreamed of it ever since the day I left,” he says softly. “Well, then don’t ruin it.” I lean down to kiss him again, but I’m interrupted by a sudden banging at the door. Faster than I can say the four-letter word that comes to mind, I shove off the desk and land on my feet. My eyes never leave the office door as I anticipate someone bursting in on us at any moment. “What the hell was that?” Parker asks, sitting up. I shrug. “Hello?” When there’s no reply, Parker pulls me close to him again, clearly wanting to continue where we left off. Unfortunately for him, the mood is wrecked for me now.

153/494

“I know this feels right, but we can’t risk getting caught in here,” I say, pumping the brakes on this little fondle session. “I mean, what if a janitor walks in—or worse, Mr. Whitman?” “We’ll be quiet,” he replies, trying to nibble at my neck, clearly not getting my point. “Can you please think with your head for a second and forget you have testosterone,” I quip, pulling his face in front of mine. “I thought that’s what I was doing?” he replies, going in for my neck again. If I had a squirt bottle filled with water right now, I’d spray him in the face and say, “No.” “Parker, it’s getting late. I need to finish up here and head home.” When he begins to protest, I say, “Do I need to remind you of my dad’s revolver? You know, the one he’s nicknamed ‘Dani’s Chastity Belt’? Yeah, that’s the barrel you’ll be staring down if I don’t get home soon.”

154/494

He groans. “Fair enough. I see your point.” “Thought you would,” I giggle before placing a kiss on his cheek.

Chapter Eleven So, last night’s unexpected make-out session has only succeeded in doing one thing: make me more confused about where I stand on one Parker Reed. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I do have crazy-strong feelings for him, but is it worth tearing down all the walls I’ve built up over the years, only to get hurt again? Rolling out of bed, trying to push out the Parker thoughts, I look over at Janice’s window. Sadness fills me when I realize it’s officially been seventy-two hours since she was reported missing, and there’s still been no sign of her anywhere. If anything can put a damper on my confused, fuzzy feelings for Parker, it’s knowing I’m possibly responsible for someone’s disappearance. Not just anybody, but a really good friend. “Dad?” I call out through the cracked open bedroom door, but there’s no response. “Dad?”

156/494

Opening the door the rest of the way, I make my way to the stairs and peer over the banister that looks out over the foyer. There’s no movement or sounds coming from the first floor. The house is completely silent. “Dad?” I ask once more, and when there’s still no response, I head down the stairs. When I enter the kitchen, I notice a piece of paper on the table and assume it’s a note from my father. Picking it up, I peruse the message. In a nutshell, it tells me to drive straight to school. See you soon is written at the bottom, and I wonder what that means.

As I pull into the senior section of the parking lot at school, I see Mr. Whitman in the teacher’s lot across the way. It dawns on me that I forgot to work on the admissions essay last night, and I proceed to let out a groan of frustration. Throwing the car into park, I step out of the vehicle and

157/494

make my way over to him, all the while hoping he doesn’t ask me about the essay. I stop dead in my tracks when I see Janice’s missing persons flyer taped to a light post, flapping in the brisk morning wind. Her solemn eyes meet mine as I gaze at the flyer, which only makes me feel worse about the whole thing. Shaking out of my slump, I hear Mr. Whitman call out to me. He sends me a wave after I do, causing him to fumble with his briefcase. His smile greets me as I come to stand in front of him. “Dani, you’re here a little early, aren’t you? Are you that excited for me to read your admissions essay?” I swear, right of out the gate with the dreaded question. I didn’t even have a chance to bring up another topic for discussion. “Uh…” I begin, but then pause, mulling over what excuse I’m going to give. “You didn’t work on it did you?” “No, sir,” I murmur.

158/494

“This is so unlike you.” “I know. Things have been a little off lately,” I reply in a defeated tone while trying to dodge his disappointed-teacher stare. “Well, I know what you’ll be doing instead of sipping a latte and chatting with me during your independent study.” “Computer lab?” I ask, knowing the answer. “Computer lab,” he responds, gesturing for me to move ahead of him toward the school. He laughs. “Go on, get going. That paper isn’t going to write itself, young lady.” “Yes, sir,” I sigh, and trudge my way up the sidewalk. The lab is freezing and smells of electronics. It’s also located in one of the oldest parts of the school. I’m pretty sure the room is this cold in order to keep away the musty stench of the horribly offensive carpet that covers the floor. Even after our school was granted brand-spankin’-new computers, they still did nothing with the space

159/494

around them. You’d think they’d want to put them somewhere a little less…shitty. Plopping down in one of the many chairs, I turn on the monitor in front of me and wait for it to boot up. I type in my student ID number and password before hitting the enter key to access the home screen. After opening up a new Word document, I brace my elbows on the table and stare at the blank white page. The flashing little text indicator is oddly hypnotic. Then I realize that it’s actually just mocking me. “All right, Dani. You can do this,” I say, trying to pep myself up. Cracking my fingers, I set them to the keys and prepare to type, but nothing happens. And I mean absolutely nothing. My hands just remain stuck in that position. It’s as if my brain and hands aren’t even connected. I don’t know why this essay is giving me such a hard time. I’m usually awesome at bullshitting—aka essay writing—but this one is stumping me. Maybe it’s

160/494

everything that’s been going on lately that’s clouding my head and effing with my focus. I release a frustrated whine and pull my hands away from the keyboard to rest on my lap. Gripping the sides of the computer chair, I groan and look around the room for a visual distraction…or creative inspiration, whichever comes first. A screen pops up on the monitor, bringing my attention back to it. It’s the media player for the computer, but there’s just a black background with a play button slowly pulsing light blue at the center of it. My curiosity gets the better of me and I move the mouse across the desk until the little white arrow is hovering over the word play. When I click the mouse, the video goes full screen. Right there for everyone to see is me mounted on top of Parker, feeling him up. It takes me a couple of seconds to realize it’s me, since it isn’t in focus at first and looks like it was shot through the office door window. Once the video clears up, though, I shut off the screen.

161/494

Shock registers on my face. My stomach drops as I wonder who the hell caught this on tape. Then I remember the knock at the door that interrupted our little session and realize the person who hit the door was taping us the whole time. My phone vibrates in my pocket. I pull it out to see a text message has come through from an unknown number. The text reads: I know a secret… My first reaction is to reply with “Who is this?” or “What do you want?” but instead my fingers type: Fuck You! This is probably not the smartest thing I’ve ever done, but it feels good to tell off the bastard on the other end who’s feeling the need to exploit me. I’m sure I’ll get a quick response, but nothing comes through, even after a few minutes. Maybe I scared the person off. The computer screen next to me turns on and automatically logs into the home screen. I watch

162/494

in horror as the same video that played on my computer starts on that monitor, as well. “What the…?” I mutter under my breath. I quickly turn off the screen, but once I do, I notice several other computers turn on and log in by themselves. Again, the video begins to play on all of them. I frantically rush over and press the power buttons on every computer that’s turned on, putting an end to the streaming video. I’m thankful that I’m the only one in the lab and no one else saw this. How in the hell is this person doing this, anyway…and why? My phone vibrates again. Checking it, I see there’s another message glaring back at me: I’d be careful what you say to me J I can almost hear the grin on the other end of the phone. It’s smug and condescending, but at the same time, very serious. My reply of, What do you want from me? is met with nothing at first. Then a cryptic text comes through.

163/494

Such a loaded question…careful it doesn’t backfire. Feeling like I’m getting nowhere fast, I decide to do the one thing I told myself I wouldn’t—and that’s call Parker. He’s the only one I can turn to right now, and since he’s involved in this, I feel I should tell him. I dial his number. My finger trembles as I think about what and how I’m going to explain this. Will he believe me? I mean, it does sound crazy that some person is using a video of us making out for reasons unknown. The phone rings and rings on the other end. It occurs to me that he might still be in class, since he told me he did have an early lab today. The call goes to his voicemail and I smile when I hear his deep voice telling me to leave a message. Shaking off the fuzzies, I hang up and groan to myself, feeling like I’m all alone in this. I reach over and hesitantly turn on the screen in front of me again. Thankfully, the video is

164/494

gone. I proceed to do the same thing with the other monitors and have the same result. When the phone vibrates in my hand, I look down at it and see Parker’s smiling Facebook photo. The moment I say, “Hey,” Parker replies, “So, couldn’t stop thinking about me, huh?” He laughs into the receiver and I can’t deny the grin he’s brought forth. I gain my composure and slap on a serious face. “Someone videotaped our little session last night.” “What?” “You, me, sucking face last night. Remember?” “Oh, I remember. I was just confused about the whole recording thing. That’s kind of hot, though. Do you think you can forward me that video?” “Parker, I’m not fooling around here. Someone recorded us, and is now trying to use it

165/494

against me. Doesn’t that bother you?” I ask, frustrated with his guy humor. “Are you sure this person is trying to use it against you, and isn’t just one of your friends playing a joke?” “I’m positive. I’ve been getting texts from this unknown person ever since the night of the party—and the night my friend went missing…” I trail off, thinking about Janice. “Wait, your friend went missing? The one you were with that night?” “Yeah, she’s officially missing today, even though I’ve known since Sunday.” “Do you think this person who’s texting you has anything to do with your friend?” he asks, and I can hear the concern setting in. I think he believes me now. “I have no idea. I’m getting really worried about all of this,” I reply. I hear his heavy sigh on the other end, as if he’s contemplating what to say next. I wish he was right here so I could be in his arms.

166/494

The bell rings, cutting off Parker before he has a chance to finish consoling me. The damn bell had to go and ruin it. I groan, realizing my independent study is over and I still haven’t written a single word on my essay. Not even my name. “I have to get to my next class, but we need to talk ASAP. Will you be at the paper meeting today?” I ask, my voice shaking as I retrieve my messenger bag from under the table. “I agree we need to talk, but I won’t be at the meeting today. Family stuff,” he replies, sounding distracted. “Guess we’ll just have to talk somewhere else, then. That might be hard, though, since I’ve been grounded for life.” I release a hollow laugh. “Are you going to be okay until then?” he asks, and I can tell that his full attention is resting on my answer. He really does have his moments of unconditional caring. “Yeah, I think so. Just a little freaked out by this whole thing. That’s all.”

167/494

“And rightfully so. We’ll talk soon, okay?” “Okay. Promise?” “Promise,” he answers, making me feel a little more secure than I was before we talked.

Chapter Twelve As I’m leaving the computer lab I hear the crackle of the school’s intercom. There seems to be some kind of discussion going on in the background of the principal’s office where the microphone is. Then it quiets and the principal’s voice comes through loud and clear. “Will Danielle Marks please report to the principal’s office? I repeat, will Danielle Marks please report to the principal’s office? Thank you.” “What the hell? Oh my god, the video! Please tell me this is not about the video,” I murmur to myself, feeling nauseous. I can’t even begin to describe the sensations that course through me as I make my way to the front office. Dread is pretty much the first thing that enters my mind. Then I think about Parker and what it would do to him if that video gets out. My dad would kill him, Mr. Whitman would

169/494

kill him, and the principal would kill him—after killing me first, of course. Rory and Alex come up next to me, flanking me on either side. Just like moths to a flame, the two of them flock to gossip. “What did you do?” they both ask. “I don’t know,” I lie, and when I get the stares, I realize they’re not buying it. “Seriously?” Rory’s eyes pin mine as we come to a halt. I see Alex hovering next to him, sending me the same look. “Yeah, seriously.” I try to sound convincing, but apparently that fails. “Uhhh, just a tip, Dani. You might want to work on the whole lying bit before you go into that office,” Rory says with a pinch of sass, which is odd because he’s usually so manly. Alex bobs her head right next to his agreeing with the statement. “Should we work out an escape plan if things get heated in there?” Alex jokes.

170/494

“I’m not even sure this is a bad thing, guys. I don’t know why I was called in…seriously.” “There you go. You’ve already gotten better at lying. Let’s go with that,” Rory chuckles. I just roll my eyes and reach for the office door handle. They both begin to hum the Funeral March as I enter the office, and I can’t help but laugh a little. Those two always keep me so entertained. The moment I come to stand in the front office, my serious face returns. I’m met with the head receptionist pointing to the principal’s office door down the hall. The look she sends my way leaves me frightened. She’s like the judge before the executioner, and her face tells me I’m about to be guillotined. My feet feel like they’re encased in concrete as I slog toward the big red door at the end of the hallway. Well, technically it’s brown, but in my head right now it’s a deep, dark red—for obvious bad reasons. The video of Parker and me streams in my head, and I can’t shake it. The thought of having to talk about it with someone other than

171/494

Parker just makes me want to vomit nervousness all over this hall. That was such a private moment, and it could turn into the death of us. My hand shakes as I reach for the handle of the red (actually brown) door. As I begin to turn it, my hand stops, and for some reason, won’t finish what it started. The door flies open and I let out a gasp. I should have let out more, because the sight behind the door is enough to make me keel over. Not only is Mr. Clarkson sitting behind his desk with arms crossed and everything, but standing next to him is my father, also with his arms crossed. This is it. This is how I’m going to die—right here standing in front of me. I’m so distracted by the intimidating presences before me that I don’t even notice that Deputy Samson was the one who opened the door. I really don’t like that guy, and something tells me by the look on his face that the feeling’s mutual. “Dani, please take a seat,” Mr. Clarkson says as I enter the room.

172/494

“Where to?” I ask, trying to make a poor pass at humor. Sometimes stupid jokes just pour out of me when I’m nervous. I shudder when not even the slightest bit of a smile appears on any of their faces. I’m totally and utterly dead. “I’ll leave you to it, then,” Mr. Clarkson states to my dad as he stands up, sends me an eyebrow raise, and passes by me out of the office. I hear me father let out a low grumble as he hikes up his utility belt and takes a seat in front of me. He doesn’t say anything to me—not even a “How are you?” Nothing. Actually, he’s having a hard time even looking me in the eyes right now, and this causes my nerves to jump into overdrive. Deputy Samson directs me to sit in one of the chairs in front of the desk. He tries to touch me, but I pull away from his grimy hands. Like I said, I really don’t like him. I drop down into the chair and scoot it closer to the desk, waiting for my

173/494

dad to say anything, but instead he just lets out another growl as he digs into his pants pocket. He tosses a little plastic bag on to the desk right in front of me. It appears to have something in it. A folded piece of paper slides behind it quickly after. “Read it,” are his first words since I entered the room. My hand brushes past the little plastic bag in order to grab the piece of paper. Through the writing on the bag, I see what seems to be a small piece of pink jewelry inside that eerily reminds me of my skull-and-crossbones earrings. “Is that my earring?” I ask, but the question is ignored and I’m directed once more to read the piece of paper. “Okay,” I mutter and then unfold the paper one section at a time. My palms are sweating, making the paper damp in my hands. Scanning the white page, I notice some printed computer text right in the center of it. As I begin to read it in my head, my eyes widen with dismay. Another

174/494

low grumble from my dad takes me away from the note. “Aloud, please,” he orders. I take a moment to myself before I read the sentence. Licking my lips, I prepare to face the questions I’m sure to receive after reading this out loud. “Your daughter is not as innocent as she appears to be, Sheriff.” I raise my eyes to him and am smacked down by the parental glare. If his tongue was a blade, it would be poking through his cheek right about now. To be honest, even though I know I’m going to die because of this, I’m glad it’s not about the video. Just sayin’. I try to say something, but I’m stopped short by my father pushing the plastic bag closer to me. “Can you please enlighten me as to why Deputy Samson here received this little item and that note in the wee hours of the morning?” “I have no ide—”

175/494

“Don’t lie to me, Dani. You’ve been doing that plenty lately. That’s your earring in the bag, is it not?” he interrupts me with his thunderous voice. “Maybe. I don’t know. They were both on my nightstand last night.” I stop as I become flustered. First, I was toyed with this morning by a video, and now I’m getting grilled by my dad. What a perfect day this has turned out to be. Then a very scary thought suddenly hits me. This person was in my room. That’s the only way they could’ve taken the earring. “I want you to be straight with me, Dani. Do you have any idea why someone would send these items to the station?” I take in a deep breath, feeling overwhelmed. My hands tremble at my sides and a slew of thoughts run through my head. I try to come up with an explanation, but I keep coming back to the unknown person.

176/494

“I’ve been getting weird texts from an unknown number ever since the party. I don’t know who this person is, or why they’re doing this, Dad. They probably sent these things,” I blurt out. “Why didn’t you tell me about this before?” he asks. I can feel the anger in his voice like a flame beside my face. “Let me see your phone.” I dig into my pocket and remove my cell. Staring at it for a second, I try to remember if there are any incriminating texts from the unknown person, or if they’re all just cryptic. “The phone,” my dad orders with his hand extended. I hand it over and my stomach sinks because I can’t remember all the texts that were sent. A lump forms in my throat and my mouth feels like it’s full of sand. I begin to nibble at my fingernails and hear my mom’s voice in my head telling me to stop. She loathes the fact that I chew my nails when I get nervous or stressed,

177/494

and never passes up an opportunity to remind me of that. I study my dad’s facial expression as he peruses my phone. It hasn’t changed since the moment he began. The frustrated sigh as he hands it back to me isn’t a good sign. “Well?” I ask, when he doesn’t say anything. “There are no messages from an unknown number on your phone, Dani,” he replies, slouching back into the chair. It takes me a moment to fully comprehend what he just said. “What? That’s impossible,” I reply and immediately start scrolling through my phone’s menu for the message tab. Pressing on it, it reveals he’s right. “This can’t be. Dad, I swear there were messages on here from an unknown number. What teenager would lie about having text messages on their phone? Texting is our life.” “Dammit, Dani. Can you please be serious and quit lying to me?”

178/494

“I’m not lying! Stop saying that,” I say, and realize that probably wasn’t the best tone to respond with. His jaw clenches tight, and I’m pretty sure there’s smoke pouring from his ears and nose, like one of those bulls in a Looney Tunes cartoon. “Dad, you know me. I wouldn’t lie about something like this. I swear there were messages on this phone from someone trying to mess with me. Please believe me,” I beg, but it seems like it’s fallen on deaf ears. “You know, I thought I was disappointed in you before, but this is a new low, Dani.” He won’t even look at me, and my heart cracks in two. Then anger fills me like a roaring fire on the inside, and I just glare at him. I know I get my stubbornness from him, but words can’t even describe how pissed I am right now. “You may return to class,” he says. I don’t say a word. I just let out an irritated breath, grab my things, and shove back the chair in a fit of frustration. Deputy Samson tries to

179/494

stand in my way with a stupid smirk on his face. Damn, I just want to punch him right in the jaw. “Out of the way, ass.” “Dani!” I hear my dad chastise from behind me. Deputy Samson steps to the side with that stupid smirk still present and accounted for as I push toward the door, wrench it open, and then slam it behind me.

Chapter Thirteen My break at work couldn’t have come quick enough. I’ve spent the entire day at school—and so far, at work—in a daze, going over everything that’s happened. My mind is cluttered to the point of driving me insane. I even had to turn off my phone because I was afraid of getting a mocking text from that unknown bastard. I mean, how was this person able to make that video pop up on several screens in the computer lab, and then erase all evidence of the video and the texts? Not to mention the fact the person got a hold of one of my earrings. What did I do to deserve all of this? I turn on the computer in the back office to do a Google search for “How to erase text messages on someone else’s phone,” and it comes back with a ton of results. Most of them say it’s not possible, but I know that it is since it happened to me. Then I find articles about phone apps with

181/494

these capabilities. That must be how the person is doing it—an effing app. There’s one called Text Destruct, and it allows the sender to set a timer on the message before it destroys it. Great. Looks like I’ll never be able to prove this unknown person is sending me texts. Advancements in technology are great and all, but this shit’s ridiculous. Feeling defeated, I resort to checking my email. I’m expecting some Friday issue corrections from Mr. Whitman. His email is at the top of the list, but right under it is one from a nameless sender. Thinking it’s one of the hundreds of emails I get about free cruises and winning the lottery, I flag it as spam and press delete. The moment I delete it and go to click on Mr. Whitman’s email, another message from a nameless sender appears right above it. This time, there’s a subject. It simply says: Turn on your phone. I stop in confusion and study the title. Clicking on the email, it appears on the screen. All that’s written is:

182/494

You can’t get rid of me that easily. I want to yell, “Screw you” at the computer, but my boss would probably hear me and think I’m crazy…er. I fight with myself about whether to turn on my phone. Do I really want to give this creep the satisfaction of doing what they want? Another ping on the computer screen draws my attention. There’s another email just above the one before with the subject: I’m waiting… How does this fucker know my phone’s still off? I’m getting really tired of this. Once more, a ping sounds from the computer, bringing along with it yet another email. I almost don’t even want to look at it, but I can’t resist taking a quick peek. I’m unable to read the subject by glancing at it, so I give it my full attention: This is far from over...turn on your phone! I sense from the exclamation point that the person is getting frustrated. Good! It’s about damn time they’re frustrated rather than me.

183/494

Ignoring the emails from the unknown sender, I click on the one from Mr. Whitman. As I’m reading, I can’t help but be drawn to the slew of new emails that keep popping up behind the current window I have open. Unknown is filling my inbox with message after message, all saying to turn on my phone. The constant pinging is driving me nuts, so I mute the sound on the computer. Trying to fight against reading any more emails, I return to Mr. Whitman’s. I can’t believe it. Instead of attaching the pictures of the mockup cover, he decided to take them with his new camera phone and send them to mine. Seriously? That means I have to turn on my phone. Retrieving the phone from my pocket, I proceed to turn it on, knowing full well this is a terrible idea. My heartbeat quickens when I hear the chime of the start-up tune as it comes to life, and fear what else I’ll find other than a picture message from Mr. Whitman. Slowly typing in my password, I cringe when I press enter and the

184/494

home screen pops up. I feel kind of stupid when I avert my eyes, like something is going to jump out of my phone at me, but I’m just so effin’ worried about what Unknown has sent. My phone seems to be normal. There are only three messages appearing in the top menu bar. One is from Mr. Whitman, one is from Rory, and one is from Parker. I wonder why Unknown was so persistent about me turning on my phone. I press on Rory’s message first and it’s the usual, “How are you?” and “What’s going on?” text. Parker’s message is a little more interesting, asking if we can chat somewhere tonight in private. In private? Well, the last time we were in private… Shaking the thought out of my head, I continue on to Mr. Whitman’s picture message. While I’m perusing the proof images he sent over, my phone signals when another message comes through. I bet it’s from Unknown. Closing out of Mr. Whitman’s text after saving the pictures, I open the one from Unknown.

185/494

Do as I say or your little video goes viral… “Son of a bitch,” I curse to myself. That video can’t get out. I know this person isn’t bluffing because of what they did in the computer lab. Against my better judgment, I reply: What do I have to do? There’s a little lull between texts, but then another message comes through: To Kill a Mockingbird…find it. “To Kill a Mockingbird? What, like the book?” I rise from the chair and head out of the back office toward the front of the store. “Done with break already?” Joan asks from behind the counter as I pass her. “Not quite,” I reply, heading into the stacks to locate Harper Lee in the classics section. Scanning the bookshelves, I finally come upon Lee and pluck one of the five copies we have of To Kill a Mockingbird from the shelf. I’ve read this book a million times, but now I’m scared to even crack it open, fearing what will be

186/494

within its pages. As I begin to flip through the book, I find nothing. No writing, no pictures, no notes…nothing. I reach out for the copy next to the one I took in hopes this will be the one, but as I grab for it, I notice the fourth copy over has a small X etched on its spine. Pulling it out, I feel there’s something within the pages and can see the book bulging at the center. I turn to the middle of the book and find a folded piece of college-ruled notebook paper stuck there. The message on the paper reads: Remember it’s a sin to kill a mockingbird…and oops, you just did. Well, not directly… Is Janice the mockingbird? Is Janice dead? I really don’t think I can handle this right now. This isn’t funny or even remotely entertaining, and for the record, it never has been. There’s still more to the message: Death of a Salesman…find it! I really don’t want to play anymore, but I can’t risk that video getting out. I’m at the beck

187/494

and call of this sick freak, and there’s nothing I can do about it. Okay, so Arthur Miller wrote Death of a Salesman, and technically it should still be in the classics, since it is one. I look through the shelves again, perusing for Miller. “It should be right here near Lee,” I tell myself when I can’t find it right away. “Miller, found it.” I look for the copy with the X on it because there are three. Taking the marked one, I flip it open to the middle of the book and find another folded piece of paper. The message reads: You’re liked, but you’re not well liked. “What the hell’s that supposed to mean?” I ask in a severe whisper, feeling confused and uneasy at the same time. This person is really testing my patience. There’s more: The Masque of the Red Death…find it! That’s one of my all-time favorite Edgar Allan Poe stories. I wonder if this person knows that. I wonder how well this person knows me in

188/494

general. I mean, the person knows my schedule, where I work, has access to my school, my house. The more I think about it, the more fearful and vulnerable I feel. Clearly this person has done something to Janice, and now I’m officially the next target. “How is this all going to end?” I ask myself before tracking down Poe in the stacks. I know the aisle that Poe is in very well, and it takes me no time at all to find the book. I’ve spent many slow days here, perusing Poe’s works over and over again until I committed most of them to memory. There are only two copies of the book—one is the standalone print copy, and the other is a part of the giant book of Poe. I don’t see an X on either one. Picking up the print copy, I don’t feel anything inside of it. There’s no bulge, and nothing falls out when I shake the book open with its pages facing downward. I place that copy back on the shelf and pluck out the big book of Poe. I already know what

189/494

page number The Masque of the Red Death starts on, so I immediately turn to it. There’s nothing there either. Then something dawns on me and I hurry out to where I last saw my boss. “Joan, didn’t we have two paperback copies of Poe’s The Masque of the Red Death?” I ask, seeing her helping a customer at the checkout counter. “Yeah, I just sold it to this gentleman here,” she replies, holding up the book for me to see. I go into panic mode and try to think of some excuse to get that book back. A stroke of genius hits me like a lightning bolt as I rush over to the counter. “Hey, let me see that copy real quick,” I say, extending my hand out for it. “Why?” Joan asks, confused. “Yeah, why?” the customer chimes in, also reaching for the book. “Come on, I’ve got to get going. I need to have this read before class tomorrow.”

190/494

I see Joan about to hand it over to the guy, and I pipe up. “Wait—is there an X on the spine of that book?” Joan looks at the spine. “Yeah, there is.” “That’s the defective copy. I marked it myself after reading some of it. It’s got some weird printing issues, and I just forgot to pull it from the shelf,” I lie, but I have to get that book. “That’s okay. I just need to read it for class,” the guy insists. Thankfully, Joan hesitates and then replies, “Dani will you please grab the other copy for this gentleman so that he can be on his way? We don’t sell defective copies in this store.” “Got it. I’ll take that copy and do the return paperwork if you want, Joan,” I offer. “Good idea,” she says, giving me the book. I breathe an internal sigh of relief once I have the book in my hands. I seriously have to fight every temptation to not just rip it open and find the next message right then and there.

191/494

Hurrying back into the stacks to retrieve the other copy for the customer, I find myself succumbing to my want to see what’s inside. The bulge feels a little different in this one, and I’m surprised that neither the guy who was buying it nor Joan felt this and thought it was odd. Opening the book to the middle, I don’t find a piece of paper. Instead I find my other skull-andcrossbones earring taped to the page. I want to scream, but find that no sound comes out. These earrings were on my dresser last night. I know they were because I took them off and put them there myself. This person has been in my room—probably while I was sleeping. Why didn’t the person just kill me then, or kidnap me? Why is Unknown toying with me? My phone pings, signaling that a message has come through. Waking up the phone, I see it’s from Unknown. Scary stuff, huh? Just imagine what I could’ve done…

192/494

There’s a picture attached to the message. I open it and gasp when I see it’s a photo of me sleeping. I drop my phone and crouch down in the aisle, not knowing what to do next. Tears fill my eyes as I think about the fact that this person watched me sleep. Unknown has invaded my personal space. Alone doesn’t even begin to describe how I’m feeling right now. The worst part is that no one will believe this is even happening, since Unknown will probably erase all the evidence. I hear my boss call out to me from the front counter. “Uh, Dani, he’s waiting.” Regaining my composure, I grab the phone and stand up. Wiping my eyes, I say, “I’m coming, Joan.” Quickly checking my messages from Unknown again, I see they’re all gone… just as I suspected they would be.

Chapter Fourteen When I get home, I grab a kitchen knife from the wooden block on the counter and proceed to lock every door and every window, then check under every bed and in every closet. I would’ve grabbed the gun my dad keeps in the house, but he seems to have put it in a new hiding place. I hate the fact that I beat my dad home and he’s not here for an extra level of protection. I make sure not to overlook any access point or hiding place during my search. It takes me about twenty minutes to secure the majority of the house. The only thing left then is to take care of my bedroom. Every possible horror movie scenario enters my mind as I approach the bedroom door. I feel my heartbeat pulsing throughout my entire body and hear it hammering in my ears. I’m pretty sure it’s beating so loud that if there is someone in the house, he or she has already heard me coming.

194/494

The door to my room is slightly ajar. I push it the rest of the way with my foot, holding the knife in the “ready to stab” position. The creak of the door makes me even more uneasy as I slowly creep into the room. I see the closet door is shut, and my window looks closed from where I’m standing. Never letting down my guard, I head over to the window to check and see if it’s actually shut and locked. I’m surprised to find it is. “Okay, so if the window is locked, how did the person get in?” I ask myself. Suddenly, a noise sounds from the closet. If hearts could explode from fear, I’m pretty sure mine would. I’m so scared that I can’t even muster a scream. It’s odd, but my fear causes me to be intensely focused. All I see is the closet door in front of me. The rest of the room is one big blur. Another shuffling sound emanates from the closet and I jump back, waiting for someone to rush out at me.

195/494

“Screw this shit,” I mutter, cautiously retracing my steps back to the bedroom door, but never taking my eyes off the closet. As I reach the door, I look at the knife in my hand and feel empowered, like I can take on anything. A false sense of empowerment, I’m sure, but I’m getting tired of this. If no one is going to believe me anyway, I might as well face it headon. “Just so you know, I’ve got a huge fucking knife, and I’m not afraid to use it,” I call out at the closet as I approach it. Clasping my hand around the door’s handle, I count to ten in my mind, take in a deep breath, and fling it open. I swing the knife around wildly into the dark of the closet, just in case someone is standing there. When I don’t connect with anything, I reach for the chain attached to the closet light and pull it, casting the whole space in a soft, golden glow. On the floor, I see a few boxes that have fallen off the shelf, their contents strewn everywhere.

196/494

“So that explains the noises,” I try to convince myself. My heart slows and a sense of calm comes over me as I realize this was a false alarm. Kneeling down, I begin to collect my belongings and stuff them back into the boxes. Putting them back on the shelves, I click off the light and close the closet door. Then someone takes hold of the hand that has the knife in it. Another hand wraps over my mouth, stifling my panicked squeals. I find myself cradled within strong arms and I can’t move. “Easy with the knife,” I hear a familiar male voice say in my ear. It sounds like Parker, but I can’t see his face. I drop the knife to the floor and the person spins me around to face them. “Damn, you’re hot when you’re scared,” Parker comments with a grin. “I can’t fucking believe you! I could’ve stabbed the shit out of you, you know that?” I yell, and release all the pent-up fear on him by slapping him numerous times on the chest.

197/494

“Scratch that, you’re much hotter when you’re angry,” he jokes. “Come on, hit me again. I kind of liked that.” “Parker, this is serious, okay? It’s not a fucking joke. Someone’s after me, and the last thing I needed was you scaring the ever-living shit out of me by hiding in my room! How did you even get in here anyway? The window’s locked.” “Well, the window may be locked, but the front door was wide open.” “The front door was open? That was the first thing I locked when I got home,” I say, confused. “Are you sure you locked it?” he asks, worry registering on his face as he approaches me. “Positive.” When he sees the fear reflected on my face, he says, “Damn, I’m so sorry, Dani. I shouldn’t have just snuck in. Especially with what you’ve been going through. It was a dick move.” He raises my chin with his hand, making me look at him.

198/494

“Someone’s after me, Parker, and I’m scared shitless. This person was in my room last night and took a picture of me sleeping. And now, they’ve unlocked my front door somehow.” “Wait—the person who’s been sending you these texts sent you a picture of you sleeping?” I nod with misty eyes. “Have you told your dad?” he asks, placing his hand on my shoulder. “Yeah, but the shitty part is that all the texts are gone—every single one of them. Without any hard evidence, he won’t believe me. Hell, I just lied to him about a slew of things. To say that he doesn’t trust me right now would be a huge understatement.” As the first tear runs down my cheek, it’s brushed away by Parker’s thumb. Then the floodgates open and I completely lose it. Parker’s arms wrap around me and he begins rocking side to side. I hear him say, “I’m right here. Nothing’s going to happen to you,” while my head rests against his firm chest. My tears begin to soak the

199/494

area of his T-shirt supporting my head. I shift back to look up at him. “You okay?” “I feel a little better, I guess,” I reply, snuggling back up against him. I wasn’t lying. Being in Parker’s arms is making me feel better. For the first time I don’t feel alone in this. “Good.” I hear his worry for me in the tone of his voice. He’s holding me like I may disappear if he lets go. This is Parker truly caring for me, that I know for sure. He may have his asshole side too, but who doesn’t? “After the day I’ve had, I’m glad you’re the one here with me,” I say softly. All of the animosity I’ve been holding in fades while Parker continues to hold me in his arms. I know that once he’s gone again, I’ll probably go back to being irked with him, but for now, this seems right. Parker runs his fingers through my hair, which relaxes me and reminds me how much I

200/494

used to love when he did that. His gentle caress moves to my left cheek as the back of his hand grazes my skin. He then lifts my chin so I’m looking directly into his eyes. “Me too,” he replies before placing a soft kiss on my lips. It’s a quick kiss and not one of passion or love, but more like one of comfort. A kiss that’s sole purpose is to make me feel safe. Or is it an invitation for more? I lick my lips, feeling every crease while contemplating kissing him again. He smirks, probably realizing what I’m mulling over, because he’s most likely considering the same thing. Wrapping my hand around the back of his head, I ease his face down to mine until we’re practically nose-to-nose. I smell the cinnamon gum on his breath as he lets out a small laugh. His lips tease mine, but pull away before they connect. His arms drape around my waist and he tugs me closer to him, close enough that a Catholic schoolteacher would blush. The tension

201/494

between our bodies is palpable, so much so that I can feel it even through our clothes. I’m not sure if I’m just being overly emotional right now, or if my deep-rooted feelings for Parker are coming to the surface, but I’m all kinds of flustered—just like the first night we ever spent together. Parker places a kiss on my forehead, teasing me some more. His lips trail down the side of my neck and he leaves a kiss there too. The heat from his mouth sends chills spiraling all over my body, and I let out the tiniest moan of satisfaction. I roughly massage the back of his neck with my hand, allowing him to feel every little thing he’s doing to me. He trails his lips along my collarbone, one small kiss after another, ending at the other side. I pull his head back and smile once the sensation becomes too much. He groans in protest, wanting to return to what he was doing. Instead, I plant my mouth on his. I feel completely entangled with him. His arms squeeze me tighter and he scoops me up, so

202/494

I wrap my legs around his waist. I feel every one of his muscles constrict under his clothes as he walks me over to the bed. I begin to feel so hot, overheating, but I don’t care. I’ve waited for this moment to happen again for years, though I never admitted it to myself. Parker lays me down on the bed, hovering over me in a push-up position and straddling my chest with his arms. “I’ve missed you more than you know,” he whispers in my ear. Those words resonate deeply within me, and I just clutch my arms around his well-defined back, pulling him closer, our faces mere inches apart. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear those words from you,” I whisper back. As he leans in to kiss me, I hear the worst sound I could ever hear at this very moment. The front door opens and closes. “Dani, I’m home,” my dad calls out.

203/494

“Shit. He’ll kill you if he finds you in here with me,” I say to Parker, whose eyes are the size of golf balls. “He’s got a gun, huh?” Parker asks semi-jokingly, but I hear the trepidation in his voice. “Yep. A revolver, remember?” “Shit,” is all he gets out as he pushes himself off the bed. I hear my dad coming up the stairs. “Hurry—in the closet,” I tell Parker when I see him heading for the window. “He’ll see you if you go out that way now.” Parker listens and rushes over to the closet, quietly shutting the door behind him. He opens it really quickly and gives me a peck on the mouth, just before closing it again. I lean against it with a goofy smile plastered on my face, forgetting for a moment that my father is just outside the room. His knock is stiff and booming. “Come in,” I say, sitting in the chair next to my desk, pretending to do homework.

204/494

“Just coming to check on you,” he says as he opens the door. “As you can see, I’m fine,” I reply, in a tone that lets him know I’m still irritated with him. He just stands there, not saying anything. I can feel him staring at me while I scan over some random pieces of paper that are scattered across my desk. I turn to look at him and say, “Is there something else you wanted?” He releases a grumble and runs his hand through his hair. “I guess not,” he replies and begins to close the door. “Oh, wait. There is something I wanted to tell you.” “Yeah?” “Janice’s story is going to air tonight on the local news. They’re conducting a full investigation and a complete sweep of the woods where she was last seen. I wouldn’t be surprised if they make an announcement about it at school tomorrow.”

205/494

“Do you still think I had something to do with this?” “I don’t know, Dani. I want to believe you, but I’m finding that hard right now,” he replies with a sad expression. “I see.” “I’ve had a long day. We’ll talk later about this, okay?” “Sure, looking forward to it,” I grumble. “Good night, Dani.” “‘Night.” When he closes the bedroom door, I see the closet begin to open. Parker pokes out his head and asks if he can come out. I give him the signal to wait until I hear my dad’s footsteps clear the stairs, then I wave him out. “That was close,” he laughs, giving me another peck on the lips. I can tell he wants to pick up where we left off when he begins kissing my neck again, but I stop him and pull his face in front of mine.

206/494

“Hey, I have a weird request,” I say, looking him in the eyes. “What’s up?” he asks, a thoughtful expression now on his face. “Can you stay here until I fall asleep? I’d feel a lot safer with you in the room.” “Sure,” he replies and goes in for another kiss. I let him, but pull back right after. “Not like that, though. Believe me, there’s nothing more I’d rather do than kiss you right now, but I feel weird with my dad just downstairs.” “Yeah, I know what you mean. I’d love to be next to you while you sleep,” he says, taking my hand and leading me to the bed. At this point, I don’t even care that I have homework to do. My focus is on Parker’s strong arms encompassing me. I’ve always loved lying beside him. It’s like our bodies were meant to rest right next to each other. My happiness begins to chip away when I remember someone has me in their sights. Will

207/494

Parker be safe around me? Am I putting him in danger? Questions fill my mind, and I grip tighter onto Parker’s arms, trying to ease my worry and feel more secure. I only hope this isn’t a false sense of security.

Chapter Fifteen I gasp, pulling in a heavy breath as I shoot up in bed. The nightmare I was just having replays in my head on fast forward. Flashes of images fill my mind, and my temples begin to ache while trying to make sense of the visual fragments. Wiping away the beads of sweat running down my forehead, I attempt to focus on my surroundings. The room is dark and I can’t even see two feet in front of my face. When my eyes finally adjust, I start to see the faint outlines of the furniture around my room. A hand rests on my hip and I realize that Parker’s still lying there. When the sound of his light snoring flows through my ears, I smile while looking down at his face. It’s framed by the dim light from the lamppost outside shining through the open sliver in the curtains. He shifts, but doesn’t wake up. It occurs to me that I’ve never seen him asleep before. We’ve

209/494

never really gotten to this point, and the last time I woke up, thinking he’d still be there, he wasn’t. Maybe he’s changed. I know I have. I think back to the night we first made love, reliving every emotion and feeling. There are no words for how Parker made me feel. He treated me like a princess. I was his sole focus the whole time, even though it was his graduation we were celebrating. I remember being in mid-conversation with one of my friends when he grabbed my hand and snuck me away from the party to the forest behind his house. He led me to this small clearing with a tent set up in the center of it. A bottle of his parent’s finest champagne was nestled in a bucket of ice next to a roaring fire. It was uber romantic, like our own little private getaway. That’s why I was more than eager to renounce my virginity crown. It felt like the perfect time. I thought he had gone to such lengths to show me that what we had was the real thing. Maybe he just did it because he knew he was leaving soon, and wanted to make a lasting

210/494

impression. Instead, it made waking up alone the next morning that much more harsh. But right now as I lay next to him, it reminds me of how Parker can make me feel. I must mean something to him if he came back to me after almost three years...right? I study his facial features as I run my hand across them. He looks so peaceful, not to mention gorgeous. That’s real talent there, retaining your gorgeousness even while you sleep. He really is the total package for me. Except for the annoying habit he has of acting like a stereotypical jerk sometimes, but I’m starting to believe that might actually be a reason I’m so drawn to him. Resting my cheek on his chest, I cuddle up close to him and wrap my legs around one of his. His fingers begin to trace circles on my back before finding a place to rest on my shoulder. “Good morning,” he says quietly after kissing the top of my head. “Technically, it’s still evening. Oh crap, you better get going,” I respond, realizing that it

211/494

probably wasn’t such a great thing that he fell asleep. My father could’ve come in at any moment, gun in hand. He answers me with a kiss. “I’ll leave soon, promise. But first,” he begins and plants his lips on mine again, kissing me senseless. I become lightheaded, giving in to what we both really want. He pulls back, me still reeling from the effects of his lips, and grins. “Now, I can go.” “You’re such a tease. You know that, right?” “Takes one to know one,” he replies. “I really better get going.” “Yeah, probably for the best. Since your odds of having a run-in with a certain revolver is ever increasing the longer you’re here.” He laughs. “Well, there’s always that.” Rolling off the bed, he strolls over to the window. He has this way of doing things that infatuates me. Phoebe and I used to call it his “Parker swagger.” I used to think everything he did was sexy—and I guess I still do.

212/494

He slides the window open and looks over at me with a smirk on his face. He steps through, but then stops once he’s outside and perched on the lattice fence. “Come here,” he says, poking his head back through the window to look at me. “What?” I whisper into the quiet room, but instead of a direct answer, he just motions to me, waving me over with a nod of his head. Standing in front of him, I lean down to be on his level. He steals a kiss without saying another word before heading downward. “One for the road,” he calls up to me while he continues to descend. “That was a cheap shot, Mr. Reed,” I whisper down to him. He smirks again. The light from Janice’s room catches my eye. When I look over, I see Hattie peering through the curtains at me. Did she see my kiss with Parker? The heavily judgmental look on her face makes me think she did. I wave, letting her know that I see her, but she doesn’t return it. She

213/494

proceeds to close the curtain, and then turns off the light a few moments later. I shut and lock the window before rushing back to my bed to lie down on the spot where Parker was. It feels so warm, and his cologne clings to the sheets and pillow. I breathe in, feeling like he’s still there with me. His scent brings me a sense of comfort and security that I was starting to lose the moment he left. Hearing the message notification chime from my phone echo throughout the room, I lift my head to look over at it on the desk. The little blue LED light is flashing rapidly. Dread sets in as I alight from the bed to check the message. My first instinct is to just ignore it and it will go away, but who am I kidding? This unknown person has snuck into my room while I’m sleeping. I don’t think he or she is going away anytime soon. Picking up the phone, I unlock the screen and click on my messages icon. I smile when it’s a text from Parker: Wish I could’ve stayed the night.

214/494

I hold the phone close to my heart, reliving the momentous kissing that happened between us a few hours ago. I become a little hot and bothered when I take the make-out session a little further in my head than it actually went. My focus is drawn back to the phone when another message comes through. Thinking it’s a continuation from Parker’s text, I eagerly press on the messages icon again. This one’s not from Parker, though: What would your father think? At first, I’m confused by the message—that is, until the picture comes through. It’s one of Parker kissing me through the window. I run over to the window and scan the yard below for any sign of someone, but there’s no one there. The picture looks like it was taken from the right side of the yard, looking up at my room. It’s blurry and not completely in focus, but there’s no mistaking who’s in the picture. I stare back down at the phone, fear setting in and the feeling of being secure completely swept out

215/494

from under me. I worry this is only going to get worse.

After the local news report last night, today at school was all about Janice’s disappearance. The fact that the news openly stated she went missing at Gunnar’s party makes the situation even more of a hot-button topic. To say I received the cold shoulder from the majority of the student body who attended said party is putting it lightly. It’s no secret that my dad grilled Gunnar for information about Janice, and I guess everyone now assumes I was the snitch. Technically, they’re right. “Did you get the plague and not tell me?” Alex jokes, coming up next to me as I sift through my locker. I just roll my eyes and don’t answer. “It’s just that I’ve noticed a lot of people giving you a serious case of stink eye.” “Really? Huh, didn’t even notice,” I respond.

216/494

“Sorry, I couldn’t resist,” she says, wrapping her arm around me and pulling me in for a side hug. “I kind of wish you could’ve, though.” “Hey, I know something that will cheer you up. Want to know what it is?” “Sure,” I reply, though I’m not at all convinced that it will cheer me up. “You, me, Rory, and the Brick House. This Saturday night. The band is performing there, and I know how much you love hearing us play.” She sounds excited, but then falters when she doesn’t see the same enthusiasm reflected on my face. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry. Did you really get the plague?” she jokes again, which causes me to crack a smile even though it was a bad joke. “Ha, I knew I could do it—mission accomplished. I figured you needed a laugh after what I heard today.” “What exactly did you hear?” “Oh, you didn’t hear?” she replies, dodging my stare.

217/494

“Uhhh, no. I wouldn’t have asked otherwise.” She pauses before she starts to answer. “Rumor is you snitched on Gunnar’s party.” “Oh, that. Yeah, I knew about that,” I say, pulling out two schoolbooks and placing them in my messenger bag. “Wait, there’s more,” Alex says, almost like she’s about to tell me a secret. “People are kind of saying you’re somehow responsible for that Janice girl’s disappearance. And by ‘people,’ I mean Portia and her bitch squad. Gunnar may have mentioned it as well, but there’s really no telling, right?” Her hollow laugh sounds nervous and I can tell by her face that I must be making a strange one. “What the shit?” I blurt out, feeling enveloped with anger, while at the same time trying to ward off the sting of multiple backstabbings. “Yeah, totally agree,” she says in a consoling tone with a hand on my shoulder. “Which is even more of a reason why we should go dance off

218/494

these shitheads and get drunk at the Brick House Saturday night.” “I don’t know, Alex. My dad’s really been on my case lately, and now it seems he’s not the only one who thinks I’m to blame for Janice. And let’s not forget, I’m kind of grounded for life,” I reply, sounding defeated. Not to mention there’s this crazy psycho bastard out there effing with me. “Please, please, please. If it’s any consolation, I don’t think you had anything to do with the whole Janice thing.” Regretting the words even before they leave my mouth, I say, “I’ll see. I can’t promise anything, though.” “Perfect. Hey, that’s better than no, right?” she replies with a huge grin before wrapping me up in another hug. “Right,” I say, thinking to myself that I wish she knew what I was going through. Then she might not be so insistent.

219/494

As I watch her walk away, a scary thought enters my mind. If Unknown is so hell-bent on messing with me, I wonder how long it will take for the person to start taking it out on the ones I love. I shudder at the thought. My locker slams behind me and I turn to see who did it. Gunnar stands there with a shit-eating grin on his face, but it doesn’t quite meet his eyes. “I really wish you’d stop doing that,” I say. “Stop doing what exactly?” he asks. “Whatever. I assume that since you slammed my locker, you have something you want to tell me?” “You know, there was a time when I thought you were kind of cool, Dani. But it turns out you’re just a little nark,” he replies, the grin now gone from his face. “I didn’t mean to nark on you. My dad just has this way of getting the truth out of people. He didn’t become sheriff for nothing, you know. ”

220/494

“It’s just a shame it all went down like this. I was kind of starting to like you,” he says, sounding completely conceited. “Like I’d be interested in you anyway,” I counter. “I could have any girl in this school, and you’re telling me you wouldn’t be interested in this?” he asks, pulling up his shirt and showing off his chiseled abs. “Yeah, pretty much.” “Well, it doesn’t matter. I don’t date nark bitches like you,” he comments, making me want to punch him right in the throat. “Screw you, Gunnar,” I say before walking away. “No thanks, I think I’ll pass,” I hear him call out after me, which only succeeds in making my footsteps that much angrier as I stomp down the hall.

Chapter Sixteen Sitting in the newspaper office after school, I can’t shake how everyone’s been treating me all day. First Gunnar, and then Portia got her chops in with her twat squad by her side. I swear, if looks could kill I’d probably be dead a hundred times over already. Screw Hester Prynne, I freakin’ have the scarlet letter on my chest. “You okay?” I hear Mr. Whitman ask over my computer screen. “You seem to be out of it today.” Grown-ups can be so oblivious to what’s going on around them. Of course, Mr. Whitman probably hasn’t heard the latest gossip. It’s kind of refreshing to talk to someone who isn’t looking at me like I just ran over his family pet or something. “Just tired…been a long day,” I reply.

222/494

“Should I even inquire how the essay’s coming?” he asks with a slight chuckle, clearly already aware of the answer. I shake my head and resort to hiding behind the large monitor. Thankfully, that’s the end of that discussion, but the quick look I receive from him after my response doesn’t bode well for me. There’s actually something else I’m thinking about as well. I find it odd that Unknown hasn’t erased the picture of Parker and me last night from my messages. Staring at it, I begin to fidget in anticipation of Parker walking through the door so I can show him. I need him to see this so at least someone will truly believe me, and not just tell me what they think I want to hear. I don’t even give Parker a chance to fully cross the threshold into the room before I bolt from behind my desk and grab his hand, dragging him into the hall behind me. His first reaction is to try and kiss me, but I put up my hand in front of his lips, blocking him.

223/494

“Not right now. I have something to show you,” I say quietly. “Oh you do, do you?” he asks while scanning me up and down. I swear, guys can be such horn dogs. “Seriously, Parker, check your hormones at the door. This isn’t funny, all right?” He completely snaps out of his frisky demeanor and becomes serious. “Is this about that unknown person?” he asks in a whisper. Nodding, I pull up the picture on my cell and show it to him. He grabs the phone from me and studies it carefully, even zooming in with a twofinger gesture on the screen to see it clearer. “This is really creepy, Dani.” “Tell me about it. I’ve been getting stuff like this for days from this asshole, and frankly, I’m getting tired of it.” “Are you going to show your dad?” he asks, and then realizes how dumb that would be since it’s a picture of him and me at night right outside my window.

224/494

“Do I even have to answer that question?” He shakes his head while handing me back the phone. “This is seriously messed up. And you said this person also sent you a video of us too, right?” “Yep. In all our glory.” “What are we going to do? Is there any way to trace this message back to the sender?” “I don’t know, probably. But that would require us giving the phone to my father. And we’ve kind of already established that as being a bad idea. Besides, what makes you think this one won’t disappear like the rest?” I ask, feeling utterly hopeless. “Well, there’s got to be something we—” “Shit,” I say, cutting him off. “It’s gone. Damn this bastard. Damn this Text Destruct app. Unknown keeps doing this to me. What have I done that could possibly warrant this?” I throw up my hands and turn to lean up against the bank of lockers next to us. Sliding down the cool metal and resting on the ground, I

225/494

fold my arms onto my knees and bury my head into them. I feel Parker’s arms wrap around my shoulders as he slides down next to me. “We’ll figure something out, okay? This asshole isn’t getting away with this.” “I want to believe you, I really do.” I don’t think I’ve ever sounded so defeated in my whole life. Giving me a light squeeze and kiss on the top of my head, Parker and I sit there in silence for a moment. “We should probably get back into the office before they send out a search party.” I look at him with the “really?” face fully present and accounted for. “Oh, my bad. Probably not the best choice of words right now, huh?” “You think?” I respond and bury my head back into the cradle of my arms. “It’s okay. That’s actually the least offensive thing someone’s said to me all day. It’s kind of a welcome change.”

226/494

“I’m sorry you’re going through all this right now, Dani. I wish there was something I could do to help,” he says close to my ear. “You’re pretty much doing all you can,” I reply, and give him a heartfelt peck on the cheek. Parker stands and moves in front of me. He extends his hand and waits for me to grab it. Instead of being my stubborn self, I take his hand and allow him to pull me to my feet. “We’ll face this together…deal?” he asks, making me smile. I love seeing this side of him. “Deal,” I reply as he leads me toward the office door. When we re-enter the room, Mr. Whitman turns to us. “Just in time, you two. We were discussing the Fall Festival tonight and how Jenny’s out sick.” Confusion registers on my face as to what either thing has to do with the other. “Oh, I forgot to tell you. Jenny was going to run the newspaper’s booth at the festival. Since she’s sick, I was curious if you’d do it, Dani.”

227/494

Perfect timing indeed, Mr. Whitman. You’re on a roll, sir. I wasn’t even planning on going to the damn festival, but now I get the chance to. Yippee. Mulling over my options, I reply with the only thing I can. “Sure, why not.”

Usually I’m in a good mood while driving to work since I’m surrounded by two of my favorite things there: books and coffee. But today I’m effin’ ecstatic, if only for the simple fact that I won’t be at school anymore. Talk about an awkward-ass day. The only thing that’s stopping me from being full-on excited is the fact that my job has been compromised by Unknown. The one visual I’m not expecting to see on my way to work is Mrs. Oliver posting up more flyers about Janice. I slow down and pull up to the curb when I see her taping one to the light post on the street corner a few blocks down from Into the Stacks. I’m not sure what I’m planning

228/494

to do, exactly, since I’m pretty sure this conversation isn’t going to go very well. But instead of hiding from it, I might as well face the music. She’s bound to find out that I took Janice to the party sooner or later. “Hi, Mrs. Oliver. Need any help putting those up? I’ve got some time before work,” I offer after rolling down the passenger side window. She doesn’t answer me. It’s like she either didn’t hear me, which I know isn’t the case, or she’s ignoring me. “I’m really sorry for what’s happened to Janice. If I can do anything—” I stop talking the moment Hattie finishes posting the flyer in her hand. She proceeds to bend down, poking her head through the open window. Her trademark glare is ever-present. “Heathen,” she yells before she rears back to spit at me. Surprise and disgust register on my face as I wipe off her saliva. “What the hell is your damage?” I ask. Anger makes my voice tremble. “I was only trying to help.”

229/494

“God will judge you and you shall pay for your evil deeds, heathen. That is how you may help me,” she declares, drawing a cross in the air as she speaks. “Crazy bitch,” I murmur as I drive away, not looking back. When I get to work, I run to the bathroom to wash off my face. Joan tries to flag me down, but I feel too gross to stop and chat. Besides, I’m at work early. Emerging from the bathroom, I practically crash into Joan. She’s standing there with her hands on her hips and tapping her foot. “I can’t believe you just ignored me like that,” she says. “Sorry, I had to wash someone’s spit off my face. Priorities…you understand, right?” I reply. “Eww, gross,” she comments, scrunching up her mouth and nose. “My sentiments exactly. Hence, the facewashing and no chatting.”

230/494

“Anyway, I need you to run the café tonight. Monica’s had a family thing and won’t be in. I’ve pretty much got the sales floor covered.” I groan internally, but I can’t promise a little didn’t seep out for Joan to hear. “Sure thing. Remind me to strangle Monica later, okay?” I joke, making her laugh. “Not if I do it first. This is like the fifth time this month she’s called in.” “Oh, it’s been six times. I know because every time she does, I have to work the café.” Joan laughs. “All right, suit up. You’ve already got customers,” she says, nodding her head toward the back office. Throwing on the apron, I head out to the café and see Joan wasn’t lying. There’s a line. Taking my post behind the counter, I begin prepping the coffee machine so I can take the first order. It isn’t until I look past the register that I see a familiar face standing in front of me. “Hey stranger, how’s Lexi?” Kevin asks with a smile.

231/494

“She’s still hanging in there,” I giggle. “So, what can I get you?” “A large pumpkin spice latte,” he replies, pointing to it on the menu. “Large, huh? Got a hot date tonight or something?” “Actually, yeah I do,” he answers, surprising me. Has he finally gotten over me and moved on? I swear, Kevin hasn’t dated anyone since he proclaimed his love for me back in middle school. He’s a looker too, which is why I’ve been surprised no girl has swept him off his feet yet. “Oh, really? What’s her name? Do I know her?” I ask, wiggling my eyebrows. “In fact, you do.” “Do tell,” I reply, pouring the steamed milk into his cup. He chuckles. “It’s my truck, Valerie. I’m working on her tonight at the shop until the Fall Festival.” I roll my eyes. “You really had me going there for a minute.”

232/494

“Sorry, you kind of walked straight into that one.” “That I did, sir,” I reply, handing him his coffee. “So, is that all for you?” “Actually, no. I was kind of wondering if we could talk about Janice.” “Uhhh…” I’m uncomfortable with the way he just came right out and said that. “Right now might not be the best time,” I say, gesturing to the line of customers behind him. “Oh, yeah, right…that whole thing,” he answers while peering back. Turning around to face me again, he adds, “I just wanted to say I don’t believe the rumors. I know you had nothing to do with it.” I want to shush him and stress that we can talk about this later since the conversation is making me feel awkward as balls right now. It’s bad enough people actually think I had something to do with this, but now I’m in a conversation about it in public.

233/494

Keeping my calm, I reply, “Thanks, but you’re definitely in the minority with that viewpoint.” I notice how agitated a few of the customers standing behind him are getting. “Can we talk about this later?” “Yeah, sure,” he responds. “I’ll see you tonight at the festival, right?” “Oh, shit. I mean, crap,” I correct myself quickly when I see some of the customers giving me dirty looks. “I completely forgot about that. Yeah, I guess you will.” “Later,” Kevin calls out and I send him a wave. As I begin to take down the order of the next customer, I can’t help but be distracted that Kevin didn’t seem too torn up about Janice. Here I am, a complete mess over the situation, but he seems reserved. Maybe he’s just doing what a lot of guys do and internalizing his feelings. It’s still kind of weird, though, since the whole time I’ve known him, he’s been quite the emotional guy.

234/494

As I watch him leave the store, this tiny bad thought weaves its way into my mind. Is Kevin involved with this? Does he know more than he’s letting on? Nah. It’d be too easy for it to be him.

Chapter Seventeen Flustered and a touch rattled later that evening, I hurry into the school’s gym and maneuver through the many rows of booths at the festival to get to ours. I’m running late due to Dad giving me the parental fifth degree. If he reminds me one more time that I’m grounded and on thin ice, I may completely lose it. It’s becoming like a ritual for him to torture me every day. Luckily, I got a break from his chauffer services because he allowed me to drive myself tonight. Oh, and you better believe I didn’t hear the end of that one, either. My shoulder suddenly collides with someone, and I turn to apologize. I stop myself short when I’m met by Gunnar’s sneer. Perfect. This is the exact person I wanted to run into right now. “Watch where you’re going, you little nark,” he says.

236/494

“Why don’t you just drop dead, Gunnar,” I respond while walking past him. I hear him make a snide comment behind me, but instead of retaliating with words, I just flip him off as I continue to move away. The sign for the newspaper’s booth comes into view when I turn the corner and move into the next aisle. I smile when I see Parker sitting underneath it, suavely leaning back in a chair with his feet propped up on the table and a contented look on his face. “Looks like it’s just you and me tonight,” he comments when I reach the booth. “Where’s everyone else? And wait, our booth is a dunk tank? When was this discussed?” “I think at the last meeting. Wow, did my kiss wreck your memory that bad? I always knew it would be a weapon for evil one day,” he laughs. I appreciate the fact he’s trying to lighten the situation, but seriously? I guess I’m dealing with stereotypical guy Parker tonight.

237/494

“So, do you want to be the dunkee or the ball passer-outer?” he asks with a grin, holding up two softballs at waist height in front of him. “I’ll pass out the balls, thank you very much.” “Have it your way,” he states as he sets the balls on the table off to the side and begins to unbuckle his belt. I roll my eyes when he starts humming a horrible rendition of a sexy stripper song as he undresses. “What are you doing?” I ask, finding it hard to keep a straight face. “You don’t expect me to get dunked fully clothed, do you? Besides can you really blame me for wanting to give you a little show? Consider this like the coming attractions.” “You’re such a dork.” “I know, but you love me anyway.” A blush creeps up my cheeks at the mere mention of that word from his lips. It begins to deepen when Parker drops his pants, revealing his red boxer-briefs with a black waistband. I’m seriously having a hard time holding back my

238/494

enjoyment of this view. His legs are perfectly toned, not too muscular and not too skinny, just right. Parker slowly starts to unbutton his shirt, toying with me at each button. I’m just glad we’re in the back corner of the gym so no one else can see what he’s doing right now. “Will you just get undressed already,” I say, but I secretly wish he’d go slower. “If that’s what you want,” he replies, and then rips open his shirt, unveiling his sleeveless white undershirt. His arms tense as he balls up the dark blue flannel he just removed and throws it at me. The scent of his cologne flows through the air when I catch the shirt. My mouth begins to water, wanting to devour his. He doesn’t even have to flex his muscles to have them ripple with every one of his movements. I’m not sure if I’m drooling right now, but I wipe the edges of my mouth just in case. Then a thought hits me as I see Parker heading toward the dunk tank. If someone knocks him

239/494

in, he’ll be wet from head to toe, not leaving much to the imagination. Of course, from where I’m standing, he might not even need to get wet for that to happen. Tonight could prove to be quite entertaining indeed, and a welcome distraction from all the drama. I begin to imagine water coursing all over his body, plastering his shirt to his perfectly-molded chest and abs. Then his boxer-briefs hugging his beautiful legs even closer, and— “Ready to do this?” he asks, interrupting my thoughts. I feel embarrassed, as if he actually heard me thinking out loud. My reply sounds like English to my ears, but if Parker’s face is any indication, it was most likely gibberish. “Yeah,” I say clearly this time. “All right, then. Let’s get moist,” he comments, clapping his hands together. I roll my eyes at his comment as I take my position next to the dunk tank line and he gets situated in his seat.

240/494

Looking off to the right, I see Rory with the rest of the swim team a few booths down from ours. Talk about not leaving anything to the imagination. The whole team is standing there in nothing but swim caps and Speedos. Serious swoon alert. Naturally, the booth is surrounded by girls, but I do notice a couple of guys posted up, talking to Rory. I recognize one of them as a guy Rory’s been crushing on for a while now. He goes to our rival high school and also happens to be a swimmer. The giant smile on Rory’s face tells me everything I need to know about how he’s feeling right now. “Hey you two.” Phoebe’s voice sounds from in front of me. “What’s up, sis,” Parker calls out, but he’s muffled by the wall of plastic he’s perched behind. I clam up for some reason. I’m still not completely comfortable being around both of them at the same time, especially since she’d destroy me if she found out about our recent intimacies. The

241/494

video of Parker and me begins playing in my head, making the situation even more awkward. “Hey, Phoebe.” “So, what have you guys been up to? Making out or something?” she asks with a laugh. “Phoebe, seriously?” I can’t believe she just went there. “I was only kidding. Lighten up. Besides, Parker’s girlfriend would kill him if he even as much looked at another girl. She’s a little too possessive for my taste. Wouldn’t you agree, brother?” Phoebe asks. I turn to see Parker looking at me wide-eyed, like a deer caught in headlights. I’m having the hardest time trying to keep it together and not erupt in a fit of rage toward him. Swallowing down the betrayal and boiling anger rushing through me, I reply, “She must be really nice though, right?” I turn to look back at Parker. He seems mortified, but he stays put—probably since that wall of thick plastic is the only thing separating us

242/494

right now. He looks like he wants to say something, but with Phoebe there, I know why he hasn’t yet. “Yeah, she’s nice. A little young, though. She’s a freshman,” Phoebe answers with a wave of her hand. “Really? Oh that Parker. He definitely has a thing for younger women, huh?” I say, sending another death glare his way. “I guess so,” she laughs, clearly oblivious to the tension that’s occurring right in front of her face. Phoebe wasn’t always the most observant one in the bunch. I mean, it took her physically seeing Parker and me making out to realize we were together back in the day. “Hey, Phoebe, will you excuse me for one second? I see someone I desperately need to talk,” I say, pointing down the row of booths in front of us. Turning, I see Parker making an attempt to move from his seat, probably to come talk to me. I rear back and wind up one of the softballs in my

243/494

hand, hurling it right at the target. A bell chimes as it crashes into the bullseye. The seat under Parker releases, dropping him into the freezing cold water below. A sly smirk appears on my face as I revel in what I just did. He pops up from the water, completely drenched. The miserable look in his big baby blues, almost makes me feel like complete shit. Almost. Phoebe erupts into a fit of laughter. “Nice arm, Dani.” “Yeah, nice throw,” Parker comments, not taking his eyes off me. Handing the other ball to Phoebe, I walk off, not even taking a moment to look back at Parker. I’m so heated right now, I can’t stand it. All I want to do is scream, “You’re so stupid, Dani,” but I can’t. I don’t want to draw any attention to myself. Feeling someone grab my hand, I turn to see it’s Kevin. Perfect. Just what I need. “Hey, where are you off to in such a hurry?” “Bathroom,” I reply, trying to move away.

244/494

“Liar. You’re upset. I can tell,” he argues, clearly seeing through my bullshit. That’s one thing Kevin has always been able to do. “Fine, you caught me. I just need to get out of here for a sec, okay? There’s a lot going on, and I just need to clear my head,” I reply, ripping my hand from his grip. “Dani, I can explain,” I hear Parker say as he comes up behind me. I turn to see him standing there dripping wet. For a split second, I feel sorry for him because he looks cold, but that only lasts for a second. I’m so mad at him right now that not even his amazing body and good looks are enough to suppress my flame. Kevin steps between Parker and me, blocking Parker’s access. They both just stand there, breathing heavily like two bulls in a standoff with me representing the bright red cape. “Seriously, both of you just need to chill. I’m not in the mood to talk right now, all right?” “I can explain, okay?” Parker pleads over Kevin’s shoulder.

245/494

“You heard her. She doesn’t want to talk, asshole,” Kevin replies. Before I have a chance to see the result of that exchange, I move away. They can slug it out if they want, but right now I don’t trust either of them. “Dani!” I hear Parker call out over the crowd. Stupidly, I turn around to see him rushing over to me with Kevin right on his heels. “Will you both just leave me the hell alo—” The guttural yell above my head draws my attention to the rafters of the gym. In the blink of an eye, a shape moves through my field of vision, landing with a sickening thud on the ground in front of me. Then there’s this deafening silence that flows through the room. Something’s splattered across my face, but it takes a few moments for me to realize what I just witnessed. My whole body is in shock from the scene before me. I don’t even hear the screams from the crowd right away.

246/494

A body lays there on the ground, motionless, with a pool of blood forming around it. Bringing my hands to my face, I wipe off some of the wet substance and look at it. It’s blood…it’s this person’s blood…on my face.

Chapter Eighteen “It’s Gunnar,” someone cries from the gathering crowd. “Gunnar?” I whisper, still dazed and not quite believing what I’m seeing right in front of me. Parker grabs me by the shoulders and I glance at his concerned face, but then I pan back down to Gunnar’s body. Everything Parker is trying to tell me sounds like a hum in my ears. All I hear clearly are the sobs moving through the crowd of people near me. It feels like the scene around me is passing by in slow motion. One of the teachers bends down next to Gunnar in order to check his pulse. “He’s dead,” the teacher says. “Dani? Dani?” Parker’s voice finally gets through. “You need to clean yourself off.” I nod and allow him to lead me to the restrooms just outside the gym. He opens the door

248/494

and ushers me in, telling me that he’ll be right outside. Looking in the mirror, I see the blood smeared across my face. My clothes have a few spots, as well. I don’t even look like me right now in the reflection. My pupils are completely dilated in the dim bathroom light, and my skin looks pale against the deep red color of the drying blood. I reach up to touch my face to make sure the image is mine and notice my hands shaking. Parker’s voice comes through the cracked open door. “How are you doing in there?” “I don’t know,” is all I can say as I continue to stare at my reflection. “Do you need me to come in?” His voice is oddly comforting. “No.” Snapping out of my zombie-like state, I turn on the faucet and grab a few paper towels from the dispenser. I wet them and begin cleaning my face, one stroke at a time. The more blood I clean

249/494

off, the more I begin to return to normal. Well, at least as normal as I can feel after what happened. My skin starts to look bright red and raw as I continue to wipe faster and harder, trying to clean my face as quickly as I can before I have a chance to freak out. The last conversation I had with Gunnar begins replaying in my mind. I remember how angry I was with him, but I never would’ve wanted him dead. Not even after being the complete jerk that he was. With my face cleaned off, I gaze down at the blood on my clothes. I want to rip them off and throw them away. I feel so dirty and unclean, but I just stand there staring, frozen. The familiar chime of my message notification rings throughout the still bathroom, sounding loud in my ears. Bringing up the message, I see it’s from Unknown: Looks like someone knocked Pretty Boy off his pedestal. You’re welcome.

250/494

I stiffen again while looking at the text. Dropping the phone onto the counter, I crumple down to rest on the floor. A tear slides down my face when I realize I was the cause of Gunnar’s death. This was all a part of this sick bastard’s game, and I’m the pawn being moved around the board. What am I going to do? I feel so helpless. “Parker,” I struggle to call out. When he doesn’t respond, I dig deep and try again. “Parker!” “Yeah, I’m here,” he answers. “Unknown killed him,” I murmur. “What?” he asks, but when I don’t respond, he says, “I’m coming in, okay?” The next thing I know Parker’s kneeling in front of me, trying to get me to look at him. “Unknown killed him,” I repeat. “That unknown fucker killed him.” “How do you know that?” he asks, his words laced with anxiety. “They were saying that it was an accident. A teacher asked him to fix the

251/494

festival banner because it was crooked—at least, that’s what they’re saying.” I reach up and grab my phone before proceeding to press it into his chest. “Check the last message.” I watch as he unlocks the screen, but the look he sends me right after isn’t very reassuring. “The last message was from me.” “Shit. Unknown erased it already?” I ask in frustration, snatching the phone from Parker’s hands, wanting to make sure the text really wasn’t there. “I’m so tired of this! What did I do to deserve this?” “Nothing. You did nothing to deserve this, Dani.” I want to be angry with him about the whole girlfriend thing, but when he does stuff like this, it makes me want to forgive him. How can someone be so caring and yet be such a scumbag liar at the same time? “We should talk to your dad. No matter the consequences. This is getting completely out of

252/494

hand, and I don’t want to see anything happen to you,” he says, gently pulling me to be closer to him. I want to push him away, but I can’t bring myself to do it. He’s the only one who knows what I’m going through, and if I don’t have him, I have no one. The flashing lights from the sheriff’s cars and ambulance fill our vision as we emerge from the girls’ bathroom. A large group of students and teachers are gathered around the area just outside the gym’s doors. A few deputies are making everyone step back while they cordon off the area. “It looks like we might be talking to your dad sooner than I thought,” Parker comments. I see my father rushing over to us with a look of concern on his face. For once, he doesn’t look pissed or upset to see me. He seems genuinely worried. “I’ve been trying to get a hold of you. Why haven’t you answered your phone?” he asks,

253/494

grabbing me in a hug and holding on to me for dear life. “I was so worried when I heard what happened, and that you were right there when the boy fell.” “I’m okay, Dad. My phone must have just been acting up,” I reply, returning his hug. Pulling away from me, he scans my face and then looks down at my clothes. “Is that blood?” “Yeah,” I reply quietly. “Oh my God, Dani. Are you sure you’re okay? You know sometimes when people see things like this, they go into shock,” he says, peering into my eyes. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little shaken up,” I lie. I can’t pull myself to tell him the truth. I glance over at Parker and he gives me a look. I know he wants me to tell my dad what happened. “Parker, what are you doing here?” my father asks. “I’m assisting with the school’s newspaper, and I was asked to help with their booth tonight,” he replies.

254/494

“He’s Mr. Whitman’s assistant for the semester, Dad,” I state when I see the confusion on his face. “Oh, I see. Well, thank you for taking care of my daughter, but I think I’ve got it from here.” “But Dad—” He cuts me off. “Don’t but Dad me. I’m taking you home, now.” Shaking Parker’s hand, “Thanks again. You should probably go report what you witnessed to Deputy Samson before you head home, all right?” “Sure thing,” Parker says, and flashes me another quick look. I know exactly what he’s trying to tell me through that look, but this isn’t the time to just blurt out that my psycho stalker just killed Gunnar—like he’d believe me or Parker, anyway. “Later, Dani,” Parker calls out to me as my father and I begin to walk away. All I do is glance back and then continue moving forward as my dad drapes his sheriff’s jacket around my shoulders.

255/494

“I’ll drive you home. You can pick up your car tomorrow. I don’t trust your nerves with driving right now,” he explains as we stroll toward his cruiser. “I’ll be fine driving home. You don’t have to baby me.” “Will you just stop arguing and get in the car,” he states with a sense of exhaustion as he pulls open the passenger door to his vehicle. “Fine,” I murmur, plopping down into the seat. “Thank you.” As we pull away from the school, I fidget with the hem of my blouse while staring down at the splotches of dried blood. I want to talk to my dad about what really happened, but I’m scared he’ll just say I’m being silly or something. He’s already had that reaction before, so what would make this time any different? “Hey, Dad?” “Yeah,” he replies, concentrating on the road ahead.

256/494

I pause for a moment to really consider if I want to continue with my question. I want him to believe me so much and realize that I’m actually in danger here. I only wish I had concrete evidence, since that seems to be the only way he’ll believe me. Mustering the courage, I begin again. “If I were to tell you something that might sound completely crazy, would you believe me?” “That’s a really odd question, Dani. Does this have anything to do with those strange texts you claimed you were receiving?” I nod, yielding to the fact he’s not going to believe me. “Now, we’ve been over this already—” “I know. But I’m telling you the truth. Someone has been harassing me with texts, and I think the person killed Gunnar,” I reply, feeling good that I said it out loud. At least now it’s out in the open. “Stop it, Dani. Gunnar’s death was just an unfortunate accident. He fell from the rafters

257/494

adjusting a silly banner. That’s it, end of story. And where’s your proof of these texts anyway?” “The person is deleting them from my phone before I have a chance to show anyone,” I huff. “Will you listen to yourself? Have you ever heard of that happening?” “No, but I hear there are apps for this kind of thing.” “An app? Really?” he asks. “Dani, I think you just need to get home, clean up, and relax. You’ve been through a lot tonight, and you’re probably just in shock.” “Will you quit with the whole ‘in shock’ shit, seriously!” I yell. My dad slams on his breaks. “Don’t ever talk to me like that, young lady,” he snaps, pointing a finger at me. His face is flushed and I can see the flames of anger brushing his cheeks. I sink back into my seat and cross my arms in front of my chest. I hear him release a growl as the car begins moving again.

258/494

He lets out a heavy sigh. “I’m really starting to worry about you,” he comments, seeming a little calmer. “That makes two of us.”

Chapter Nineteen The whole school is in shock over Gunnar’s sudden and tragic death. A somber cloud floats over everyone’s head while we walk through the halls. No surprise, though, since he was the “it” guy. He was loved and admired by most and had very few enemies. Actually, the first harsh words I ever heard him speak about anyone were the ones he said to me. I stare down at the new cover story for tomorrow’s paper. I can’t help but get misty-eyed looking at Gunnar’s smiling face in the picture his parents gave us for the story. The article focuses on his stellar academic and football career, ending with an announcement of a candlelight ceremony tomorrow night in his honor. It feels so weird writing about a dead person that I knew. Almost as weird as the article I still have to write up about Janice’s disappearance. I’ve put that one off for as long as I can. I can’t

260/494

bear to look at her picture and not feel completely overwhelmed with guilt. It’s been hard enough seeing her missing persons flyers posted up all around town. Each one serves as a constant reminder of my stupid decisions. This is officially the one and only time I’ve ever not wanted to be the editor-in-chief of the school’s newspaper. My dad wasn’t too terribly excited that I had to stay late today to work on the changes. After the whole situation yesterday, he’s been cracking down even harder on me and what I do. We had another tense discussion after we got home last night. He almost had me convinced I never received any messages from an unknown person, and that I had made it all up in my head. I wanted to believe him so bad. Maybe that’s why I was close to being convinced. I would give anything to wake up from this and have it all be a bad dream. Thankfully, Parker’s not in the office. I think a little time away from him might do me some

261/494

good. I have a lot going on in my head, and even though he’s the only one in my corner right now, my feelings about him are muddled at best. I had an epiphany while standing in the shower earlier. After my anger settled about the whole “Parker’s girlfriend” thing, I realized that he can’t help but make drama wherever he goes. It’s kind of his M.O. The last thing I need right now is more of that in my life. I look over at Mr. Whitman when I hear the clank of his glasses hitting the desk. He’s fallen asleep. I told him to go home and get some rest, but he insisted on staying late with me to help with the last-minute changes. He mentioned something about “if there’s work to be done, a captain should be around to help.” “Mr. Whitman?” I ask. He wakes up with a jerk of his head. I feel bad I startled him from his peaceful slumber, since it really looks like he needs it. “Sorry, must’ve dozed off,” he replies while massaging his temples. “I’ve slept horribly these

262/494

past few nights. It’s this stupid sleep apnea machine my wife insists that I wear so I don’t stop breathing in the middle of the night. The thing’s so damn uncomfortable.” “I didn’t know you had sleep apnea.” “Yep, pretty much all my adult life. Bad genes, I guess,” he laughs. I walk over and place Gunnar’s picture and article on the desk in front of him because I can’t bear to stare at it anymore. “Well, it’s finished,” I say. “It’s a shame, what happened to that poor boy. Terrible, just terrible,” he say quietly to himself as he looks at the picture. “Yeah, a lot of terrible things have happened lately, huh?” “Well, you know what they say: When it rains, it pours.” I let out a sigh. “True.” “I’m going to head to the vending machines. Do you want anything? I need some sugar and caffeine, stat,” he jokes.

263/494

“I’m good. Thanks, though,” I say before returning to my desk. He chuckles, but it sounds halfhearted. “Suit yourself.” A sudden chill courses through me and I shiver in the frosty, air-conditioned room. Reaching for the sweater draped around the back of my chair, I pull it on to keep the cold at bay. When I begin to suffer from eye strain after gazing at the computer for too long, I decide to get up and stretch my legs. The simple that fact I’m alone in the room hits me when I start to wander around. The feeling of paranoia sneaks into the back of my mind, and I begin to wish Mr. Whitman hadn’t stepped out to get a damn candy bar. Buzz…Buzz… My phone vibrates on the desk. It taps against the metal pen holder, making the sound more pronounced. Uneasiness fills me as I stare at the phone, not really wanting to check it. Growing up, all I ever wanted was a cell phone, but now

264/494

I’m really regretting ever begging my parents for one. I slowly make my way around the desk while running my hand across the smooth, wood surface, contemplating picking up the phone. It vibrates again when I reach out to grab it. I see my hand trembling as I bring the phone in front of my face, experiencing a sense of dread I’ve never felt. Turning it on, I see two messages on my home screen and press the icon to reveal them. They’re both from Unknown. You have a choice to make, Dani… I can’t scroll down fast enough to get to the next part of the message: Save the teacher or the friend. I make a last-ditch effort to appeal to the person and send a message of my own: You don’t have to do this! No one else has to die! It only takes a few moments to get a short and blunt reply: Your move.

265/494

Before I stuff the phone into my pocket, I get the bright idea to forward this whole conversation to my dad. Finally feeling like I’ve outsmarted Unknown, I head for the office door, but I’m not even sure where I’m going. I assume the person is talking about Mr. Whitman, but who’s the friend? “Holy shit. Rory told me he was swimming laps tonight.” A rush of anxiety slams into me as I pull open the door. Mr. Whitman is standing on the other side of it, taking a bite out of his peanut butter Twix bar. “Want the other half?” he asks. I breathe a quick sigh of relief that he’s okay. “Not right now. I need you to go into the office and lock the door behind you.” He tries to ask me why, but I cut him off. “Please just listen to me. I’ll be right back,” I say, moving him into the room. Before he has another chance to argue, I shut the door and wait for him to lock it. Once he does, I take off down the hall toward the pool.

266/494

My phone pings as I go to pull open the double doors that lead into the pool. I draw out my cell and see a response from my dad: Did you mean to send me a text of all gibberish? It’s nothing but symbols and numbers. I groan when I find the entire conversation with Unknown gone from my phone so I can’t try to re-forward it. “Damn this fucking app!” I shove my cell back into my pocket in frustration before I continue to rush into the pool area. I’m hit by the over-chlorinated air the instant I enter. I gag a little and bring my hand up to cover my nose and mouth, trying to limit the amount of chlorine entering my lungs. I scan the area, looking for any sign of Rory, but I don’t see him. Panic sets in even more as I run around the pool’s edge, keeping my eyes on the water for anything. A shape floating a fair distance from me catches my eye. My mind goes to a dark place when I make out the form in the water.

267/494

“Rory!” I shout out, hoping the form isn’t his body floating in the water. I slip and fall to my knees, but don’t care as I make a quick recovery and keep pushing forward, trying to make it to the shape. “Rory!” I cry out again, praying that he’ll pop out from one of the doors surrounding the pool with a smile on his face, completely safe from harm. The figure is a person, and without even giving it a second thought, I leap into the pool and begin swimming as fast as I can. My only drive is to get to the person in the water. I reach out the moment I’m within grabbing distance and flip the individual over to see my worst fear come true—it’s Rory. “Rory, I’ve got you. You’re going to be okay,” I yell, dragging him toward the side of the pool. I prop him up on the ladder and climb out, never taking my hands off him. “I’ve got you, Rory,” I repeat, and imagine him answering me. I desperately want him to answer me, but he

268/494

doesn’t. He just floats there, interlocked with the ladder, bobbing up and down in the water. Somewhere I find the strength to pull him up the ladder and lay him down on the ground. As I begin to administer CPR, I thank my dad for encouraging me to get certified through his department. Every chest compression and breath feels like it does nothing, and I start to lose hope. “I won’t give up on you, Rory,” I say before administering another breath. I press on his chest again, a little harder and quicker than before. No matter how futile it seems, I keep going. Tears stream down my face as memories of Rory and me flow through my head. I give him another breath and begin chest compressions once more. His pale blue-tinted skin causes doubt to rise up in my mind, but I keep at it. “Come on, Rory. Don’t give up on me.” I close my eyes as the tears overwhelm them. “Dammit, come on!”

269/494

The sound of light coughing makes me whip my head over to look at Rory’s face. I let out a relieved and teary laugh when I see him spitting up water in between coughs. I can’t even form words, so I just take him in my arms and squeeze tightly. For a split second, I feel like I’ve beaten this psycho asshole. Unknown didn’t get what he or she wanted. “Oh my God—you’re okay!” I exclaim, not letting him go. “What happened?” he asks wearily against my shoulder. He clearly doesn’t have any recollection of what the person did to him. “I don’t know what happened. I just found you floating in the pool. I was going to ask you the same question,” I say, cracking a smile. “I don’t…remember,” he replies between coughs. “Thank you.” “You’re welcome,” I manage through the tears.

270/494

“Hey, what’s going on here?” someone asks from across the pool. Glancing over, I see the swim coach standing there. “Where the hell were you? Rory almost drowned,” I answer. “I was in my office—” “I don’t really give a shit where you were. Call an ambulance!” I notice the surprise on his face at how I’m responding, but I don’t care if I get in trouble. My friend’s safety is more important than some stupid after-school detention. He leaves without arguing. I sit and rock Rory, murmuring nonsense as I wait for help to arrive. “I just phoned them. They’re on their way,” the coach calls out to me as he comes back into the pool area. “Good. I need you to stay with him until they get here, okay? I have to go check on someone,” I say. The coach nods his head.

271/494

I brush Rory’s wet hair. “You’re going to be all right.” He grabs my hand tightly as I move to stand up. “I love you, Dani.” “I love you too, Rory.” A fatigued smile shows on his face as the coach takes a knee by his side. “You know I’m giving you detention for what you said, right?” the coach comments, handing me a towel to use to dry off. “Do you really think I give a shit? Just do your job,” I reply while wiping my face. I hear Rory laugh, which only results in making him cough again. “Make that two,” the coach states with exasperation this time. I ignore him and toss the towel back in his face before heading toward the exit. I realize night has fallen as I emerge back outside the pool. My damp clothes and hair make the cool temperature feel that much more severe. I shiver, scanning the quiet and desolate school grounds. There’s no sign of activity. All I can

272/494

hear is the low howling sound of wind as it sweeps past me. A few overhead lights leading up to the main building are dark. For a brief moment, I wonder if the unknown person is waiting for me in the darkness, or even in the next building. Then the thought of Mr. Whitman being in danger snaps me out of my fear and I begin moving toward the double doors at the end of the walkway. I can’t shake the thought of what this person did to Rory. The anger building up inside me gives me a sense of fortitude, and I take it out on the doors as I rip them open before heading into the next building. As I hurry through the halls toward the newspaper office, I hear nothing but the squeak of my wet shoes on the slick tile floor. Reaching the office, I notice the door’s cracked open. The worstcase scenario begins playing out in my head as I approach it. The light inside is still on when I peek through the door’s little glass window, but I don’t see Mr. Whitman at his desk. My heart

273/494

thumps loudly in my ears as I think about all the horror movie clichés I’m fitting into right now. But this isn’t a movie—it’s real life. Wrenching open the door, I find the room completely empty. Buzz…Buzz… That’s the last sound I want to hear. Pulling out my phone, I see it’s completely drenched and I’m surprised it’s still working. A new message appears on the home screen from Unknown: Good choice… I stumble over to Mr. Whitman’s desk, propping myself up and thinking the worst has happened. My emotions overwhelm me, causing me to feel numb all over. Sitting there slouched over, I stare down at the message until my phone’s screen goes to sleep. “Fuck you,” I murmur with absolute disdain. “There you are,” I hear Mr. Whitman say. I raise my head to look at the door with the largest smile on my face. “Why were you so hysterical earli—”

274/494

I hug him senseless before he can finish his sentence. “I’m so glad you’re okay.” “What do you mean? Of course I’m okay. Are you?” he asks, sounding baffled. “Much better now,” I say, pulling back to see him again, just to make sure I’m not imagining all of this. Mr. Whitman grabs my shoulders and puts some space between us. “Why are you soaking wet?” I study his shirt and realize I’ve left it pretty damp. “Long story,” I reply. “Uh-huh, whatever you say,” he states with another questioning look. “I think you might need to get some rest, young lady. You’ve been through a lot lately, and I have a sneaking suspicion that it’s starting to get to you.” “I think you may be right,” I say with a tired laugh. “And don’t worry about tomorrow’s issue. I finished up what we had left to do and got it ready for print in the morning. That’s actually

275/494

where I just was,” he explains, grabbing my messenger bag from in front of my desk and handing it to me. “Sorry I bailed on you.” “No, you didn’t. We were working on this together. It was a team effort, and you definitely pulled your weight,” he says, placing a hand on my arm. “Now, I think you should head on home and get a good night’s rest. Hopefully you don’t catch pneumonia.” I nod. “Hey, do you think you could walk me to my car?” “Of course,” he replies. “I’m heading out too.” The entire time I’m talking with Mr. Whitman, I can’t help but wonder how Rory’s doing. No one in my life is safe, and it’s taking every fiber in my body right now not to fall to pieces. But if I do that, then Unknown wins. Just as we’re about to step outside, I hear the blaring siren of an ambulance. My mind is put somewhat at ease when I see it speeding away

276/494

from the school down the road toward the hospital. That will be my next destination, no matter what my dad says. I need to make sure Rory’s all right. There’s also a chance he might remember something that will help me get to the bottom of all this. “I never enjoy seeing ambulances with their lights and siren going,” Mr. Whitman states somberly. “Yeah, me neither. It always makes me wonder what’s going on inside,” I reply, not taking my eyes off the vehicle. “Are you sure you’re okay?” Mr. Whitman asks when we reach his car first. “Yeah. Just a little preoccupied at the moment, I guess.” “Are you going to be all right going home? You seem a little bit more than just preoccupied.” I smile halfheartedly. “I’ll be fine, no worries.” What’s another lie in the grand scheme of things, right?

Chapter Twenty The drive to school the next day seems like it takes forever. I’ve driven this way so many times, but never has it seemed this long before. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that I can’t stop thinking about how fragile my life has become, and it’s all thanks to one individual. At any moment, things could come crashing down around me, more than they already have. Trying to muster the courage and strength to prepare for that is beyond exhausting. It doesn’t help that the one person who can do something about it won’t because he doesn’t believe me and thinks I’m making all of this up to get attention. My dad actually asked me again if I was doing this in retaliation for Mom leaving. Seriously? To say the least, breakfast (if you could call what I had “breakfast”) this morning was a quiet affair, with both of us trying to start sentences, but then letting them trail off. I don’t even know

278/494

what to say to him anymore, which is sad because we used to talk all the time. The only high point last night was seeing Rory at the hospital. He was still shaken up by the whole thing, but that was understandable. So was I. I fought with myself to tell him what really happened, but even I didn’t truly know. Sure, I could’ve told him about the unknown stalker, but if that was to get out, who knows what else this sicko would do to the ones I love? The even suckier part was that Rory still didn’t have any recollection of what happened. He said that he felt drugged after I rescued him, but thought it was because he almost drowned. It wasn’t until the feeling still lingered well after he was at the hospital that he began to question it. After he told me this, I made the connection to when I woke up the morning after the party in Parker’s dorm after passing out. I asked Rory if the hospital did any kind of test on him to see if there was a drug in his system. Apparently, there wasn’t any trace of one. The only conclusion I

279/494

could come to was that we were both drugged by the same person—Unknown. Pulling into the senior parking lot, I’m surprised to see how empty it is. I know I’m a little early, but that’s only because I couldn’t stand being stuck at home amongst the awkward silence any longer. The overcast sky and dark, ominous clouds hovering overhead seem fitting for a day like this. As I plod toward the school building, the sound of flyers flapping in the wind surrounds me, creating a twisted melody to my ears. There seems to be at least thirty flyers per lamppost now, with more being added every day. The flyers don’t end there, though. They’re on every bulletin board, on the walls in every hallway, in every classroom…it feels like all of them stare at me, judging me for a false crime. I can almost hear Hattie cursing my name as she hung every one of them. There are a few stragglers peppered throughout the hall as I walk to Mr. Whitman’s

280/494

office. Something feels off, but I can’t put my finger on it. A gut feeling nags me. Mr. Whitman’s door is closed. When I reach for the handle to turn it, it’s locked. He’s usually here early. This doesn’t make any sense. Then it occurs to me that I didn’t see his car in the teacher’s lot when I walked in. I hope everything’s okay, especially after what happened yesterday. Leaning up against the wall next to his office door, I slide down it to sit on the ground. I fiddle with the clasp on my messenger bag. Worry starts to set in as the minutes tick by and he still doesn’t show. The halls are now bustling with activity and there’s still no sign of Mr. Whitman. After the tardy bell rings, I decide to head to the front office to see if he’s called in. The receptionist’s desk is just down the hall and around the corner from the office, but unfortunately there’s a line. Feeling impatient, I slyly lean over the desk to get the receptionist’s attention.

281/494

“Excuse me, do you know if Mr. Whitman has called in today?” “I’m sorry, but there’s a line of people in front of you,” she replies. “I know, but I have independent study with him right now and he isn’t here. So, could you please check to see if he called in? I don’t want to keep waiting there if he isn’t going to show.” She sends me a quick glare before sifting through a few papers on the desk in front of her. Seeming to find what she was looking for, she says, “Yes, Mr. Whitman did call in today due to illness. Is there anything else I can help you with?” she asks, with an eyebrow turned up. “No, that’s it. Thanks.” I don’t really know how I should feel right now. On the one hand, he called in, but on the other hand, did he actually call in? The thought of this being a part of Unknown’s sick plan creeps into my mind and fills me with unease. I wish I had Mr. Whitman’s cell number on hand so I could check up on him.

282/494

Rounding the corner to head back toward Mr. Whitman’s office, I see Parker standing in front of his door. Great, he’s like the last person I want to see right now. When he turns to me, a slight smile shows on his face. It kind of infuriates me how cool, calm, and collected guys can be sometimes, even after you’ve caught them in a lie—and a serious one at that. “What are you doing here?” “Hello to you too,” he replies with a laugh. I don’t respond. I just give him a look of “Well?” “Mr. Whitman sent me an email. He wanted me to fill in for him today.” “Oh,” I say, feeling like I may have made more out of this situation than I really needed to. “I’m sorry for not telling you about my—” “Stop,” I interrupt. “Wow, so it’s going to be like that, huh? I guess this is why you haven’t returned any of my calls or texts.”

283/494

“I’ve had a lot on my mind lately,” I state, avoiding a direct answer. “You’re not the only one,” he replies, looking intently in my direction, but then his eyes soften. “I’m not getting into this with you right now, okay? There’s so much going on, and the last thing I want is to bring some superficial high school relationship crap into it,” I mutter, wanting this conversation to just wither and die. “Is that seriously how you see us? I really hope not, because I sure as hell don’t feel that way.” I don’t know how to reply. I don’t actually think our relationship is superficial, but it’s kind of hard to express anything else right now. Especially after finding out he’s had an effing girlfriend this whole time. I hear him laugh to himself. “I guess I got my answer.” “I guess so.” “Dani, we’re going to have to talk about this sooner or later,” he presses, moving closer to me.

284/494

“I’d prefer later. Much, much later. After what happened last night, I can’t deal with us too,” I respond, taking a step back. “What happened last night?” he asks, taking a step forward while trying to get me to look at him. “Don’t worry about it.” “What do you mean, ‘don’t worry about it?’ What happened? You can trust me.” He attempts to touch my arm. I pull away. “Oh, really? I can trust you? That’s frickin’ hilarious, Parker. My sides hurt from laughing so much,” I say, shaking my head at him. “Don’t be like that. You know I’ve been there for you this whole time—” “Except when you were with your girlfriend,” I snap, interrupting him again. I’m desperate for this conversation to be over. He goes silent for a moment and just stares at me. I can see that he’s thinking of a rebuttal, but I’m not sure he has one.

285/494

Finally, he says, “I fucked up, okay? Is that what you want to hear? I saw you at that silly Halloween party and all the feelings I had for you came back. Yes, I had a girlfriend—” “Had?” “Yeah, had. We broke up when I told her about you and me.” “As she should’ve,” I reply. “Okay, I deserve that. But I also think I deserve some trust from you. I think I’ve proven myself lately, sans the girlfriend thing. I don’t want you to go through this alone, Dani.” I want to believe him so much, but it’s hard. Why does he have to be the only one who knows the truth? Oh yeah, that’s right…because I was the one that freakin’ told him. I take in a deep breath before my words come spilling out. “We can’t talk here. I don’t want to risk it.” “Risk what, exactly?” “Certain people hearing. I have no idea who Unknown is, and for all I know, he or she could

286/494

go to this school. So, if you’ll please just put this off ‘til later, I’d really appreciate it.” “Later then?” he asks. “Sure, whatever. Just drop it for now, please?” “Well, I guess I better track someone down who has keys to the newspaper office.” “Probably,” is all I mutter, causing him to look at me and proceed to move past me. I turn to watch him walk away. Parker waves his hand, but never looks back. “I look forward to our chat.” I wish I would’ve just gotten everything off my chest right then and there. I’m so effing stubborn sometimes. Not to mention, I have a key to the newspaper room in my bag. As the bell’s ring echoes throughout the hall, ending first period, I acknowledge that sooner or later my talk with Parker is going to happen. I’m just not sure if I’ll be ready for it when it does.

Chapter Twenty One Buzz…Buzz…Buzz…Buzz. That’s all I’ve heard today at work. My dad has been blowing up my phone for the past couple of hours, and all I’m trying to do is occupy my mind with a book while we’re having a slow day. He’s left, like, four voicemails, but I don’t care. I need my me time. He’s probably just making sure I’m coming home right after we close. It’s annoying to say the least, especially since I’m at work. I’m surprised he hasn’t called the front desk to get to me. “Dani, phone’s for you. It’s your father,” Joan calls out into the aisles. Spoke too soon. “Tell him I’ll call him on my break,” I reply. “He said it’s urgent.” Pulling my nose out from the book I’m reading, I roll my eyes and groan. “He’s so incorrigible sometimes,” I murmur while standing up.

288/494

I pick up the phone and place it to my ear. “Hello, Dad.” “Why haven’t you answered your phone or returned any of my calls?” he asks, but doesn’t sound mad at all. Actually, he sounds more sad than anything. “I’m kind of at work right now. I was planning on calling you back during my break,” I lie, but I think it sounded convincing. “Well, what’s up? I’ve got to get back to stocking the shelves, and I’m getting the eye from Joan.” “So you haven’t listened to any of my messages, either?” he asks, sounding even more somber than before. “Like I said, I’m at work. I haven’t really had the time to check. Why, what’s wrong?” I hear his deep sigh come through the phone and suddenly fear the worst. A number of things run through my mind and I hope not one of them comes out of his mouth. “I have some bad news.” He leaves me hanging on his words when he pauses. His

289/494

hesitation is killing me, and I’m not sure I even want to hear what he has to say next. “What is it, Dad?” “It’s your teacher—Mr. Whitman. I’m so sorry, Dani, but he’s dead.” “Wait, what? He’s dead?” I hope I didn’t hear him right. “Yes.” Pain surges through my chest as I stand there trying to comprehend that simple answer. The only other time I remember a “yes” hurting this much, was after I asked my parents if they were getting a divorce. “How?” I whisper into the phone, still stunned. “His wife found his body when she came home from work. He suffocated in the garage with the car running. He must’ve fallen asleep at the wheel and never opened the door. According to Mrs. Whitman, he had been having trouble sleeping. It appears to have been an accident.”

290/494

For a split second I actually think that maybe it was an accident. Mr. Whitman was really tired yesterday. Then Unknown enters my mind and squashes that thought. “Do you really believe it was an accident?” I ask, snapping out of my paralyzed state. “Dani, don’t start. We’ve already been over this. Gunnar’s death was an accident, and so is Mr. Whitman’s. These things happen, that’s life. It sucks, but it’s true. There doesn’t seem to be any foul play involved whatsoever with either case.” “I’ve got to go,” I reply in a calm tone, even though I want to scream at the top of my lungs that these weren’t accidents. “Are you going to be all right?” he asks in a concerned tone. “Yeah, as all right as I can be, I guess.” “We’ll talk more tonight when I get home, okay?” “Uh-huh,” I reply, and hang up the phone.

291/494

I feel a hand touch my shoulder and turn to see Joan standing next to me. She flashes me a sad smile, clearly noticing how distraught I look. “You okay? What’s wrong?” “My teacher passed away,” I say, feeling every syllable roll off my tongue. I still can’t believe I’m saying it. “Oh, no. What happened?” she asks, pulling me in for a hug. “It was an accident apparently. Don’t really know the details,” I answer, not really wanting to talk or think about it. “I’m so sorry. Do you need to go home early?” “No, I should keep working. Keep my mind busy, you know?” “All right, but the moment you need to leave, just let me know,” she says, pulling me in for another hug. “Maybe you should go take a break in the back office. Clear your head a bit.” “Yeah, I think I might do that if you don’t mind,” I reply with an empty smile.

292/494

“Take all the time you need. We aren’t really busy today anyway,” she says with a soft laugh while gesturing to the store floor, which is pretty empty. Sitting in the back office, I regret not taking my boss up on the whole leaving early thing. Back here, I’m all alone with my thoughts, and they’re not being too kind at the moment. I have my phone out on the desk, anticipating a text any minute now from Unknown, taking responsibility for Mr. Whitman’s death. No matter how many times I think it or say it, I never get used to the idea of him being gone. My thoughts are interrupted by Joan calling into the back office through the P.A. system. “I know you’re probably not up to this right now, but I thought I’d ask. There’s a customer inquiring about Edgar Allan Poe, and I figured with you being an expert, you might be able to help him out.” “Be right up,” I reply after pressing the button on the intercom.

293/494

When I reach the front desk, there isn’t any sign of a customer or my boss. There are only a few people milling about in the café area, and a guy sifting through the bargain bin of mystery paperbacks near the entrance of the store. I finally spot Joan emerging from the stacks and she sends me a wave to come over. “He’s back there. I thought maybe I could help him, but he’s asking very specific questions,” she says with a snicker. “Maybe you’ll have better luck.” “I’ll see what I can do,” I reply, shrugging my shoulders. “Thank you.” She moves past me toward the front counter. “One moment, sir,” I hear her call out behind me as I move into the aisles. When I reach the section containing the works of Edgar Allan Poe, I see a man standing there, thumbing through a book with his back to me. His clothes make me think he’s probably in college or a little bit older. I’d probably call his style hipster chic.

294/494

“Excuse me, sir? I heard you had some questions about Poe?” “No, not really. I just wanted to get you alone so we could talk,” he replies and turns around to face me. “Seriously, Parker? You have the worse timing ever for joking around,” I scold him and begin to storm off, but feel his hand grab my arm. Shaking free of his grip, I whip back around to look at him with a glare. “Mr. Whitman’s dead,” I blurt out. “What?” “So forgive me if I’m not in the mood right now to have an existential conversation regarding where the two of us stand relationship-wise.” I see the surprise register on his face as it pans down to the ground. The look gradually turns into sorrow as his eyes once again meet mine. Seeing his reaction, I feel bad for the way I broke the news to him. “I can’t believe...Mr. Whitman…How did it happen?”

295/494

“You’ll probably hear all about it on the news. The shitty part is that everyone, including my father, thinks it was an accident, but I know better.” “Did Unknown send you another text?” he whispers in an urgent tone. “Doesn’t have to. This has ‘Unknown’ written all over it.” “But you never got a text? Are you sure this wasn’t an accident?” he asks, seeming flustered. “You’re beginning to sound like my dad,” I respond indignantly, which lands me on the receiving end of a scowl. “I’m serious, Dani. Why do you think Unknown did this?” “I don’t want to talk about it here. Can we go somewhere else?” I ask, looking around and making sure there are no eavesdroppers. “Sure,” he says as he combs his hand through his hair. He looks stressed out. He’s clearly still trying to process that Mr. Whitman’s gone. “I know a place where no one will bother us.

296/494

Larry’s. I could really use a drink right now, anyway.” “Larry’s? You mean that skeevy bar at the edge of town? My dad and his deputies break up bar fights there nightly. Not to mention I’ve met Larry in town before and he kind of gives me the wiggins.” “Do you have a better idea?” he asks, quirking an eyebrow. “I guess not.” “Larry’s it is, then.” Walking back up to the front counter, I hear the door chime as Parker exits the store. “I’m cutting out early, Joan. I thought work would be the best thing for me, but I think I’m just too overwhelmed right now to even think.” “I completely understand, Dani. You don’t have to explain. See you Sunday?” she asks. “Most likely,” I reply.

Chapter Twenty Two It’s just before dark, and as I drive up to the bar the neon signs pulse in anticipation of nightfall. I laugh to myself when I see that the “Larry’s” sign has a few faded sections and now just reads “Lar’s Bar.” By the looks of the place, I can see it’s a real winner. Shoddy construction plus shoddy signage equals skeevy bar on the edge of town. I’m sure every town or city has at least one of these timeless treasures to call their own. I see Parker waiting beside his motorcycle for me as I pull into the parking spot next to his. He opens my door like the gentleman he can be, and escorts me to the entrance. When he pulls open the door, I’m enveloped by the stench of alcohol and cheap cologne. The clank of pool balls in the back area draws my attention to the billiards room. Typical sounds from a typical bar. I do have to give them credit for their cute paper

298/494

Halloween decorations placed haphazardly around the space, though. “Come here often?” I ask, looking around. “Not really,” he replies. That lie is called out the moment Larry announces our arrival. “Parker! One of my best customers,” he chuckles heartily, causing his belly to bounce underneath his whitish wife beater. Even from a distance, I can tell he doesn’t have all his teeth. “Oh, and we’re being graced by the presence of Sheriff Marks’ daughter.” He wriggles his eyebrows at me, which only succeeds in making me more wigged out. “You know I can’t serve minors, Parker, especially the sheriff’s daughter.” “Nope. I’m the only drinker tonight,” Parker says, motioning to one of the booths in the back corner of the bar. “Two pumpkin ales, Larry.” I slide into the booth and feel every inch of the cheap pleather coating the seats, making me cringe. Parker follows in right behind, trying to sit next to me. I scootch over more to put some

299/494

space between us. There’s an awkward silence as we wait for the beers to be delivered. Moments later, Larry comes by the table and slams two bottles of Holden Ridge Brewery’s Pumpkin Ale on the table. “It’s a shame about that Benson boy,” Larry comments, cracking the top off both bottles with an opener. “I guess the sayings true, ‘Only the good die young.’” Seeming to sense my uneasiness, Parker replies, “I guess so. Thanks, Larry.” “Want me to start you a tab?” Parker shrugs. “Sure, why not? We might be here a while.” As Larry walks away, Parker slides one of the bottles with the back of his hand so it sits in front of me. “Drink up.” “I really shouldn’t. This place may be a dump, but I don’t want to get Larry in trouble. Besides, Unknown’s probably recording us as we speak, and I don’t want to give him or her any more ammo to be used against me,” I reply, pushing the beer back toward him.

300/494

“Do you really think he brought two beers over here for little old me? And fuck that Unknown bastard. Drink up,” he says, grabbing the bottle and setting it down right in front of me again. I look over at Larry, who’s busy chatting it up with a couple of customers at the bar, and then snatch up the beer. “You’re right. Fuck Unknown. Here goes nothing.” I pause for a second when it suddenly occurs to me that we’re missing Gunnar’s candlelight ceremony at the school. Raising the bottle, I say, “To Gunnar and Mr. Whitman,” clanging my bottle against Parker’s. Then I proceed to slam mine back. It feels soothing as the cool liquid rushes down my throat and swirls around my mouth. The pumpkin flavor pops, bringing a genuine smile to my face. “To Gunnar and Mr. Whitman,” Parker echoes as I continue to down the beer. Taking the bottle away from my lips, I release a hard breath as I slam it on the table.

301/494

“Damn, that’s good,” I say, letting out a small laugh. I look over at Parker and he has a pensive look on his face. He’s staring at me, but he doesn’t say anything. My subtle enjoyment of the beer fades away when I realize a serious conversation is about to take place. “You want to talk, huh?” I ask him when I notice he starts swirling around his bottle on the table while still gazing at me. “Only if you’re up to it, but yes, I think we should.” He brings the bottle up to his lips and takes a sip after he finishes talking. I take a deep breath followed by another long drink of beer before I begin. “Yesterday, that sick bastard made me choose between saving Rory or Mr. Whitman. I found Rory unconscious in the school pool, and I thought Mr. Whitman was fine since nothing happened to him. Well, not until today,” I explain in a reflective tone. My eyes tear up at the thought of not seeing Mr. Whitman at school on Monday, or ever again. “That’s how

302/494

I know it was Unknown. The psycho said I had to choose and I chose Rory. That’s why Mr. Whitman’s dead—because I chose.” As I take another swig of beer, I see Parker’s face out of the corner of my eye and it looks like he’s mulling over everything I just dumped on him. “I believe you,” he says after taking a sizeable gulp of his beer. I find myself oddly happy to hear him say those words. Maybe it’s just the alcohol, but I feel my walls coming down brick by brick as I sit here with Parker. Though, he does tend to have this effect on me even when I’m not under the influence. “Thank you. It’s nice to hear that every so often,” I reply, and look into the bottle to see the last little drops swishing around at the bottom. I tilt the bottle back and finish off the beer with a satisfied sigh. Before I have a chance to say anything, Larry places more bottles down on the table in front of Parker.

303/494

“Here’s two more, Parker. Drink responsibly,” he says, popping the tops off of them too. Then he winks at me, which I find both nice and creepy at the same time. Sliding over the second bottle, Parker says, “I think you need this more than I do,” flashing that seductive grin of his. “I don’t need to get wasted, Parker. I have to drive home soon. And how will I explain beer breath to my dad?” “You’re not supposed to be home for another three hours, and we’ve got more to talk about. So hush, drink up, and we’ll worry about your dad later,” he states, clinking our bottlenecks together. “Peer pressure can be a bitch sometimes.” “Yes it can.” I start feeling the effects of the beer after a few more swigs. I think I drank the first one way too fast, especially since I haven’t had anything to eat since my meager lunch.

304/494

“So, who do you think Unknown is?” Parker asks out of the blue. “I have no idea. There really aren’t any clues, and it’s not like I can analyze the evidence, since there is none. I want to tell everyone about this, but it seems like when I do, no one believes me.” “I said I believe you,” he reminds me, placing his hand on mine. His touch feels warm and comforting, causing me to beam. Looking over at him, I’m swept away by his beautiful eyes and soft grin, but only for a moment. “I can’t, Parker. Not with everything else that’s going on,” I say, sliding my hand from under his and grabbing for the beer bottle. “I’m not asking you to,” he replies. “I just want you to know that you’re not alone in this.” He takes my hand in his again and moves a little closer to me. “Why do you do this?” I ask abruptly. “Why do I do what?” “Make yourself so irresistible, even though the other person should resist you at all costs.”

305/494

“Dani, look at me,” he says, moving his hand to my chin, and turning my head to face him. “I care about you, and what happens to you. I’m not here to fool you or lie to you. I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you about my ex-girlfriend. I know I can be a complete dick at times, but this is just me being here for you—nothing more, nothing less, okay?” I nod my head as a tear falls down my cheek. For a second, I almost forget we’re in some seedy bar named "Larry’s." All I can see is Parker’s serious face right before mine, and I sense that he’s not lying to me. I know he has in the past, but this feels genuine. His eyes tell me all I need to know. He lets out a soft chuckle, breaking the silence between us. His face becomes serious again when he says, “And speaking of irresistible, you might want to turn that statement around on yourself. It’s taking everything in my power not to kiss you right now, but I know that’s not what you need, so I won’t.”

306/494

Parker’s always had a way with words. The heat between us is intense as his face hovers close to mine. Damn, I love that cologne he wears, and thankfully it’s not mixing with the awful smells that permeate through this place. I’d hate for his scent to be ruined for me. All I smell is Parker. When I return my gaze to my half-empty beer bottle, I feel him move to rest against the back of the booth. “Parker?” “Yeah?” “Aren’t you scared?” I ask, turning to face him again. “Shitless. Hence, the alcohol. But it’s a little too late for me to turn and run now, right?” he replies before leaning forward to get closer to me again. “We’re in this together, Dani. You have my word on that.” “That’s actually what I’m afraid of. If you go, there’s no one standing between this asshole and

307/494

me. But if you stay, you could be the next body they find,” I explain, getting misty-eyed. He leans in even closer than he was before, “How many times do I have to tell you?” he begins in a whisper. “I’m not going anywhere. And there’s no one who will change that.” He smiles. “That’s one thing we definitely have in common, Dani—we’re both incredibly, and most absolutely, stubborn.” I raise my lips to be mere inches from his and whisper back, “To the point of being ridiculously stupid.” All regrets and worries melt away the moment our lips caress in a sweet embrace. This kiss feels different than any of the others we’ve shared before. It feels like we’re both trying to release all of the emotions we have built up, and not all of them are of the warm fuzzy kind. He grabs the back of my head tightly and pulls me forward to deepen the kiss. I don’t fight it. His lips are so soft it’s driving me insane. I can feel every emotion he’s putting behind this, and I

308/494

attempt to match it by completely letting go and allowing this moment to enrapture my being. His mouth takes great care with mine, making sure the sensation is tender and not sloppy or rushed. As we pull away from each other, I half expect to have everyone in the bar staring at us. It was a pretty passionate kiss after all, and probably quite a unique sight in a place like this. Instead, all I’m met with are Parker’s dazzling dimples resting on each corner of his grin. No words are spoken. We just sit and gaze into each other’s eyes. I’m pretty sure if I was a spectator, I’d be yelling, “Get a room already” by now. “Was that too much?” he asks, combing my hair to lay behind my ear. “Not at all.” “Good.” Reality begins to set in again and I float down from cloud nine. “Parker, what are we doing? If Phoebe ever finds out that we even kissed once and didn’t tell her, she’s going to be pissed beyond reason. Not to mention, two people we knew

309/494

just died, and there’s a crazy person after me,” I ramble on, counting off every issue. Parker grabs me by the shoulders. “Don’t you think I know all of this already? Believe me, I’m well aware of what’s going on and what we’re doing. But dammit, I don’t care. Shit happens, that’s life. It’s a horrible and unfortunate truth. I can’t let all of this get in the way of how I feel. I’m not going to let you push me away that easily, Dani.” “I’m not pushing away from you, Parker. I just think we need to pump the brakes a little and realize my actions have consequences—our actions have consequences. Things are a little too crazy at the moment,” I reply, gently pushing his arms. “Maybe you’re right, but that doesn’t change how I feel about you,” he insists, resting his hands on my shoulders once more. “Okay, so what do we do now?”

310/494

“Maybe we should call it a night. Like you said, a lot has been going on. We might just need some time to think all this through.” “The only problem is, we might not have the time,” I point out, taking the last swig of my beer. “That’s a risk I’m willing to take,” he replies, kissing me on the forehead. “Do you feel okay enough to drive home?” “Yeah, I should be fine.” “Want me to follow you? Just in case?” he asks with concern in his voice. “No, that’s okay. You’ve got a long drive to campus. It’ll be double if you follow me all the way home.” Parker pulls out a pack of cinnamon gum and slides out a piece. “Here, this should help cover up the beer.” “Thanks.” I take it from his hand and then proceed to scootch out the other side of the booth.

311/494

I wait for him at the front of the bar while he takes care of the bill. Peering out the window at the single lamppost casting a circle of light onto the pavement, I see a lone cat sitting right in the center of the light. It’s none the wiser of its surroundings, and seems solely focused on cleaning itself. Even as a few people pass just outside the circle of light, they don’t faze the cat. I realize that this feline and I have a lot in common. We’re both at the center of something, but at the same time, we’re trying with all our might to be blissfully unaware of what’s going on right around us. “Ready to go?” Parker asks, coming up behind me. I nod and he places his hand at the small of my back as he opens the door.

Chapter Twenty Three “So, how was work?” My dad asks when I come through the front door. I know this is just the beginning of a full line of questioning that’s sure to follow. “How do you think it was?” “Sorry, I didn’t really know how to come right out and ask about—” “Mr. Whitman?” I interrupt. He sighs. “Yeah.” “What’s there really to say?” “For starters, how about what you’re feeling?” he responds, seeming frustrated. “I know you were close to him. I just want to make sure you’re okay, is that all right?” “I feel angry, scared, pissed off at the world. How do you think I feel? My world seems to be crashing down around me, and my own father won’t believe me when I say there’s someone

313/494

after me. Let me ask you a question, Dad. How would you feel if you were in my position?” The look on his face changes from one of worry and concern to irritation. Typical parent move once your child calls you out. “I want to believe you, Dani. Trust me, I do. But it seems like you’re making something out of nothing. I know you’ve seen things that would put anyone under a lot of stress. Your story just doesn’t make any sense, and you have nothing to back up these claims. There’s a protocol I have to follow here,” he explains, but every word keeps throwing more oil on an already roaring bonfire. “Seriously, spare me your technical jargon. You’re talking to your own daughter, not some perp or victim out on the street.” I pause for a second to gain my composure. “I don’t want to become a statistic like Gunnar and Mr. Whitman. I need you to believe me before I end up being just another one of your cases,” I say, tears forming in my eyes.

314/494

“You won’t become one of my cases. Why do you think you will?” He’s clearly not getting what I’m trying to say. Story of my life, it seems lately. No wonder Mom left him. That thought resonates deep within me and I feel terrible for even thinking it, even if it might be true. “Never mind, Dad. I’m just speaking out of my ass, right? It’s just a phase I’m going through. It’ll pass.” I stomp up the stairs. My dad says nothing. No rebuttal, no reply, no arguing…nothing. There’s only silence as I reach the top of the stairs and make a beeline to my room. Slamming the door behind me, I fall onto the bed and let the tears flow. I’ve been harboring a lot of emotions and I feel like every single one of them is pouring out. The pillow I’m cuddling with is becoming soaked with tears, but I don’t care. I’ll keep crying until I’m tapped out. A light rap at my door pulls my attention to it.

315/494

“I’m sorry, Dani.” My dad’s muffled voice comes from the other side. “I’m terrible at handling stuff like this. This was always your mom’s department, but I’m trying my best here. I’m just so used to dealing with criminals and the facts. I guess I forget to turn off my sheriff brain. I don’t think you’re going through a phase, I just think you’re overstressed.” I was with him up until he used the word “overstressed.” Wanting to just put an end to the convo, I reply, “It’s okay, Dad. You’re right, I just need to relax and take my mind off what’s been going on. I’ll be better in a day or so.” He releases a heavy sigh. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help, all right? I’ll be downstairs if you want to talk some more,” he says, and I can hear the desperation in his voice. “I think I’m going to call it a night, if that’s okay,” I reply, trying to keep my tears at bay until he leaves.

316/494

I hear his hand graze the door before he says good night. I murmur “good night” when I hear him making his way down the stairs. My phone chimes in my pocket and I pull it out to see a message from Parker: Made it home safe. Hope u did 2. Tonight felt good, despite the circumstances. Try 2 get some sleep, k? Seeing his text reminds me I still haven’t gotten a message from Unknown taking credit for what happened to Mr. Whitman. Maybe my father is right. Maybe it was an accident.

I spend most of my entire Saturday in bed. I figure that if I never leave the house, or my bedroom for that matter, then nothing bad will happen. Well, that’s my thought, anyway. Usually about this time, I’d be watching a horror movie marathon on TV since it’s so close to Halloween. Instead, I’m lying here with a

317/494

kitchen knife under the mattress and silly Saturday morning cartoons blaring from the television. I slept like shit last night, but that was pretty much expected. This whole “sleeping with one eye open” thing is getting exhausting. I can’t seem to shake the fact that not only has Unknown been in my room, but he or she has possibly killed two people in my life. I actually find myself getting nauseous thinking about who the next target will be. It’s been about two days since I’ve received a text from Unknown, and to say the least, it has me worried. I keep anticipating the next message, with each scenario getting graver as I play them out in my head. It dawns on me that Alex has her gig tonight. I had completely forgotten with everything that’s happened. My stomach churns at the thought of her being Unknown’s next choice. I decide I have to find a way to get to that concert.

318/494

“Shit, she said we had to wear a costume to this thing.” I wonder what I may have stuffed away in my closet that might do. Alighting from the bed, I hurry over to the closet and throw open the door. Clicking on the light above my head, I proceed to shift clothes around on the racks, searching for my female sheriff’s outfit—complete with dark green hot pants. That one has always been a crowd-pleaser. After finding all the pieces to the costume, I drape them over my desk chair and proceed to plop down on the bed, realizing it’s still five hours until the concert. The next hurdle will be convincing my dad to let me go. This will probably prove quite difficult, especially since he’s spent the majority of the morning at the station finishing all the paperwork that’s accrued due to the recent cases. He probably won’t be in the best of moods when he gets home. I start to feel antsy and, against my better judgment, decide to call him at the station. The

319/494

first time I dial, the phone just rings and rings, but never goes to voicemail. The second time though, he picks up on the third ring. “This is Sheriff Marks.” “Dad, it’s me.” “This must be important if you’re calling me here, right?” he asks, and I can tell his day has been as annoying as I feared. “Actually, it kind of is. Remember how you said I need to clear my mind and relax?” “Yeah,” he replies. “Well, it turns out that Alex’s band is performing tonight. And before you say ‘no,’ I think it might be a great way for me to let off some steam.” I anxiously await his reply. The grumble that follows isn’t very promising. “Where is this gig?” I’m surprised when he doesn’t immediately shoot down the idea. “The Brick House.” “What time will you be out ’til?” “Wait, so does that mean I can go?” “Depends. What time will you be out ’til?”

320/494

“What time would you like me home?” I ask, feeling proud that I turned the line of questioning around on him. “Midnight, at the latest,” he answers. “Thanks, Dad. You have no idea how much this means to me.” “Midnight, Dani. I mean it. I’m trusting you with this,” he says and I can hear his parental tone loud and clear. “Thank you.” “Okay, is that all? Because I have a mountain of paperwork to get through.” “Yep, that’s it. Thanks again, Dad.” “No problem. Hopefully I get to see you before you head out.” “I’m sure you will, since I won’t be leaving until around seven or so.” “Good, see you at home then.” I can hear his smile come through the phone. “Oh, and Dani. I love you.” “Love you too, Dad.”

321/494

I almost don’t make it out of the house on time due to my father wavering over my costume selection. I never knew that he thought the lady sheriff outfit was too revealing. He says it’s the hot pants that have him unsure about the whole ensemble. I have to remind him that I’ve worn this several times before. I wonder why he’s showing his displeasure now. He finally caves, and with that, I grab my keys and give him a kiss before he has a chance to change his mind for, like, the fifteenth time. Running to my car, I throw on my sheriff’s jacket to fend off the cold night wind. Thankfully I had the forethought to put on black leggings and wear my sensible army green Chucks. As I reach Lexi’s driver’s side, I check the back seat. If horror movies have taught me anything, it’s to always check the back seat before entering a vehicle. When I see the coast is clear, I open the door and settle into the car.

322/494

A sudden rush hits me as I get behind the wheel. I keep thinking about Alex and Unknown. Even after talking to her earlier tonight, I didn’t feel any more at ease about the whole situation. Buckling up, I pull out of the driveway and head down the road, probably a little quicker than I should be driving in this neighborhood. Visibility is poor at best through the back roads that lead toward the club. There’s a lamppost about every mile, and each side of the street is covered by a thick wall of trees. I always forget how creepy it is out here at night, since I’ve only been to a couple of Alex’s gigs at this place. Usually I drive with her and Rory, but Rory opted out of going tonight. He’s still a little out of it. I’ve tried talking to him about what happened, but he changes the subject almost instantly every time. The lights flashing on my dashboard pull me from my thoughts. “That was strange,” I mutter while shifting my gaze between my dash, and the road ahead.

323/494

The lights flash again, but in a rapid succession this time. A weird electronic sound echoes through the car’s interior and all of the caution lights on my dashboard illuminate. “No, Lexi. Don’t do this to me right now. Not out here, please?” I complain while petting the top of the dash like a dog or cat. I pull off to the side of the road while slamming my fists onto the steering wheel in anger. Thankfully, I’m right under one of the few lampposts along this road. Shifting the car into park and turning off the engine, I sit there frustrated all to hell thinking about what I’m going to do. I grab my phone and dial Parker’s number. I’m only ten minutes from his college. The phone rings and goes to voicemail. I try again with the same result. “Dammit.”

Chapter Twenty Four Looking around outside, I can see nothing past the circle of light cascading onto the car. It’s pitch-black. My heart pounds at the thought of what or who might be out there. Fear slithers up the back of my neck once the feeling of isolation sets in. I frantically scroll through my contacts list for someone—anyone—I can call. A name comes up that I’m hesitant about, but he might be my only choice. It’s either him or my dad, and right now, I don’t think my father’s the best option. Selecting Kevin’s name, I dial his number and anxiously wait for him to answer. “Hey Dani, what’s up? I’m actually kind of surprised to hear from you.” “Hi, uh, sorry to be calling you like this, but I have a monumental favor to ask.” “You’re having Lexi troubles, aren’t you?” “Maybe. How’d you guess?”

325/494

“What else would you be calling me for?” he asks, causing me to feel bad. “Where are you?” “About ten minutes up Edgemount Road, heading toward The Brick House,” I reply. I wince as I realize how far out of his way he’ll have to come to help me. “I’m kind of stranded here under a light.” He sighs. “All right, hang tight. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” “Thank you so much, Kevin. I owe you big time.” “Yeah, you do,” he chuckles. The moment I hang up the phone, the sense of security I had while talking to Kevin fades. All that’s left is me, sitting in my car under a lamppost, surrounded by darkness. Every little sound has me jumping to see what caused it. The wind rattles my windows every time it passes through, no matter how tightly I roll them up. It succeeds in reminding me that I am, indeed, sitting inside an old POS.

326/494

A minute seems like an hour as I continue to wait for Kevin to arrive. I begin to see forms moving just outside the light’s reach, and wonder if it’s just my eyes playing tricks on me. “Pull it together, Dani,” I say, trying to ease my nerves. “There’s nothing out there, nothing at all.” The words sound reassuring, but don’t seem to be working. The cold from outside seeps through the gaps around my windows and doors. I shiver even though I’m wearing this heavy-duty sheriff’s jacket. I reach out to turn the key in the ignition with the hope that the car will start and I can get some heat going. The engine tries to turn over, but then all the lights flash and it dies again. “This is just perfect. The moment I actually need to get somewhere, Lexi lets me down in the worst way.” Movement in the rearview mirror has me spinning around to look out the back window. I don’t see anything. Instead, I hear an odd noise.

327/494

It sounds familiar, but I can’t quite put my finger on it. Panic builds within me as I watch the trunk slowly rise into the air. The sound I heard was its lock disengaging. A gasp escapes my lips as I clutch the headrest and freeze in place. I feel like I can’t even move an inch still staring at the trunk blocking my view out the back window. There’s no way in hell I could have done that from in here. I keep my gaze fixed on the back window while searching for the phone with my hand, slapping randomly at parts of the passenger seat where I tossed it earlier. When I can’t find it, I whimper and switch my attention to the seat and find the phone in seconds. I frantically press buttons until the phone redials Kevin’s number. When it reaches his voicemail, I throw the phone down in frustration and begin searching outside for any sign of a person. A strange scratching sound comes from the back seat area. It makes me think of someone

328/494

shredding fabric with scissors. Accompanying the sound, I see the center armrest in the back seat start to move, like something is trying to push it from behind. I lunge forward and press firmly on the armrest in hopes it will be enough to stop whatever’s on the other side from getting through. The scratching noise ceases and the armrest stops moving. An eerie silence fills the car, making me nervous about what may happen next. My eyes grow wide when I notice the door to my left isn’t locked. I click down the lock and my eyes dart to each of the other doors to see if they’re unlocked, as well. They are. Springing to each door, I hit every switch as fast as I can before backing myself into the driver’s seat. I scream when I accidentally hit the horn on the steering wheel with my ass. Now that my nerves are completely shot, I just wait for something else to happen. It’s all I can really do at this point. I figure I’m the safest

329/494

inside of a locked car. All that’s left is to wait for Kevin to show up. “Where the hell are you, Kevin?” I ask, my voice cracking from shivering in the cold. The trunk door slams closed, surprising me, and all I see is the shape of someone standing there, framed in bright light. It takes me a few seconds to realize that someone is parked behind me and that person’s headlights are shining into the car. “Dani?” I hear Kevin’s voice come from outside. I’ve never been this relieved to hear a familiar voice. “Yeah, I’m here, Kevin,” I reply breathlessly. “Why was your trunk open?” he asks, coming up to my driver’s side window. I roll it down and peer out. “It opened by itself and scared the crap out of me.” “Poor Lexi’s falling apart,” he jokes. “You could say that. I was actually beginning to think someone was out here messing with me.”

330/494

He laughs. “Well, they’re gone now. I didn’t see anybody when I pulled up.” “That’s good to hear, I guess.” “So, let’s pop the hood and see what Lexi’s got for me this time,” he says, gesturing to the front of the car. I pull the lever just below the steering wheel and hear the hood open. The sound the hood makes as Kevin wrenches it upward causes me to cringe. It’s such a harsh sound. The fact that I can’t see Kevin anymore makes me anxious. I hear him tinkering around in front of me, but I get a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. Opening the door, I step out of the car for the first time since pulling over. I hesitate to leave the safety of a locked car, but I can’t let Kevin be out here by himself, especially since I know there has to be someone out here with us. That freaking trunk didn’t open by itself. “Were you heading out to see Alex’s band play at The Brick House?” Kevin asks as I join him at the front of the car. The flashlight in his

331/494

mouth makes him mumble his words, but I understand him. “Yep,” I respond, and notice his eyes surveying my little costume instead of looking at the car. His light’s beam falls right on my cleavage and I scramble to cover the girls. He yells, “Crap,” when he drops his flashlight into the mess of cables surrounding the engine. “Nice costume,” he comments, digging around for the light. “Thanks,” I reply, pulling the jacket closed in order to cover up even more. “Got it,” he announces. “You fixed Lexi?” He laughs. “No, I found my flashlight.” “Oh.” “It looks like you’ve got some loose wiring going on here, but I should be able to fix it up quick and get you on your way.” The smile he sends me is comforting and puts me a little at ease. As I look around at the darkness surrounding us, though, that ease is quickly diminished.

332/494

“Thanks again for coming all the way out here to help me like this. I really appreciate it,” I say as Kevin passes by me on his way to the truck to retrieve more tools. “That’s what friends are for, right?” he answers while opening his driver’s side door. “Yeah, that’s what they’re for,” I murmur under my breath. I feel bad that I’ve been such a crappy friend to him. Some rustling from across the street causes me to spin around to see what caused it. “Uh, Kevin? Did you hear that just now?” I ask, still keeping my eyes on the area I was sure the noise came from. There’s no response from him. “Kevin?” I look over at his truck and see the driver’s side door open. His lights are off, and no one’s standing there. “Kevin?” My voice wavers with a twinge of fear. “Found what I needed,” he calls out while popping up in the driver’s seat, filling me with relief. For a second there, I thought Unknown might have done something to him.

333/494

Kevin laughs as he approaches me. “I really should clean out my truck. I can’t seem to find anything in there lately.” I grin. He can be so cute sometimes. Kevin has always been a happy-go-lucky kind of person, and it was always hard to make him angry. He’s like a handyman pacifist or something. “Hey, so now that we have some time, want to talk about Janice?” he asks, beginning to tinker with some wires near the engine. “What exactly do you want to talk about?” “The fact that I don’t blame you for what happened to her,” he replies and stares at me intently. “I mean, I know you brought her to the party, but what you didn’t see was how crazy she got when you went off to chat with that Parker guy.” I can tell from the way he says Parker’s name that Kevin’s not that fond of him. “What? Janice was being crazy?” “I tried telling her to take it easy on the alcohol, but she kept drinking. I left the party completely ticked off with her. She was dancing all

334/494

over guys and being a real…well, you know. It was like she was a different person or something.” “I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Are you sure we’re talking about the same Janice?” “Yeah. Hard to believe, huh? There’s really no telling what happened to her, or who’s responsible since she was pretty wrecked. I tried to get her to leave, but she refused. She went on and on about how her mom did this to her. I don’t know. I just wanted to make sure you knew all this. Maybe it might help in some way,” he explains with a saddened expression on his face. I sigh. “Actually, it kind of makes me feel worse. I was her enabler. She was just itching to get out, and now look what’s happened to her.” “You can’t keep blaming yourself, Dani. She made a lot of bad decisions that night, and though it may have resulted in a sad outcome, they were her decisions.” “When did you become such a psychology major?” I ask with a halfhearted laugh.

335/494

“I’ve done a lot of thinking after what happened to Janice. I guess this all may be some kind of a coping mechanism for me. If you really want to get into it, I’m just as much to blame for her disappearance as you are. Yeah, it wouldn’t have been pretty, but I could have dragged her away kicking and screaming from that party, but I didn’t,” he says. I can almost hear the tears in his voice. He looks up at me and doesn’t have to say a word for me to know exactly what he wants to say. I wrap my arm around his shoulder and squeeze tight. “This whole thing sucks. I had no idea you were going through the same emotions I was. I’m so sorry, Kevin.” “No worries. I’m stronger than I look.” “That’s for damn sure,” I comment, making him smirk. “So tell me about this Parker guy. I remember you two having a history, but I also know it’s a rocky one.”

336/494

“That’s actually a topic I’m not too keen on discussing at the moment. You really don’t want to open that Pandora’s box,” I reply, patting him on the back. “Fair enough. I just hope he realizes what he has,” he says. I won’t lie, I did smile inside when he said it, but I also became hyperaware that he still has feelings for me. “I’m sorry things didn’t work out between us like you wanted, Kevin.” “You’re not the only one,” he replies, standing up and giving me a peck on the cheek. “Car should be fixed.” “Thanks again, for everything,” I say, giving him a kiss on his cheek, as well. “Have fun tonight and be safe, okay? Call me if you have any more problems with Lexi.” “I will, don’t worry.” Sitting in my car, I look into the rearview mirror to see his truck lights turn on. I put the key into the ignition and turn. A huge grin appears on my face when the engine purrs. No flashing

337/494

lights, either. As Kevin starts to pull away, I wave to him. I put the car into drive and pull back onto the road. A sense of happiness comes over me because I finally talked to Kevin—like, truly talked to him. It was long overdue. Even though the subject matter wasn’t the most enjoyable, I was reminded of how much I do miss talking to him. I still don’t know if our conversation made me feel any less guilty over Janice’s disappearance, or that I don’t feel the same way toward him, but I think in an odd twist of fate, it brought us back to renewing our friendship.

Chapter Twenty Five By the time I arrive at The Brick House, I’m already fifteen minutes late. Damn. Parking in the first spot I see, I rush from the car, only to find there’s a line leading up to the entrance. As I wait, I hear the band playing one of my favorite songs, and I grumble to myself. Reaching the front of the line, the bouncer checks my driver’s license and Sharpies the back of my hand with a big fat X so everyone inside knows I’m a minor. I murmur my thanks before heading into the club. This place is a huge step up from Larry’s bar. It has a very trendy feel to it with red-bricked walls that have been spray-painted by local graffiti artists. The house lights are low since the band is on stage, but there’s a lot to love about the look of this place. One of the big differences between The Brick House and Larry’s is this bar

339/494

is clean. Thankfully, it’s warm inside, which means I can ditch the sheriff’s jacket. There’s a variety of costumes on display, but I notice something strange. Numerous people are wearing black-and-red skeleton hoodies along with a bright red skull mask. I guess I missed the morbid memo on that one. “Do you want a red reaper costume?” a guy just inside the club asks. “What’s that?” He shows me a plastic bag that contains the hoodie and mask. “It’s for people who didn’t come in a costume.” “No thanks, I’ll stick with the one I’ve got on,” I reply. “Suit yourself,” the guy states before asking the person coming in behind me the same question. “Dani? What are you doing here?” someone in one of the skull hoodies asks, coming up beside me. The person’s voice is muffled behind the cheap-looking plastic skull, so I can’t really

340/494

tell who it is. Parker pulls back the mask, which is actually attached to the hoodie, revealing his face. “I might ask you the same question.” He laughs. “This bar is right around the corner from my school. Where do you think us college students go? Besides, I saw your friend’s band was playing here tonight and decided to stick around.” “I called you earlier, but you didn’t pick up,” I say with an eyebrow raised. “My reception sucks in here. I hope it wasn’t anything important,” he says. “Not really. My car just broke down on the way here, and I was stranded, which is why I’m late.” “Ah, shit. I’m sorry. Is everything okay now?” “Yeah, everything’s peachy,” I answer in a mocking tone.

341/494

“Hey, let me buy you a drink. I know it won’t make up for it, but it will at least calm the nerves,” he says, placing his hand on my arm. I laugh, showing him the Sharpie X on my hand and shrug. “I’ve been branded.” “Don’t tell me that’s really going to stop you.” I flash him a mischievous smile. “Probably not, no.” He grins. “Pumpkin ale? They have it on draft.” “Sure, what the hell.” “That’s what I’m talking about,” he responds, taking the sheriff’s jacket off my hands before he drifts into the crowd toward the bar. When I hear the band queuing up for their next song, I wade through the sea of people in the direction of the stage. The closer I get to it, the more I notice that a lot of people are wearing those red reaper costumes. They all look like members of some creepy cult.

342/494

I laugh to myself when I notice Alex and her band mates wearing the same skeleton spandex outfits they did at Gunnar’s party. I bet Alex fought tooth and nail not to wear that out in public again. I’m relieved to see her having fun on stage and not in any danger. I try to yell out her name to get her attention, but the beginning of the song drowns out my voice. Looking around at the crowd, I see I’ve been completely surrounded by people dressed in those hoodies. It’s like I’m being walled in by them and they’re closing in on me. I’m not usually claustrophobic, but the heat from all their bodies is beginning to have an effect on me. Not to mention their getup is giving a serious case of the wiggins. I back up and a few people fill in the space I leave in front of me. I continue to move back, squirming my way through the mass of bodies that has corralled around the stage. Bumping into someone, I stop and begin to turn around to

343/494

apologize, but the person grabs me by the waist and pulls me into their arms. “Easy, Dani. It’s just me.” I hear the person’s muffled voice as I’m presented with a cup of beer. It sounds like Parker, but I can’t see his face because he has his mask pulled down. He begins to sway back and forth to the music, not quite matching the rhythm of the song. “Why are you wearing that, Parker?” I ask, taking the drink from his hand. “Don’t you like it?” he inquires, beginning to feel around my waist, leading down to my right leg. He’s definitely not being shy right now. “Seriously, Parker?” I ask, moving his hand away when it gets dangerously close to my inner thigh. I feel him tense after my rejection, releasing a breathy groan close to my ear. His hands come up and clasp gently around my shoulders. “You’re killing me in that outfit. You know that?” “Quit being so dramatic. And I thought we were slowing things down.”

344/494

“I didn’t agree to that,” he says, sliding his gloved fingers gently up and down my neck. I can’t lie and say I hate this feeling, because I don’t. I just dislike that we’re in public, causing me to feel quite exposed and a little dirty. The moment he starts maneuvering those digits down my shirt, I smack his hand. “Parker, what’s gotten into you?” I start to turn my head, but he stops me, forcing me to keep looking forward. His grip is tight around my neck and chin as he grinds his pelvis hard into me. I release a small moan and want to pull away, but feel incapacitated. “Parker, you’re hurting me,” I whine under the pressure of his hand. My breathing becomes labored as he puts more force into his grip, squeezing my windpipe. I start to feel lightheaded from the restricted airflow, and my drink slips from my fingers as they go numb. As it crashes onto the floor, I grab for Parker’s hand and try with all my might to tear it away from my throat.

345/494

“I’m not Parker,” he whispers. The music and crowd noise are muffled, but I hear his voice clearly right next to my ear. “Do you think this is how Mr. Whitman felt as the fumes filled his lungs and he suffocated?” Terror surges through me at the sinister tone in his voice. My scared eyes meet Parker’s when I see him making his way through the crowd, drinks in hand. I try to scream, but nothing comes out except a high-pitched wheezing sound. “Hey, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I hear Parker yell in our direction, pushing through the mass of people, trying to hurry over to us. “See you soon, Dani,” the person says close to my ear, then lets me go. I release a cough as I slump to the floor, trying to catch my breath. I feel someone grab me and I look up to see Parker’s worried face in front of mine.

346/494

“I think…that was Unknown,” I choke out between wheezes. Before I have a chance to say anything else, Parker dashes away in hot pursuit. There’s a break in the music followed by a rowdy reception. The cheers are deafening within this small bar and I worry I might be trampled if I don’t get up soon. It takes me a minute to realize I’m kneeling in my spilt beer. The cold, wet feeling on my knees causes me to roll back and rest on my calves. As the crowd settles, I notice everyone in my immediate area is staring at me. A couple of people even ask if I’m okay. How exactly am I supposed to answer that when none of them saw what happened? I pick myself up off the ground, and the instant I make it to my feet, hands grab the sides of my arms. “Are you all right?” Parker asks, trying to catch his breath. “Did you catch him?”

347/494

“No. The bastard’s fast. I lost him in the alley behind the bar. Wait—Unknown’s definitely a ‘him’?” “Yeah. At least, the voice sounded like a guy’s.” I pause, looking dejectedly into his eyes. “I thought he was you.” “Fuck. I’m so sorry, Dani. I should have been with you.” He cups my face in his palms and strokes his thumb across my cheek. “He had me in his hands,” I whisper and hear my voice shake. Parker wraps his arms around my frame and hugs me close. He doesn’t say anything, but continues to hold me. “Parker Reed.” I hear Alex’s voice sound behind us. I can tell by the level of snarkiness in her tone that she’s not happy to see him. “Hey, Alex,” he replies, but sounds puzzled by the way she said his name. I back away from Parker’s embrace and turn to face her.

348/494

“Huh, definitely didn’t see this one coming,” she laughs to herself, but I sense there’s some dissatisfaction behind that statement. “This isn’t what it looks like,” I respond, and I’m met by Alex’s quirked eyebrow. Her judgmental eyes are quite the ball-breaker. “Hold on, I’m confused here. What isn’t what it looks like? Because I thought I was just helping a friend who had too much to drink,” Parker replies, sending me a knowing glance. Alex rolls her eyes, seemingly over the conversation. “Did you guys at least enjoy the show?” “Yeah, it was great.” “You didn’t see it, did you?” she asks. “No, we did. You guys rocked it,” Parker says, but he sounds even less convincing than I did. “Well, thanks for coming out, anyway.” Alex grabs me in a hug. “You, me, conference later, okay?” she whispers. Then she pulls back, a forced smile on her face. I know she wants to talk

349/494

about why I’m still messing around with Parker. If only she knew what was really going on. “Definitely.” “Parker, always a pleasure,” she states, waving lazily at him with a squinty-eyed smile. He smirks. “Feeling’s mutual.” “Riiiight. Well, I’m going to grab a drink with the band. Do you guys want to tag along?” “I think I’d better get Dani home. She sipped on a few too many of my beers.” “Yeah, I feel completely blitzed,” I say after sending Parker a quick scowl. Alex’s eyes dart back and forth between Parker and me. “Riiiight.” She stops on me with a pointed stare. “Conference later.” I feel the sting of her words like a jellyfish’s tentacle. “Got it.” “So, that was sufficiently awkward,” Parker comments when he’s sure Alex is not within earshot. “Yeah, she pretty much hates your guts for what you did to me.”

350/494

“Good to know for future interactions.” Turning his attention solely to me, he asks, “Why didn’t you tell her what just happened to you? You can’t keep avoiding that these things are actually happening.” “I’m not avoiding what’s happening. I just don’t want to put anyone else in danger.” “Don’t you think it’s more dangerous for people if you don’t tell them? I mean, you told me, right?” “You were different.” “How?” he asks, folding his arms in front of his chest while staring at me. “I really don’t feel like getting into this, okay? I was just attacked by someone, and then grilled by one of my best friends about you. I think I may be a little overemotional at the moment.” “But she didn’t say anything about me.” “She’s a girl. She didn’t have to. We say a lot more with a glare than we do with just words.” “You can say that again,” he murmurs.

351/494

“Anyway, I think I’ve had my fill for the night. And it seems like Unknown got what he wanted from me. So, I’m just going to go buy a souvenir T-shirt and head home.” “I still owe you that drink,” he says. “Fine, but I have to be home by midnight. Father’s orders.” “Okay, but not here. There’s this cool little bar directly across the street from my school. It’s literally a block from here. I might be able to score us some free drinks since I know the owner,” he replies with inflection on the free drinks part. “Free drinks are always good. Besides, if we stay, then Alex will know we lied to her, and I’d never hear the end of that.” “All right, let’s grab your jacket from behind the bar and then we’ll head out,” he says. “I’ll just wait for you here.” When I see his forehead crease after my response, I add, “I’ll be fine. Just hurry back, okay?” “Are you sure?”

352/494

I release a hollow giggle. “Yeah, I’m sure. I can pretty much guarantee that if I go to the bar and we bump into Alex, we’ll never be able to get out of here.” “Good point. I’ll be right back, all right? Don’t move,” he says before hurrying off. I feel exposed standing near the entrance alone. Most of the activity in the club is around the bar or on the dance floor. The only other people here with me are a couple massively making out on the wall beside me, and the guy who offered me a costume earlier. I feel dirty thinking back to when Unknown had me in his arms and was trying to feel me up. I want to burn this costume and proceed to pour acid all over the places his gloves touched my bare skin. The sloppiness of the kiss happening next to me is beginning to gross me out. It sounds like someone’s slurping up an ice cream sandwich that started to melt. I decide to move away from the wall and wait closer to the door for Parker to return.

353/494

I tense when I see several people wearing that red reaper costume approaching me. I have flashes of one of them grabbing me and dragging me outside kicking and screaming. Snap out of it, Dani. Unknown is gone…Parker chased him off. After the last of the group passes by and out the door, I release the breath I didn’t realize I was holding. “Sorry it took me so long, I wanted to change out of that stupid hoodie for obvious reasons,” Parker explains, coming up beside me with my jacket in hand. “Thanks for doing that.” “No problem. Ready to go?” “Yeah, I think so.” Parker holds the sheriff’s jacket open so I can slide into it. He quickly rubs his hands up and down my arms after I’m cozied up in the jacket to get me all warmed up before we head out into the cold. I can’t help but wish he was this attentive all the time.

Chapter Twenty Six When we get outside, my first reaction is to walk to my car, but Parker has other plans. “I’ll drive,” he says, tugging on my hand in the direction of where he parked. When I send him a worried look, he says, “Don’t worry, your car will be fine here. We’re only going to be gone for a little while, and this place doesn’t close until three in the morning.” “I don’t know. What if—” “‘What if’ nothing. Come on, let me drive,” he says. Reaching his motorcycle, he hands me the one helmet that’s resting on the hook attached to seat’s backrest. “Here, you should wear it.” “But what about you?” “I’ll be fine. Besides, you’re precious cargo, and I’m not,” he replies with a grin. I slide on the helmet to cover the major blush that’s destroying my face.

355/494

Parker settles onto the bike and pulls out a stick of cinnamon gum from his pocket while waiting for me to join him. He slowly slips the piece of gum into his mouth as he scans me from head to toe. “You getting on, or what?” he asks with a laugh. “Oh, yeah,” I reply, feeling embarrassed that I was caught staring at him in a daze. His little cinnamon-gum-mouth show was making me reminisce about our last kiss, which I find a very welcoming distraction from thinking about Unknown. As I snuggle up to him on the bike, he digs through his jeans pockets. He murmurs, “Shit” when he doesn’t seem to find what he’s looking for. He proceeds to pat down his leather jacket, but still comes away with nothing. “Can’t find your keys?” “No, I have those. I can’t find my cell phone,” he replies, peering back at me. “Damn, I bet I left it in my dorm. Mind if we swing by there to check?”

356/494

“I thought you said you didn’t get my call because you had no reception in the club.” “Usually I don’t get great reception in there, but tonight I never checked my phone. Probably because I didn’t have it with me,” he explains, his gaze steady on mine. “Why do I get the feeling you don’t believe me?” “I’m not saying I don’t. I just can’t help but think that this might be some elaborate attempt to get me back to your dorm.” He releases a small laugh. “Would I really need to go to these great lengths just to get you in my dorm room again?” His beautiful grin is like Medusa’s stare, but instead of turning me into stone, I just melt into a puddle. “It’ll only take a second to get my phone, and then we’ll head to the bar. Promise.” I nod before I begin to imagine the two of us rolling around on his twin mattress that’s only large enough for one. I try to snap out of it, but I become flustered again while picturing his mouth

357/494

moving around my body, leaving little kisses all over. “Hey, I forgot to tell you,” he says, thankfully distracting me from my thoughts. “I stopped by Mr. Whitman’s house today.” “I’m sorry, but can we not talk about that? After what that sick asshole whispered in my ear about Mr. Whitman, I don’t want to think about it,” I reply. “Wait, he told you he killed Mr. Whitman?” “Yeah, but can we please drop it? Like I said, I’m not really in the mood to chat about that.” “Sure thing.” I feel the tears coming on, but I take in a deep breath, fighting hard not to cry. Parker brings my hand, which rests just above his stomach, up to his lips for a quick, comforting kiss. I let out a sniffle when the emotions become too much to bear, but I still manage to battle back the tears. He interlocks his smooth strong fingers within mine and I smile at how gentle he’s being right now.

358/494

As we pull into the parking lot just outside his dormitory, Parker finds a spot closest to the stairwell that leads up to his hallway. The senior housing actually resembles more of an apartment complex than an actual dorm. “Okay, so don’t make this sound like more than it is, but do you want to come up?” he asks, shutting off the engine. “Yeah, we’re only getting your phone, remember?” He chuckles. “Exactly.” “Besides, it’s kind of creepy out here, and I don’t really want to be left alone right now,” I joke, but my voice wavers. Reaching his dorm room, Parker puts his key into the lock, turns it, and pushes the door open. He flips the light switch, illuminating the room. While still standing outside, I peer around the quaint space that seems perfect enough for one. I’m actually surprised when it doesn’t smell like

359/494

a gym locker, but instead has a fresh scent. The last time I was in here, I didn’t pay much attention to what it looked like or how it smelled, since I was suffering from one hell of a “hangover.” “Uh, you can come in, you know?” he calls out to me from the living room area. “I know, but I’m fine waiting here,” I answer as my eyes pan over to his twin bed in the corner. The bed is made, but all I can think about is messing it up. After hearing my response, Parker looks over at me, stalling the hunt for his phone. “Come on, don’t be silly. It’s cold outside.” He smiles when I step into the room before he resumes his search. Closing the door, I move to sit on the comfy-looking couch, all the while watching him look feverishly for his phone. You’d think he would’ve left it somewhere out in the open.

360/494

“So, did you hide your phone from yourself or something?” I ask dryly after hearing him murmur, “Where could it be?” He laughs. “That’s a slight possibility, yes.” An obvious solution pops into my head. “Why don’t I just call it?” “Simple, direct…I like it,” he says with a grin. I roll my eyes before pulling out my phone to dial his. A song that I never expected to hear coming from his phone fills the room. “Is that Jason Mraz’s I Won’t Give Up? Wait…is that set to my number, or is that your ringtone for everyone?” He scrambles to grab his phone from under some clothes on top of the dresser, clearly embarrassed that I heard it. “Uh, it may possibly…be yours,” he replies, sweeping his hand through his hair. “Huh.” “Huh? That’s it? That’s all you have to say?” he asks, joining me on the couch. He slouches

361/494

back into the opposite corner and props his right leg in front of him. “Say what you will about the song, but I can honestly tell you I’ve never done this for anyone else.” I’m not quite sure how to respond to him. Sure, it feels nice that this is the first time he’s customized a ringtone for someone, but… Aw hell. Who am I kidding? He’s freaking adorable. “Actually, I really like that song,” I admit with a smile. “Good.” He returns the smile. “You know, you have the prettiest smile I’ve ever seen. It’s a shame with everything going on that you aren’t able to smile more often.” My cheeks flush with heat as I dodge his intent stare. The smile that was on my face turns into less than a half-smirk and I simply reply, “Thanks.” The grin on his mouth widens. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable or anything.”

362/494

“You didn’t. It’s just that I don’t hear things like that very often,” I reply, glancing over at him then averting my eyes. “Well, then it looks like I came back into town at just the right time.” “Why’s that?” “Because you should’ve had guys telling you this all day, every day,” he responds and my blush completely wrecks my face. Though I find everything Parker’s telling me very romantic and swoon-worthy, I just can’t seem to shake the fact I was physically assaulted by Unknown tonight. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad Parker is trying to distract my mind with all this. It’s something he’s always done quite well. But reality is a bitch sometimes. “Was it something I said?” he asks, seeming to realize my mood has changed. “No. I was just thinking about how vulnerable Unknown has made me. I feel like my whole life is at his disposal to just eff with anytime he feels like it. I appreciate you trying to distract

363/494

me, but the scary truth is I could’ve died tonight. He had me in his grasp and could’ve easily strangled me. That’s a terrifying thought, you know?” Parker goes quiet for a moment and leans forward, resting his right elbow on the back of the couch. “Don’t think like that, Dani. I’ll admit that the thought of me losing you tonight has been on my mind this whole time. It rips my heart out to even think about it. And because we’re never guaranteed tomorrow, I’m a firm believer that we should always seize what we want the moment the feeling hits us. Almost losing you tonight reminded me of that.” He slides closer to me and places his hand on my leg. “Which is why I’m going to do what I’m about to do right now.” Before I have a chance to say anything, he leans in and lightly kisses my mouth, as if testing the waters. As he pulls back slightly, I feel his warm breath caress my lips. He hovers there, waiting. When I don’t reciprocate the action right away, he takes a hold of my hand and places it on

364/494

his chest. His heart is pounding ferociously. I feel every beat. “Do you see what you do to me?” he asks, his husky voice making me shiver. “That’s all you right there.” I find myself getting lost in his gaze and want so bad to just kiss him back, but I’m having a hard time separating Unknown’s hands all over me from Parker’s. “Parker—” I start to say, but then I’m distracted by him moistening his lips. “You know all I want to do right now is kiss you, but—” “Then what’s stopping you?” he asks, sliding my hand through the gap between the buttons on his shirt to rest on his bare chest. For a moment, every thought about Unknown leaves my mind, and all I can think about is how badly I want this man in front of me. Then my stubbornness gets in the way. “Unknown—he’s stopping me. I can’t get the idea of his filthy hands touching me out of my

365/494

head,” I reply, removing my hand from Parker’s grip. “Well, how about you just touch me?” he asks, laying back to lean against the arm of the couch. “You can be the one in control.” He raises his arms above his head and lays there in a submissive pose. I stare at him, his face is serious, yet comforting. This doesn’t seem like him being cocky or too forward. He’s just trying to express how much he cares for me, and is even willing to let me be in control in order to make me feel more at ease. It’s kind of hot. He knows we both want this, and have for some time now. “I don’t want to force you to do anything you don’t want to,” he says, bringing his hands to rest on his stomach. “What makes you think you’re forcing me to do this?” I ask as I crawl on top of him. He goes to wrap his arms around me, but I scoop them up and rest them back behind his head. He smirks at this action, and lets out a small breath.

366/494

“I could get used to this,” he says, raising his head to kiss the front of my neck. I release a tiny moan of satisfaction once the feeling of his lips on my skin becomes too much to bear. The sensation of his warm breath on the cool moist places wherever he leaves a kiss causes my body to erupt in delicious goose bumps. Leaning back to rest on his legs, I grab his shirt and rip it open. Thankfully his buttons are of the snap-together variety. I sit there admiring his physique with my hands—a physique he’s clearly put a lot of work into. He grins up at me when I catch his eyes, and pulls me closer. He wraps his arms around my waist and rolls himself on top of me. “Is this okay?” he asks close to my face. I can tell he wants to make sure this whole thing is how I want it to go. He truly does want me to be in control. “Yeah,” I reply, nodding my head before placing my hands on his face and kissing him. He doesn’t resist in the slightest, and our lips collide.

367/494

I reach around to the front of his shirt and wrestle to pull it back and down over his shoulders. He shakes out of it the rest of the way and plants his firm chest on me again. My hands find themselves exploring his sculpted back as he kisses me. The feeling of his firm tongue sweeping through my mouth fills me with anticipation of where this is eventually going to lead. When his hand begins to creep up my shirt, I squirm because I’m a little ticklish. “Is this still okay?” he asks, removing his hand from under my shirt. I smile at him because of how attentive and caring he’s being. I nod and put his hand right back where it was. He leans down close to my ear as his hand trails up my stomach to just below my bra. He grazes his fingertips just underneath it, causing me to clench my eyes shut while drawing in a deep, pleasurable breath. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispers. Reaching down, I unbuckle his belt and undo the button on his jeans before sliding down the

368/494

zipper. The sound of his zipper seems to send him into overdrive. He wraps an arm around me and pulls my shirt up. I raise my arms above my head, allowing the shirt to be easily removed. Parker holds my gaze when our eyes meet again, and gently caresses my face with his firm fingers. “There’s so much I want to tell you right now.” “Don’t tell me. Show me,” I reply, feeling all negative emotions slipping away and fully embracing Parker. He rises from the couch and tucks one arm under my knees and the other against my back. He cradles me into his arms as I wrap mine around his neck. Our lips remain connected until he lays me on his twin-size bed, and even then, it takes a few moments. We’re completely enraptured with one another. I sense every emotion Parker has for me through the slightest touch on my bare skin. He kicks off his shoes, followed by his pants, revealing the black-and-blue striped boxer-briefs

369/494

underneath. He brings his mouth to rest on my stomach, placing small kisses around my belly button. His strong hands brace my hips as I begin to squirm from the crazy sensation. When I reach down to unbutton my hot pants, he stops me. He takes my hands and gently places them by my sides before flashing me a smile. His fingers graze my bare stomach, leading down to the top band of my hot pants. He teases my panty line before unbuttoning and unzipping the hot pants. Sliding them off with a little assistance from me, he tosses them to the ground to join the rest of our clothes. He brings his head up and places a kiss on my lips before heading over to his dresser. Throwing open the top drawer, he draws out a condom. He shuts off the light, plunging the majority of the room into darkness. The only source of light now is the one coming through the blinds just behind the bed. He places the condom on the nightstand next to the bed and climbs up, straddling me in the

370/494

process. His muscular legs feel so nice next to mine. The blinds create a pattern of light across Parker’s chest, leaving his face silhouetted. “Are you sure you want to do this? Because I’m cool with just some on-top-of-the-clothes stuff. Well, at least what we still have on,” he says with a subtle laugh. I lean over and grab the condom from the stand. “I want to,” I reply, putting it in his hand. He brings his face into the light and I smile when I see that gorgeous grin of his. “Will you do the honors?” he asks in a smooth, sexy voice while putting the condom wrapper in front of my mouth. I rip open the package with my teeth and hand it back to him. After he crumples the wrapper in his fist and throws it off to the side, he presses himself against my bare skin. I look up at him and am filled with happiness at the look in his eyes. They aren’t lustful eyes. They’re caring eyes.

371/494

As he braces his arm around me to get in a better position, I close my eyes and moan in anticipation of the first push. I wish he could feel what he’s doing to me right now. The love I feel for this man— Wait! Did I just say love? “I want you to look at me, Dani.” He speaks softly, hovering right above my face, penetrating my thoughts. I open my eyes and he smiles. “I’m not going to hurt you, okay? We’ll take it slow.” “Okay,” I reply. His lips press against mine in a passionate embrace as he eases inside me. I clutch his back and leave the comfort of his lips to rest my head in the space between his head and shoulder, preparing for the next thrust. I feel him pull back a little and place his hand on my chin so I face him. “I want you to look at me,” he whispers with gentle eyes just before he slides in again. His voice is so calming, and I just get lost, cast adrift amongst his words to the point that the slight

372/494

pain felt is now replaced with pure, unadulterated bliss. I begin to move with him, feeling every inch of his muscles tensing along with mine. My eyes never leave his, even when he dips down to kiss me once more. “Dani?” he whispers breathlessly into my ear. It takes me a moment to reply because I’m so distracted by taking all of him in. “Yeah,” I answer moments later, just as out of breath. He starts to say something, but it’s stifled since my attention is focused on his hips moving forward against mine again. Then I slowly process what he was about to say before he cut himself off. He almost said the “L” word. I can’t lie and say I haven’t thought about telling him this too, but it’s quite a different thing to say it out loud. When you say it, that’s when it becomes real and not just some crazy thought in your own head. As he kisses me again, I can’t help but wonder why he stopped himself before he said it.

Chapter Twenty Seven I watch as Parker pulls on his briefs and moves into the room off to the side, which I remember is the bathroom. Grabbing my clothes off the floor, I start to get dressed while waiting for him to return. I climb back onto the bed and sit there, replaying our intense love-making session in my mind. Then the “L” word pops into my head again, and I wonder again what stopped him from saying it to me earlier. “Dressed already?” Parker asks while coming back into the room. My surprised eyes dart over to him, almost like he caught me saying a secret out loud. When I realize I didn’t actually say anything, I reply, “Yeah. Midnight curfew, remember?” He comes over and gives me a big kiss on the lips while running his fingers through my hair. I let it go on longer than I probably should since I

374/494

do need to get home soon. I just can’t bring myself to say no to him right now. Taking a breather, I say, “I really do need to get home, Parker.” He groans and gives me one last kiss. “All right. Even though it’s against my better judgment, I’ll let you leave,” he says, letting out a light chuckle. “Give me a sec to get dressed, okay?” He collects his clothes and moves back into the bathroom. I decide to go outside and get some fresh air. The room is filled with lingering heat and the scent of sex. It’s beginning to drive me wild. I open the door and step out, taking in a deep, relaxing breath of cool air. A contented sigh parts my lips and makes me smile. “So, you must be the new flavor of the week,” I hear a female’s voice come from my left side. I turn abruptly to face her because obviously she’s talking to me. “Excuse me?”

375/494

“That Parker sure is quite the manwhore. You better run while you still can, chickadee, because his heart’s already taken by some girl named Dani.” “Who are you?” I ask, finding myself getting more annoyed the longer she keeps talking. “Oh, I’m just Ex-Plaything Number Three, who lives down the hall.” “Number three? He told me he only had one.” Her laughter brings an angry frown to my face. “You’re Dani, aren’t you?” she asks with an eyebrow raised. I close the dorm room door before I answer, not really wanting Parker to hear any part of this conversation. “Maybe.” “You’re very pretty. I can see why he likes you so much. But let me give you some advice, girl to girl. Guys like Parker may truly only love one woman, but that doesn’t mean they’ll be satisfied with only one. Think about it,” she explains with a squinty-eyed smile.

376/494

“You let me deal with Parker, okay? I think I may know him a little better than you,” I reply, though deep down I’m not confident in what I say. “Your funeral,” is all she says before starting to walk off. “Oh, and the name’s Sarah. Not that you really wanted to know, but there it is.” “It was nice meeting you, Sarah,” I call out to her. “Same here.” The door to Parker’s room opens and I glare at him. “Everything okay out here?” “Yeah. What makes you think it isn’t?” I reply, shrugging my shoulders. “Uh, your face kind of tells me it isn’t,” he states, joining me outside. I know I’m going to regret this the moment I ask. “Who’s Sarah?” Parker brushes his hand across his chin and gazes down the hall where I saw Sarah walking earlier. “She’s my ex. Was she just here?”

377/494

“Yeah, and she told me she was number three. Is that true?” I ask, not sure if my heart can handle the truth right now. The moment he begins to comb his hand through his hair, I know my answer. “Dani—” “Just take me back to my car, please,” I say, interrupting him. “Can we talk about this?” “For right now, I think I’m done talking to you. All I want is to go back to my car and drive home. That’s the least you can do for me.” My heart feels like it’s being shredded into a bloody pulp, and I feel so stupid for yet again tearing down my walls for him. “Okay. I’ll take you to your car,” he answers, closing and locking the door behind him. The drive back to The Brick House is overflowing with awkward. I’m actually glad we’re on a motorcycle since there’s no opportunity for us to chat. I sense by how tense Parker’s holding himself that he wants to talk about this. I find myself dreading the moment when we reach the

378/494

club, because I know he’ll make an attempt to explain himself. When we stop in front of the club, I step off the motorcycle and remove the helmet. I shove it into Parker’s chest before he even has a chance to stand up. He sits there with a hurt expression on his face, waiting to see what I’m going to do next. I can tell by the look in his eyes that he wants me to hug him and give him a proper good night, but I can’t pull myself to do it. I mutter a quick “bye” and move past him toward my car. I don’t even look back to see how he’s reacting. Plopping down into the driver’s seat, I don’t put the key into the ignition right away. I just sit there, staring at it in my hand. The roar of a motorcycle’s engine causes me to look out my back window to see Parker’s taillights driving out onto the street. A depressed sigh leaves my lips as I turn the keys in the ignition, starting the car. Buzz…Buzz…

379/494

That horrid sound emanates from my pocket. Pulling out the phone, I unsurprisingly see a message from Unknown: Poor Kevin’s suffering from a broken heart. At least you put him out of his misery…literally. “Kevin?” I ask the empty car, dropping the phone into my lap. I pound on the steering wheel furiously, trying to get out all of my aggression toward Unknown. A sad cry pierces my lips. Angry tears roll down my face at the thought of something bad happening to Kevin. Grabbing the phone, I type a reply: What the fuck did you do to Kevin? You sick fuck! It only takes a few seconds before the phone pings with another message: Temper, temper, Dani. Follow the breadcrumbs and you’ll find your answer… I throw the phone into the passenger seat and just sit there, staring out the window through misty eyes. I never really pray, but for once in my life, I find myself praying for Kevin’s safety.

380/494

A knock on the passenger side window causes me to raise my head from the steering wheel and wipe the tears from my eyes. A second, louder, knock has me turning to see who it is. Alex stands outside the car, shivering in the cold. Her black and white face paint is smeared, and it’s obvious she’s had a few drinks. “What are you still doing here?” she asks close to the window, her breath fogging it up. I clear my throat as to not sound like a frog when I speak. “I was just leaving.” “Hold on a second,” she yells at someone behind her, probably her ride home. She turns her attention back to me. “You look upset. Want to talk?” “Not really, no,” I reply, but the tears get in the way and it comes out all phlegmy-sounding. “Come on, open the door,” she says, jiggling the handle. “Not right now, Alex, please.”

381/494

“What kind of friend would I be if I left you here crying your eyes out? Now open the damn door,” she says with a soft laugh. I reach over and flip up the lock. She proceeds to stumble into the car, falling into a sitting position on the seat. “Whoa, that could have been disastrous. Remind me not to drink so much next time,” she jokes, but when she sees it doesn’t make me laugh, her face turns serious. She places her hand on my shoulder, rubbing back and forth. “I’m going to fucking kill, Parker, you know that, right? Did he do this to you?” “No, it wasn’t him,” I choke out. “Good, because I seriously wasn’t looking forward to prison life. So, then what’s wrong? I know you’re not crying like this over nothing.” I want to answer her and spill everything, but I don’t want to drag her into this. Then again, maybe she’s already a part of this just by simply knowing me.

382/494

A heavy breath parts my lips before I speak. “There’s a lot going on that you don’t know about.” “Then tell me. Is this about all the crazy shit that’s been going on around here lately?” She shakes off her drunken stupor and seems focused on my answer. It’s almost like our conversation is sobering her up. “Yeah, it is actually.” “What’s wrong, Dani? Just tell me.” “If I do, you have to promise not to say anything to anyone. This can’t leave this car.” “Pinky swear,” she says, holding up her pinky finger and waiting for me to complete the action. “Someone is murdering people in our town and making it look like accidents.” Alex’s eyes never leave mine as I continue, “This person has been messing with me ever since Janice disappeared. Every time one of these crimes was committed, I received a text or some type of hint that this person did it.”

383/494

“Does your dad know all of this?” “Yeah, but he doesn’t believe me, since this unknown guy erases everything he sends me before I have a chance to use it against him. I had to tell Parker because the psycho sent me incriminating stuff involving him and me.” “Whoa, Dani—this is really effed up. Are you absolutely serious about this?” she asks, and I can tell the information is becoming overwhelming for her. I nod, causing her to slump back in the seat with a bewildered look on her face. “This is some dangerous shit, Dani. What are we going to do? Maybe I should’ve drunk some more.” “We aren’t going to do anything. I don’t want you involved any more than you already are. The moment you begin to help me, I’m worried you might end up like the others,” I reply with a concerned look on my face. Alex sits in a daze, seemingly not sure what to say next. I can see the wheels in her head

384/494

turning. A knock on the passenger side window startles both of us. “Are you coming or what?” a guy asks through the window. “No, I’m going to hitch a ride with my friend here,” she answers. “Whatever,” the guy states in frustration and storms off. “Ass,” she mutters toward the window before turning to face me. “Hey, you don’t mind, do you? Giving me a ride home?” “No, I don’t mind at all. I do have one question for you though.” “Yeah, what’s up?” she replies, sounding distracted. “Do you believe me?” “It seriously scares the shit out of me to say this, but for some strange reason, I do,” she answers, her voice wobbly. “Thank you.”

Chapter Twenty Eight Putting the car in reverse, I back out of the parking spot and pull out onto the street, heading home. Alex starts to ask a question, but stops, almost like she hasn’t thought it out completely. A heavy sigh sounds from her direction, and I understand exactly how she feels. I’ve been feeling that way for what seems like an eternity now. As we pass by the spot where I broke down earlier, thoughts of Kevin clutter my mind. I hear his voice resonate in my head and I start to become emotional again. I’m terrified to find out what Unknown meant by his text. I don’t want to deal with another person gone from my life. “What’s that?” Alex asks. I follow her finger, pointing out the windshield at something in the distance. When we get closer, I see that it’s a truck pulled off to the side of the road. “Oh, no. That’s Kevin’s truck,” I say, my voice trembling.

386/494

I bring the car to a crawl while moving behind the truck, and eventually put it in park. My car’s headlights are the only source of light in the area. From where I’m sitting, the vehicle looks abandoned. I grab my phone and dial Kevin’s number. The phone begins to ring on my end, and then in front of us as I hear a faint melody sounding from outside. I hang up, realizing that his phone is in the truck. “Dammit.” “Dani, what’s going on?” Alex asks, becoming more panicked every second. “Did that guy do this?” “I think so. I need to call my dad.” The moment I go to press my father’s name, a message pops up at the top of the screen. I want to ignore it, but can’t. The message reads: There’s something waiting for you in the front cab… “What is it?” Alex asks when I glance over at her and she sees the grim expression on my face.

387/494

“He wants me to check the front of the truck.” “Screw that, Dani. You’re not getting out of this car. Call your dad and have him deal with this, okay? It’s his job, not yours, and now you’ve got proof,” she explains in a frantic manner, complete with arm flailing. Taking her advice, I ignore the text and call my father. It rings twice before he picks up. “It’s almost midnight. I hope you’re on your way home,” he says when he answers. “Dad, I need you to come quick. Kevin’s truck is out here and he doesn’t appear to be in it.” “Now, calm down, Dani. Where are you?” “I don’t really know exactly where we are, but I think there was a sign that said three miles to Holden Ridge. We’re on Edgemount Road. Please hurry and bring backup. Something doesn’t feel right,” I explain, knowing full well something isn’t right. I need my dad to see this in

388/494

hopes that he might believe what I’ve been saying is true. “I’m sure there’s a rational explanation for this. I’ll be there soon, okay?” he replies calmly, which only succeeds in frustrating me more. “Dad, I know there’s something wrong here. Just hurry, please.” I hear him sigh into the receiver. “I’ll be there soon.” Hanging up the phone, I stare at the abandoned vehicle in front of me. “He says he’ll be here soon,” I murmur, not taking my eyes from the truck. “Oh, thank God.” I look over and see Alex making the gesture of the cross on herself. It looks like both of us have had a spiritual moment tonight. “Now, we just wait this out until the sheriff gets here, and—”She stops talking when she hears my car door unlock. “What do you think you’re doing?” “You don’t understand. I have to check the front of the truck. The last time I ignored a

389/494

message from Unknown, it didn’t end well,” I respond and pull on the door handle. “Have you ever thought that’s what he wants you to do? And don’t think you’re leaving me in here by myself,” she argues, grabbing my arm. “Alex, just stay in the car. I’ll be right back. I’m tired of running from this fucker.” “Well, then I’m coming with you. Two’s better than one, right?” she asks, and I can tell she’s just as scared as I am—maybe even more so. We open our doors at the same time and cautiously exit the car. The darkness is thick around us, even with my lights on high beam. I can make out Alex’s face over the roof as we exchange worried glances before moving toward the truck. Once she reaches the space between the vehicles, she bolts across in front of the headlights in order to cling to my arm. Her heart is beating so quickly, I feel it through her hands. Apprehension really sets in when we move toward the driver’s side door. I reach out to grab the handle and push in the button with my thumb,

390/494

causing the door to pop unlocked. The slightly rusty door creaks open when I slowly pull back, causing us both to wince at what we might find inside. We’re on a slope, so when I let go of the door, it practically falls open. Together, we peer into the front seat and find that it’s empty. I groan. Unknown’s just screwing with me. I hate this guy with every ounce of my being. “Okay, so there’s nothing there. Can we go back into the car, please?” Alex asks, pulling on the sleeve of my sheriff’s jacket. The instant I’m about to reply, my phone vibrates. Checking it, I see that my dad is calling me. “Where are you?” I ask. “I’m on my way. I’m about five minutes out.” “Good. See you soon, and please hurry.” When I hang up the phone, I see Alex standing by the bed of the truck with her back to me, but she isn’t moving. I notice the light from her

391/494

phone is on and she seems highly concentrated on what she’s looking at. “Alex?” “Dani,” she responds, seeming like she’s in a daze. “I think there’s blood on this truck.” I take a few steps toward her and see that it’s her hand she’s studying so closely. The deep red color on her palm and fingers reflects in the bright light from her phone. My wide eyes meet hers when she stares up at me. Her frightened look turns to one of disgust as she wipes her hand along the truck in an attempt to get the blood off. The vibration in my pocket has me drawing out my phone again. “It’s a message from Unknown,” I blurt out. “What does it say?” she asks, her voice quivering from fear. “It says: ‘Check inside the truck’s bed.’” “That’s it. I’m done playing around, Dani. I am way too fucking drunk for this, and I think we’ve made a huge mistake. I’ve got blood on

392/494

my hands, and I’m about to lose my shit,” she says, her voice rising on every word. I move closer to the handle that releases the top of the truck’s bed. “What if Kevin’s in here?” I ask, wrapping my hand around the handle and preparing myself to press the button with my thumb. “Dani, don’t. Just wait until your dad gets here, okay? He should be here any minute now,” Alex tries to plead with me. “I have to see,” I insist, pressing the button and turning the handle. I open the cover over the truck’s bed. It takes a few moments for my eyes to adjust in the darkness, and I can’t make out anything in particular because my car’s headlights aren’t illuminating the inside. As I lean in closer, I see a shape lying in the middle of the bed. I turn on my phone’s flashlight and point it into the back of the truck. Alex lets out a blood-curdling scream before I can fully comprehend what I’m seeing. The

393/494

only thing I know for sure is that a body lies there, but it’s not Kevin. “Janice?” My heart constricts when I recognize the muddied white dress as my Bride of Frankenstein costume. I’m screaming on the inside, but I feel paralyzed. I stare at her lifeless body with tears filling my eyes. “Janice!” I finally release the scream I was holding in. I fall to my knees in a fit of crying. I thought I had tapped out my tear ducts over the past few days, but I was so wrong. I see through my tear-distorted vision the lights from my dad’s cruiser as he pulls up. “Dani, Alex, are you two all right?” he asks, rushing over to us. I hear Alex’s shaky reply of, “No,” but I can’t assemble any words right now. I feel his hands clasp my arms as he pulls me to my feet. “Dani, snap out of it. What’s happened?” I point to the open bed of the truck and whisper, “We found…Janice.”

394/494

“What?” He steps past me and peers into the back of the vehicle. Brushing his hair back with his hand, he stands there analyzing the scene. He brings the radio attached to his shirt pocket up to his mouth and releases a sigh before pressing the button to talk. “Dispatch, come in. I hear a crackled sound, “Copy Dispatch. Go ahead, Sheriff.” His pained gaze meets mine as he responds, “I’m going to need backup out here on Edgemount Road. I’ve found the Oliver girl.”

Chapter Twenty Nine I spin the Styrofoam cup in my hand and watch the coffee swirl at the bottom. It mimics how I’m feeling as I sit in my dad’s office at the station. The harsh fluorescent lights overhead hurt my eyes, so I keep my focus on the cup. I feel emotionally numb at the moment, and I don’t think the fact that I saw Janice’s lifeless body has truly sunk in. I can’t believe she’s dead, and now Kevin’s missing too. What’s next? My turn for questioning is coming up after they finish with Alex. I never should’ve dragged her into this. I wonder how she’s doing over in the next room. Unfortunately, I can’t eavesdrop, since the walls of the building seem to be thick and don’t allow for a lot of noise travel. Resting my head against the cool surface of the wall, I briefly shut my eyes. I try to think back to everything that’s happened tonight, but it all seems to have blurred together into one big

396/494

mass of confusion. I don’t even know if I’ll be useful for questioning at this point. I reach for my phone, but remember it was confiscated when I claimed to have received texts from Unknown again. My dad wasn’t too happy to hear the same old song and dance from me. Hopefully Alex is telling them about all the messages. Through the large glass windows that look out from the office into the rest of the station, I spot Hattie Oliver talking to one of the deputies at his desk. When she begins to cry into her hands, I have to look away. No matter how much I don’t like the woman, no one should ever go through what she is right now. The door to the office swings open, drawing my attention to it. My father and his head deputy, Samson, walk in. My dad takes a seat behind his desk and Samson posts up next to the door after it’s closed, like he always seems to do. “I know this is going to be hard for you, but we have some questions that need answering.”

397/494

“Where’s Alex?” “We sent her home since it was clear she had nothing to do with this,” he replies calmly. “So, what you’re saying is you think I do.” “That’s not what I’m saying at all. I just have some questions for my daughter.” “Well, I have a question of my own that I feel I keep repeating.” “Okay, what is it?” he asks, leaning forward on his desk and propping himself up on his elbows. I exhale and look him directly in the eyes. “Do you believe me?” I can tell from his lack of response that he’s still unsure. There’s a sense of hesitation, and wherever there’s hesitation, there’s doubt. “If you’re referring to the messages from an unknown number on your phone, there were none,” he replies, pulling it from his pocket and laying it down on the desk. I’m really not surprised to hear him say that.

398/494

“They may not be on my phone, but Alex was there when I got them. Didn’t she tell you that?” “Yeah, she said you got a few texts, but she also said you read them to her. She never physically saw them herself,” he explains, dragging his hands up and down his face in a show of exhaustion. “What about Janice? What about Kevin’s truck?” He releases a heavy breath before he speaks. “At the moment, we’re looking into Janice’s cause of death. We just put a warrant out for Kevin Donnelley. We’ll catch him soon. Don’t worry.” “Don’t you get it? Kevin didn’t do this. I’m telling you the truth. It was this Unknown bastard who did it. He has Kevin. I got a message about it earlier,” I explain, battling my irritation. I want to slap my dad across the face in hopes that he’ll actually listen to me. “Now, you listen to me. I getting really fed up with—”

399/494

“You’re getting fed up? You’re getting fed up? Christ, Dad. I’ve been fed up this whole time! Call Parker Reed. His number’s in my phone. He’ll tell you I’m right.” The moment I mention his name, I regret it. My father clenches his jaw so tight that I expect him to come away with some broken teeth when he opens it to talk. “Samson, get Mr. Reed on the phone,” he orders, handing Samson my cell. There’s an uncomfortable silence that falls between my dad and me until Samson re-enters the office. “It went straight to voicemail both times I tried, sir,” Samson says, handing the phone back to my dad. “Well, it looks like we’ll be making a quick trip over to Blackburn University tonight,” he murmurs while rising from his chair.

400/494

My dad’s thunderous knock on Parker’s door echoes loudly throughout the empty hallway. I hear some shuffling around on the other side of it, but no one answers. He knocks again and I’m surprised to see who’s standing there when it cracks open. “Parker, some officers are at your door,” Sarah announces back into the room. Her stare homes in on me and I see the shock register on her face. The next voice I hear is Parker’s coming from behind the door. “Sarah, I told you I’d get the—” He goes speechless the moment our eyes collide after he opens the door the rest of the way. “Dani?” The instant my name leaves his lips, I want to storm off. A scream bubbles up in my throat, but I swallow hard, trying to show some restraint. I seriously can’t believe that after what just happened between us, he’d go running back to his ex. My head and heart ache with all of the emotions running through them.

401/494

“Actually, it’s me who’s here to talk with you, Mr. Reed,” my dad says, causing Parker to switch his focus over to him. “What’s this about?” Parker asks, panning back over to me with a knowing glance. I’m sure he realizes this is about Unknown. “May we come in?” my father asks, removing his sheriff’s hat. Parker moves to the side and allows us to enter his dorm room. When I pass by him, he puts his hand on my shoulder, but I shrug it off. I hear him whisper, “This isn’t what it looks like, I promise. She just came over to talk.” For some stupid reason, I think I believe him. “I should probably get going,” Sarah says, collecting her jacket that’s draped over the back of the couch. You shouldn’t have come in the first place, I think. Sarah leaves without even saying goodbye to Parker, so maybe he really is telling the truth. They didn’t seem romantic or anything, and she

402/494

reeked of shame, but not in the cheating kind of way. The empathetic look she gave me just before she left might’ve been a hint that nothing really happened between them. “My daughter claims you can vouch for her testimony about an unknown assailant,” my dad states matter-of-factly, sounding annoyingly by the book. I dodge Parker’s gaze when he looks over at me for support. He lets out a small laugh while shaking his head. “What she says is true, and you’re probably wondering how I know this,” he says. I look in his direction, fearing what will happen if he goes any further with that statement. “This Unknown person used our relationship against us.” “Your relationship?” my father asks, and I see the sparks igniting within his eyes. I become more worried when I notice his hands ball up into fists by his side. I see the veins pop to the surface.

403/494

Parker takes in a deep breath after seeing my dad’s reaction. “I really like your daughter, sir. Have for quite some time now. And truthfully, it may be more than ‘like.’ That’s why I wouldn’t lie to you about this, or us. What happens to her really matters to me.” He smiles in my direction. Okay, so it wasn’t the “L” word I’ve been hoping for, but that doesn’t mean I’m not happy to hear him confess his feelings to my father. My dad’s eyes move to rest on the twin bed in the corner of the room. Then my heart sinks when he looks at me. “Is this the guy whose bed you woke up in after the party?” he asks through clenched teeth. My surprised eyes dart from my father’s over to Parker’s, and worry sets in. I fear my father’s about to lose it. “Yeah, I’m the guy,” Parker pipes up, drawing my father’s attention to him like a shark to blood. My dad rears back and throws a punch right at Parker’s face. The sound of his fist connecting

404/494

with Parker’s jaw causes me to flinch, and I instantly feel guilty. Parker whips his head back around to face my father, seeming unfazed by the hit. He wipes the blood from the corner of his mouth, all the while still staring back at my dad. “Dad!” I yell at him from behind my cupped hand. He storms out of the room with Samson right behind him. “We’re leaving, Dani,” he calls out to me from the doorway, implying that I should follow. I stand there looking at Parker, not really knowing what to do or say. I move in front of him, his eyes never leaving mine. Reaching up, I wipe away the little trickle of blood running down his chin, which I feel completely responsible for. “I’m so sorry. That’s so unlike him,” I whisper, causing a smirk to sprout on Parker’s face. “I want you to know I meant everything I said,” he replies as his smirk changes into a fullblown smile.

405/494

“I know you do, but I’m not sure how faithful you can be to me, even with having those feelings. You’re too much of a gamble, Parker. It pains me to say that, but it’s how I feel,” I explain and kiss him on the cheek. He tries to turn it into more, but I pull away. “I better get going.” He exhales heavily. “Yeah, maybe you should.” As I reach the open door, I turn back around and see Parker’s gaze on me. It breaks my heart to leave him like this, but maybe our perfect opportunity to be together was ruined the moment he left the first time.

Chapter Thirty By Monday morning, I’ve been awake for almost two full days. I find that every time I close my eyes in an attempt to sleep, all I see is Janice’s body, causing me to wake up. My eyes are heavy and strained as I stare out my window at the early morning rain falling outside. Not only haven’t I slept, but eating is becoming an issue as well. I can’t keep anything down. My system is totally out of whack, and the tremendous stress I’m under definitely isn’t helping. My dad and his deputies are still searching for Kevin, but I know they won’t find him until Unknown wants him found. I’ve completely given up on convincing my father to listen to me. Even after he talked with Parker, things didn’t get any better. In fact, things managed to get worse, which could be directly related to my stubbornness over the whole Parker situation.

407/494

I groan as I stare down at the cheap little flip phone my dad gave me to use from here on out. It’s an old deputy phone that has a tracking chip in it and can only perform the basic functions. He’s the only one who has the number. My other phone is stuffed in a plastic bag somewhere at the station. They’re holding onto it to see if they can find any trace of the evidence Parker backed up with his statement. I don’t even want to get dressed for school today. The fact that I haven’t picked out my clothes to wear echoes that sentiment. I find it funny that Dad thinks I’ll be safe at school. A knock at the door ushers in my father. “Dani, you better hurry up or you’ll be late.” “I’m not going,” I reply, still gazing out my window at the puddles of rain forming in the yard. I’m still pissed at him for cheap-shotting Parker. I know he feels it was justified, but I don’t think it was. He did apologize to me, but I wasn’t the one who deserved that apology.

408/494

“Why do you have to make everything so difficult? Being at school will be good for you. It will keep your mind occupied until all of this blows over.” I laugh hollowly. “You have no idea what’s good for me. Do you realize this will be the first day I won’t see Mr. Whitman at school? And that’s just the first thing on a list of shitty things that I’ll experience if I go.” “I’m sorry about that, but you can’t hide from your problems, Dani. They have ways of coming back to bite you in the ass,” he replies, which only makes me turn and glare at him. “I guess I learned from the best, huh?” He doesn’t appear to have some snappy comeback. He just stands there looking at me. Eventually, he says, “Come on…get dressed. You need to get going.” Then he shuts the door before I can argue.

409/494

This is the moment I’ve been dreading all day. I stand in front of Mr. Whitman’s office and stare at the nameplate resting in a little metal frame on the door. Running my fingers across the embossed letters, my chin begins to tremble and an ache pulses within my chest. I didn’t go to my independent study this morning for obvious reasons, so this is the first time I’ve been in front of this door all day. I had a meeting with the principal earlier about the state of the newspaper. He’s decided to put the whole project on hiatus for the time being until he can find a replacement for Mr. Whitman. When I asked what would happen to Parker, he mentioned that he had already dropped out of the program. I wasn’t really surprised by his answer. It was really a relief. Now I wouldn’t have to worry about bumping into him today. I reach out to grab the door handle and shiver when the cool metal touches my skin. Turning it, I pull the door open and stand there at the threshold, scanning the familiar space. The first

410/494

step inside is the hardest. I slowly make my way over to his desk and run my fingers across the smooth, cherry oak wood finish, remembering all the laughs and discussions Mr. Whitman and I shared during my independent study. I was lucky to have a teacher like him in my life. He had believed in me and in my writing so much. The moment I get misty-eyed, I sit down in one of the two chairs in front of the desk. For a moment, I pretend he’s sitting in his chair, leaning back with his hands resting on his chest, letting out a jolly chuckle. Somehow, I manage to smile through the tears. “Dani?” a familiar male’s voice asks behind me. Sitting up and turning around, I see Parker standing there in the doorway. “Hi.” “Sorry, I saw the door was open and—” “What are you doing here, Parker?” I interrupt. He sighs. “I had a few things I needed to return to the newspaper office.”

411/494

“Oh.” “Hey, about what happened the other night, I—” I cut him off again. “Just stop. I don’t want anything to ruin this moment, okay? I’m finally dealing with some things, and I need some space.” Before he has a chance to reply, a melodic chime fills the room. It definitely isn’t my phone. Parker groans while removing his cell from his pants pocket. The expression he sends my way after looking at the screen fills me with concern. “What is it?” “A message from an unknown number,” he replies, moving closer to show me. I take the phone from his hand. “What? Why is he sending you a message?” “I don’t know.” I focus on the phone and read the text out loud. “You might want to check dearly departed Mr. Whitman’s top left desk drawer.”

412/494

The moment I finish reading the message, Parker moves over to the left drawer. “Should I open it?” he asks with reluctance. “No. It’s just another mind fuck courtesy of Unknown. And frankly, I’m over it.” I place his phone on top of the desk and slide it over to him. The phone chimes again as it sits in the middle of the desk. Parker reaches out and snatches it up, bringing it in front of his face. “The text says that I really should open the drawer,” he says and flashes me a look of worry. “How the hell does this guy know what we’re doing?” “I’ve stopped trying to figure that out,” I respond in a defeated tone. “You better open the drawer. He only becomes more persistent if you ignore him.” I watch as Parker slowly pulls open the drawer. A look of confusion appears on his face. “Well, what’s in there?” He draws out a manila folder and holds it up for me to see. “It’s full of undeveloped photos.

413/494

Shit, the light,” he says, snapping the folder closed. “Light ruins undeveloped pictures.” “I think that’s only sunlight,” I comment. “Oh, right.” “Either way, I think we need to get those developed.” “I thought you said you were over Unknown,” he quips while moving around to the front of the desk. “So I’m fickle. Sue me,” I reply, taking the folder from his hands. “Doesn’t Phoebe know how to do this whole process?” It’s like an epiphany hits him. “Yeah, she does. And she told me she’d be in the darkroom for a little while after school.” “I don’t like how so coincidental this all is right now.” “You’re right. It does seem off. But don’t you want to know what’s in these pictures? They could give us answers,” he says, tapping on the folder.

414/494

“This asshole is really not one for giving answers—just more puzzles.” “Well, there’s only one way to find out, right?” “Can’t you see he’s just fucking with us? Nothing good will come of this, I can promise you,” I reply in a harsh whisper, shoving the folder into his hands. “What else are you going to do? It’s obvious we can’t run from this, and doing nothing will only end up getting someone else hurt. We have to play along if we want any chance of catching this bastard,” Parker argues. I see the fear in his eyes, but I can also tell it’s giving him strength. “I know things are really fucked up between us right now, but I told you we’re in this together, no matter what.” He holds out the folder like a handshake, waiting for an agreement. I take the folder from him and a nervous smile shows on his mouth. “Okay, let’s play.”

415/494

We move down the hall and through the double doors at the end of it, leading into the next section of the building. Rounding the corner into the right hallway, I see Phoebe standing outside the production lab, locking up. “Phoebe, we need your help,” I call out while running up to her. She freezes and stops turning the key in the doorknob when she looks over at us in confusion. “Okay…what do you need my help with, exactly?” “We have some pictures that need to be developed,” Parker interjects over my shoulder. “Can’t this wait ’til tomorrow? I’m kind of nauseous from the fumes in there,” she replies, finishing locking the door. “This is very important, Phoebe. It can’t wait,” I insist. She sends both of us a suspicious look. “What’s this all about?”

416/494

Parker places his hand on her shoulder. “We’ll explain later, okay? But now we need to get these developed.” Phoebe looks dubiously at both of us again, but then turns the key that’s still in the door, opening it. “All right, follow me. Dark room is in the back,” she says, moving into the room. When we enter the dark room, Phoebe flips a switch, bathing everything in deep red light. “So, where are these pictures of yours?” she asks after Parker shuts us in the small room. I hand the folder over to her and she begins removing them one by one. She lays them out on the table behind her in the empty space next to a few trays full of liquid. She snaps on a pair of rubber gloves and places safety glasses over her eyes. She picks up the first photo, but then stops. Turning to look at us, she says, “Before I go through with this, I’d like a little more explanation on why these pictures are so important.”

417/494

“Phoebe, just trust us when we say it’s important,” I reply. “So, let me get this straight. You have no idea what’s on these, yet they’re important?” she asks. “Yes,” Parker and I say. “Okay, okay. I get it. It’s important. I’ll get on it,” she replies with a slight laugh.

Chapter Thirty One I watch as Phoebe starts the developing process. Laying the picture in the first tray, she moves it around, causing the photo to slide about in the solution. After a few moments, she removes it with a pair of tongs and places it in the next tray. The image gradually begins to appear as she jostles the tray back and forth, making the picture swish around in the liquid. The anticipation is killing me. “Is that an arm?” I ask when Phoebe pulls out the picture with the tongs. “Yeah, I think so,” she answers, tilting her head while studying it. She attaches it to the line with a clothespin, letting it drip-dry. “Where did you say you got these pictures?” “We didn’t,” Parker responds, saving me the hassle of trying to make something up. “Believe me, the less you know, the better.”

419/494

“All right, what’s that supposed to mean? Are you guys in trouble or something?” “It’s complicated, and like Parker said, it’s better you don’t know, okay? You probably wouldn’t believe us if we told you, anyway,” I explain while handing her the next photo. She takes the picture and tosses it into the solution before saying, “Try me.” Parker and I look at each other and he nods. It’s probably for the best that we tell her. Phoebe can be pretty persistent. “Okay…condensed version. There’s someone killing people in our town and they’re using me, and now Parker, as pawns. Those pictures you have are a part of this whole effed-up scenario,” I say, and then realize how ridiculous it must sound. I can tell it’s taking a few seconds for it to sink in, but when it registers with her, it registers hard.

420/494

“Wait, what? You’ve got to be kidding me. Is this some kind of Halloween prank or something?” “No, she’s telling the truth. Gunnar, Mr. Whitman, Janice—all murdered and not accidents,” Parker interjects. Her eyes are huge. “You’re not joking, are you? And this killer is still out there stalking you? And then you came to me? Holy shit.” “And this is why we didn’t want to tell you. We really need to see what else is on those pictures.” She draws in a deep breath, probably to calm her nerves, before she turns to face the tray again. “Congratulations. You two have successfully freaked me out.” I see her hand shaking as she moves the picture over to the next tray. The moment I turn to talk with Parker, Phoebe whimpers behind me. “Oh my God! It’s a guy’s head. It’s Kevin’s head. The picture is of Kevin’s fucking head!” she shouts, bending down toward the ground while taking in a few deep breaths.

421/494

I rush over to look at the photo. A gasp escapes my mouth before I can cover it with my hand. Staring back at me from the tray is a picture of Kevin from the neck up with his eyes closed. “No. Kevin,” I whisper. I feel Parker touch my back and begin to rub side to side. “I’m sorry,” he says, moving his hand up to rest on my shoulder. “I don’t think you need to develop any more pictures, Phoebe. I’m pretty sure we've seen what this psycho wants us to.” “We need to take these to your dad ASAP,” Phoebe chimes in after regaining her composure. She scrambles to collect them all and stuff them back into the folder. A phone’s ping fills the small room. I look down and see the light from Parker’s phone shining through his pocket. My stomach drops at the mere thought of what the message says. He takes the phone from his pocket and reads the message out loud. “Three go in…only two get out.”

422/494

“Who the hell sent that? Are they talking about us?” Phoebe asks in a squeaky voice, rejoining us after collecting the pictures. “We just need to calm down and stick together, okay? It’s three against one,” I say, hoping I sound confident. On the inside, I’m scared senseless. “Isn’t there an exit door down the hall from this room?” Parker asks. “Yeah, I think so,” I answer and make my way to the door. “We should probably hurry.” Both Parker and Phoebe nod. I slowly open the door leading back into the classroom and all is silent. I can tell from looking out the windows that night has fallen. We’re probably the only ones left in the school, outside of a janitor or two and Unknown. I motion for Parker and Phoebe to run ahead of me to the entrance of the classroom. Parker peers out the little window in the door. “It doesn’t look like anyone’s out there. Let’s go,” he states, turning the handle quietly. He

423/494

leads the way to the double doors just to our left. Pushing on the door, he says, “Shit. It’s chained.” “Chained? When do they ever chain the doors?” Phoebe asks, her voice shaking. “Something tells me it wasn’t the janitor who did this.” Parker pushes harder on the door, eating up all the slack in the chain until he’s able to get it open far enough for someone to slip through. “Hey, I should be able to get through this opening. Then when I’m outside, I’ll have better leverage to pull on the door from the other side so you two can get out after me,” he explains. Then he attempts to fit his built frame through the gap between the doors. When he reaches the outside, he jumps to his feet and turns to look at us through the window in the door. My eyes fill with horror when I see someone in a red reaper hoodie come up behind him. Something in the person’s hand glimmers in the light shining from just above the door, and I

424/494

realize it’s a weapon. Its curved blade resembles a scythe, the tool used by the Grim Reaper. “Parker! Behind you!” I scream, followed by Phoebe. I watch on as Unknown plunges the blade into Parker’s side before he can turn around. The look on Parker’s face as it presses up against the glass destroys me. I feel like I was just stabbed right in the heart. “No!” I cry, touching the window where his face is. Phoebe stands next to me, frantically banging on the door with tears in her eyes. As blood dribbles from Parker’s mouth onto the glass, he falls to the ground. He’s replaced by Unknown waving the curved blade in our faces. He taps on the glass two times, slow and methodical, before disappearing from view. Phoebe tries to push open the door to get to her stepbrother, but I have to pull her away. “We have to get out of here, Phoebe,” I tell her, shaking her firmly in order to snap her out of it.

425/494

“But my brother,” she cries, resting her head on my shoulder. “I know it’s hard, but we have to go,” I say through the tears that flow from my eyes. “I’m so scared, Dani,” she sobs. “Me too.” I take out the small POS flip phone my dad gave me and call him. Thankfully he answers almost immediately. “Hello—” “Dad! Come to the school, now! Unknown’s here, and Parker’s been stabbed! Just come—hurry, please!” I yell into the cell, and hang up before he has a chance to reply. I grab Phoebe’s hand and run down the hall, turning the corner to head back toward Mr. Whitman’s office. We both scream when we skid to a halt as we’re confronted by Unknown, blocking our way into the next building. He brings the hand scythe up and shakes it back and forth menacingly.

426/494

Phoebe pulls my arm, dragging me back down the way we came. Instead of turning right, we take the left hallway this time. I hear the running footsteps of Unknown behind us as we hurry toward another set of double doors leading outside. We both shove into them full force, but they’re also locked with a chain. When we hear the footsteps encroaching on us, I grab Phoebe and pull her into the classroom on our right. It’s the biology lab. I scramble over to the oversized metal cabinets near the back of the room and fling the farthest one open. “Get in and be quiet, okay?” She nods and steps in amongst the many jars of specimens on the shelves. I follow her in and ease the door closed behind me. Standing in the cabinet, we both try our hardest to suppress our labored breaths. When we hear the door to the classroom fly open and slam violently against the wall, I have to reach over and cover Phoebe’s mouth to stifle her whimper.

427/494

Our hearts are beating so loudly it seems like they echo inside the cramped space. We both flinch when we hear the doors to the first cabinet being jerked open. I even have to cover my mouth in case a squeak of fear pops out of it. There are only two cabinets left before he gets to ours. As the next set of doors swing open and crash into the cabinet next to us, the loud sound of metal on metal, causes us both to jump. When he opens the next one, a crazy idea pops into my head. I push Phoebe to stand behind me, giving me a little room to move around. I grab a specimen jar from the shelf, then I take in a deep breath when I see the handle on our cabinet start to turn. The moment the doors open, my vision is filled with the bright red color of his mask. He goes to swipe at me with the blade, but I dodge to the side. Releasing a throaty scream, I smash the jar over his head as hard as I can, causing him to stagger backward. Before he has a chance to shake out of it, I kick him right in the balls,

428/494

sending him to his knees. The moment he keels over to the side with an intense groan of pain, I grab Phoebe’s hand and run for the classroom door. We retrace our steps back to the double doors leading to Mr. Whitman’s office, heading to the front of the school. Passing the office, we hurry toward the school receptionist’s desk. When we finally reach the front doors, we push against them. “Shit! These are chained too,” I shout, digging deep down to shove harder, trying to widen the gap between them. “Go, get out of here!” I scream at Phoebe. She ducks down and begins to wriggle out through the space. I suddenly feel the door being pulled from the other side and I look out to see Parker helping me. I hear Phoebe call out his name and relief courses through me. That feeling is quickly pushed aside when I realize I still need to get out.

429/494

“Hurry, Dani. I can’t do this much longer,” Parker yells. His face is pale and I know he’s in pain. Phoebe tries to help by pushing in on the opposite door, but she’s nowhere near as strong as Parker. I squat down and put one leg through the gap, followed by the other one. I grab Phoebe’s hand when she reaches out to me. She tugs on me, making me feel like I’m playing limbo with the chain as I try to maneuver underneath it. Emerging outside, I release a heavy breath and move closer to Parker. I let out an agonizing shriek as I’m suddenly pulled back by my hair toward the door. I flail about, trying to rip out of Unknown’s grip. Phoebe grabs my hands and frantically tries to pull me away from him. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Parker lunge forward and shove the door on Unknown’s arm. A yelp of pain resonates behind me. My hair’s released from his hand. I quickly crawl away from the door and spin around to find he’s gone.

430/494

The flashing lights and sirens of an ambulance and deputies’ vehicles assault our senses as they pull up to the front of the school. I turn to see my dad rushing over to us. As I make it to my feet, I find myself wrapped up in my father’s arms. I begin to cry uncontrollably. “Everything’s okay now, Dani. I’ve got you,” he whispers in my ear as he gently strokes the back of my head. I know he’s wrong, though. After all, Unknown is still out there.

Chapter Thirty Two Phoebe and I watch as they load Parker into the back of the ambulance. She wraps her arm around me and gives me a light squeeze. I rest the side of my head on her shoulder and savor this brief moment of safety. “They’ll allow one of you to ride with him if you want,” my father says, walking over to us. I’m kind of surprised he’s even entertaining the idea of me riding in the ambulance with Parker, especially after he punched him. I turn to look at Phoebe. Before I can tell her that she should go, she pipes up. “You should go. I’m just his stepsister. I think he’ll want you there more, anyway.” “That’s not true. You should be with him,” I reply with a wan smile. She releases a hollow laugh. “Don’t argue with me, okay? Just go.”

432/494

I give her a full-on hug and she completely embraces it. Pulling back, I see the strained smile on her face. “Are you sure you’re okay with this, Dad?” “Well, he did just help save my daughter, so I think he’s redeemed himself,” he replies, ushering me toward the ambulance. I grab the handle at the side of the door leading into the back of the vehicle and climb aboard. “Looks like I’m coming with you,” I say as I take a seat next to Parker’s stretcher. He just smiles at me through the oxygen mask hugging his face. Looking back out the doors, I see my dad still standing there with a worried look. “I’ll see you at the hospital, Dani,” he says just before the paramedic closes up the back. I feel Parker reach for my hand. He interlocks his smooth fingers with mine and I see him smile again through the mask. A tear rolls down my cheek, but I don’t say a word. I just keep gazing down at him, so thankful that we get to have this moment together.

433/494

When we reach the hospital, I don’t even have a chance to say a proper goodbye to Parker. They immediately unload and rush him through the emergency room doors. One of the paramedics stays behind to take me into the waiting room, which is cold and sterile-looking. As I sit down in the chair closest to the entrance, my eyes scan the few people seated in the area. I’m quickly reminded of why I hate hospitals. They’re always filled with heartbreak and worry over loved ones. I find myself counting down the minutes until someone I know shows up to keep me company—either that, or the call to go up and see Parker. I fidget in my seat, unable to sit still. The uncomfortable waiting room chairs probably aren’t helping much in that department. My nerves are shot, and I try to clear my head and not think about anything. This is the worst thing for me right now, being alone with my thoughts. Any one of us could have died tonight, and I

434/494

wonder if Unknown’s pissed off because he didn’t succeed. The picture of Kevin’s head seeps into my mind, and I try to shake it, not wanting to relive how I felt when I saw it in the dark room. I’m not sure I can endure this for much longer. So many people are dying around me—people I care about. Giving into my thoughts, I rest my head in my hands to take advantage of a quiet moment to myself. My hands move to cover my face as I cry. “There you are, Dani.” I hear my father’s voice come from near the entrance. I raise my teary eyes to his and see his concern. He moves to sit next to me, taking me in his arms. “I’m so sorry I didn’t believe you. I’ve completely failed as a father—and a sheriff. I’ve been so stuck on your mom leaving that I ignored the one thing I shouldn’t have,” he says, pushing me back to look at my face. “You.”

435/494

I pull him in for a tighter hug and squeeze as if this is our last chance to do so. “I’ve been waiting for you to say that. You have no idea how much I’ve wanted you to believe me this whole time,” I reply, ugly crying into his sheriff’s jacket. He shushes me while brushing my hair with his fingertips. “I know, Dani. I know you have. And I can’t even begin to tell you how sorry I am. I could’ve lost you tonight—and it would’ve been my fault,” he says, emotion filling his voice. I feel a drop of liquid on my forehead and turn to look into his eyes. They’re watery with tears. He releases me and digs into his pocket. “Before I forget,” he says, “I brought you this. You got a message from an unknown number while I was at the station. We tried to track it back to the sender, but couldn’t. The person must be using an untraceable phone.” He hands it over to me. “We did find some encrypted data and a few of the texts you swore to me that you received. You were right, Dani. They’ve been

436/494

using a phone app to erase the messages. I felt like complete shit when I found out. If I hadn’t had my head up my ass, I might’ve been able to stop all of this sooner.” The simple fact my dad just uttered the words “shit” and “ass” is proof that he’s feeling quite low right now. “I forgive you,” I choke out. He takes in a deep breath and exhales just as heavily. “Thank you.” I turn on the screen to look at my texts. Sure enough, there’s one from Unknown staring back at me when I press the messages icon. It reads: Things are far from over, bitch… “Do you have any idea of who this guy could be?” he asks when he sees my reaction to the text. “No. I have absolutely no idea.” “We’ll catch him, Dani. I promise.” I nod, hoping against hope that he’s right. “Hey, how’s Phoebe doing?” “She’s adjusting. I took her to the station since her parents are gone for the next few days.

437/494

She didn’t want to be home alone right now, which is understandable. Samson should be bringing her around in a little while,” he says with a tired smile. I go quiet for a moment and glance down at the phone in my hand. “Did you find anything at the school that can help you get this guy?” “We found that folder you mentioned, but the pictures were gone,” he explains. “But other than that, no.” “Figures. I’ll give Unknown one thing: he’s pretty damn good at covering his tracks.” “Yeah, that he is,” my dad agrees with a nod of his head. “But criminals tend to slip up. That’s one of our saving graces in law enforcement.” I want to believe him, but find myself tipping over onto the side of doubt. “Do you think they have coffee? I could use a little caffeine kick right about now.” “You and me both,” he says. “I’ll see if I can scrounge up some for us.”

438/494

I lean back in the chair and rest my head on the wall behind me while watching him walk over to the nurse’s desk. After chatting with the nurse for a moment, he turns to me and gives a thumbs up, clearly scoring us some coffee. The emergency room doors slide open, drawing my gaze to them. I see Samson stroll in with Phoebe close behind. She looks like I feel…frazzled and completely out of it. When she sees me, I send her a little wave. She returns it and heads over to sit next to me. “Any news on how he’s doing?” she asks. She fiddles with the latch on her purse, showing her distress. “Not yet. I’d imagine he’s still in surgery.” Phoebe exhales slowly before she speaks. “This is insane, Dani. Things like this aren’t supposed to happen in towns like ours.” I reach over and take her hand. Squeezing gently, I say, “Hey, listen to me. We’re going to make it out of this, okay?” “I hope so,” she replies, but her voice wavers.

439/494

“Got some good news,” my dad announces, approaching us with two cups of coffee in hand. “Is it about Parker?” I ask with a hopeful smile. “Indeed it is. While I was getting our coffee, I bumped into Dr. Davis, the surgeon working on Parker. After his long spout of medical jargon, he finally got to his point. Parker’s going to be fine. Surgery went well, and he’ll be ready for visitors in a few hours,” he explains, and smiles when he sees both of our faces light up. The hours tick by as we wait for any news on when we can visit with Parker. I’ve grown tired of playing Angry Birds on my phone, and have moved on to other forms of distraction, trying hard not to allow any bad thoughts to enter my mind. I’ve probably walked around the emergency room a million times already. “Mr. Reed can have visitors now,” a nurse finally tells us. We hurry over to the double doors leading to the rest of the hospital. “He’s in

440/494

recovery on the second floor. Take the elevator down the hall and to the left.” When we step off the elevator, Phoebe and I follow the signs to the recovery room. Our footsteps echo throughout the hall as we quickly move toward the door at the end of the corridor with the placard above it that reads: Recovery. The door initially blocks our view of Parker when we push it open. Moving into the room, I see him off to my right, propped up in his bed. Monitors beep throughout the small space. I stammer while whispering his name as I see all the tubes running from the IV’s in his arm. His eyes blink open and his trademark grin shows across his face. It’s a little strained, but still as effective as ever. “Aren’t you two sights for sore eyes?” He chuckles, but then winces in pain. Phoebe lets out a worried laugh at his comment, moving over to the bed and placing her hand on his arm. “How’re you holding up?”

441/494

“I’ve been better.” He grins again, rubbing her hand. “I fucking hate hospitals, though,” he adds as he pans over to me. He bows his head in a sexy manner. “Dani?” “Parker,” I reply, a smirk forming. Phoebe bends down and plants a kiss on his forehead before saying, “Well, it looks like you two have some things to discuss. I’ll wait outside. I think I saw a vending machine out there with my name on it.” She giggles, but I can tell she’s exhausted. “You don’t have to go—” I start to say, but Phoebe grabs my hand and leads me over to the door. “Parker told me about you two. It’s fine, really. It’s like that old saying: ‘If you love something, let it go, and if it comes back to you, it was meant to be’…or something like that.” I smile at her and she returns it. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?” I ask, pointing at Parker and then to myself.

442/494

“Do I really have a choice?” she jokes. “Go on, you better not keep him waiting. You know how much of an ass he can be if you do.” As she leaves the room, I peek back around the open door at Parker. He’s grinning at me. Raising his hand in front of him, he points at me and curls his index finger, telling me to come closer. I slowly move around the door and stroll over to the side of the bed. Parker extends his hand for mine with his palm facing upward and just waits for me to take it. I lightly touch the base of his hand and trail my fingers across his palm, ending at his fingertips. His skin is so warm and soft. “You know, I never did thank you for saving me earlier,” I say, moving my fingers down from the tips of his digits to his palm again. “I think you’re doing a great job of that right now,” he replies. His baby blue eyes pierce through mine as he looks up at me. Then he does something I’ve never seen him do before—he smolders at me. I instantly decide that it takes the

443/494

place of his grin as being his most gorgeous weapon. “Dani, I have something I need to tell you.” “Oh? You do, do you?” He lets out a soft chuckle. “Yeah, but you have to promise not to freak out, okay? I’ve got a lot riding on what I’m about to say to you. Seriously, my ego has taken an incredible kick in the balls already tonight, and you freaking out would most certainly finish me off.” I find Parker’s ability to bring humor into any situation a breath of fresh air—even though at times it’s completely uncalled for. Here he is, laid up in a hospital bed after being stabbed, and he’s talking about balls. “I won’t freak out, promise,” I laugh, keeping eye contact with him. He takes a moment and stares at me, a smirk on his face. The next thing I know, he’s taking my hand and drawing in a deep breath. “I just wanted to say...damn, this is a lot harder than I thought it was going to be.”

444/494

I’ve never seen Parker this flustered before. He’s usually so suave and good with words. He takes in another deep breath. “Danielle Marks, I love you.” The words flow from his lips like a melody. “I’m sorry it took me this long to say it, but truthfully, I knew I did even before I left for California. These past couple years have been torture for me. I lost count of how many times I got to the point of just packing up and coming back to you, but then I got in my own way with thoughts of me ruining your future.” I smile widely while bending so my face is close to his. Gently bracing his chin with my other hand, I reply, “I love you too. And for the record, you can only improve my future…not ruin it.” I press my lips to his. He reaches over with his other hand and places it on the back of my neck, putting more into the kiss. Then he groans in pain and I pull away to apologize. He shakes his head. “I didn’t tell you to stop,” he whispers, and brings my face back close

445/494

to his. Our mouths touch with intensity, his tongue sweeping against mine. I hear another groan of pain from him, but he doesn’t stop. His grip hardens on my hand and I can tell he’s in a lot of discomfort. I push him away to lie against the bed. “This is hurting you, literally,” I say, and push him back down when he tries to resist. “I don’t care. I’ve been waiting to tell you—no—show that I love you. I’m not wasting this opportunity just because I have a damn flesh wound.” God, I love this man. “There will be many more moments where you can show me how much you love me. I assure you of that,” I reply, combing back his hair and trailing my hand down his cheek. “Once you’re better, of course.” “I almost died tonight. The only thing that got me through was the thought of you in danger. Plain and simple. I didn’t save you tonight, Dani.

446/494

You saved me,” he states, his breath catching, as another surge of pain hits him. “What about Phoebe?” I ask. “You know what I meant.” I smirk off to the side and pan back over to him. “So, which side is your injury on again?” I ask, pointing back and forth to his left and right sides. He takes my hand and places it on the wounded area on his right. “Why do you want know?” I climb up on the bed, careful not to touch his sensitive spot or unhook any of his IV’s. “Because I want to do this,” I reply, and attack his mouth with mine. His hands clutch my back and pull me forward. I feel every one of his muscles tense up from the ache he’s enduring to kiss me. “This hurts so good,” he speaks around my mouth as our lips continue to entwine with one another. It’s becoming difficult to gauge where his end and mine begin.

447/494

“Please tell me if it gets to be too much, okay?” I say breathily. He pauses and backs his lips away from mine. “Dani, that’d be impossible.” He grabs my ass and thrusts my hips into his. His grip is firm, yet tender at the same time. I smile, imagining us back in his twin bed with nothing on. I’m finding myself longing to be that close to him again, but groan internally when I realize that’s not a possibility right now. “Whoa, you cannot be doing that in here,” someone says behind us. I turn to see a nurse standing there, her eyes wide with surprise. “I do believe visiting hours are over. Besides, I think you’ve given Mr. Reed here enough to dream about tonight that you can be on your way,” she adds with a hearty laugh. “Oh my God—I’m so sorry you saw that,” I say, trying to move off the bed without disturbing anything.

448/494

Parker grabs me when my feet touch down on the ground. He pulls me toward him for one last kiss before I go. “Get better, okay?” I whisper once our lips separate. He grins. “I already am.” The nurse clears her throat behind me and I stiffen. Moving toward the door, I turn around once more to glance at Parker. I wave to him just before the nurse ushers me out.

Chapter Thirty Three “Thanks for letting me sleep over last night,” Phoebe says while packing up her overnight bag. “Well, my Dad and I weren’t about to let you sleep in that house alone after what happened,” I reply, handing her a shirt that fell from the bag. “I’m so not looking forward to going home, but at least there will be a deputy with me.” I can tell she’s scared just by the tone in her voice. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay?” “I’m sure. Besides, there will be a mob of angry trick-or-treaters egging the house if I’m not there to pass out candy. And like I said, there’s always the hottie-tottie deputy to protect me,” she laughs, but it sounds empty. There’s a knock at the door before it’s cracked open. “Everyone decent in there?” my dad calls. “Yeah, come in.”

450/494

He moves into the room. “Are you ready to get going, Phoebe? I’m taking you over to your house and waiting for Deputy Miller to meet us over there.” She nods and drags her bag from the bed. “Wait, who’s staying here with me?” I ask. “Jackson and Samson will be downstairs until I—” “Samson? Really? I hate that guy,” I argue. “Hate is a very strong word, Dani,” he chastises. “Well, I think it fits in this case.” Another knock comes at the door and Samson pushes it all the way open before stepping in. “The whole house is secured, Sheriff. We’ve checked every entry point on the premises. Nobody’s getting in.” I mock him the whole time he’s talking. “I even put a bowl of candy out on the front step so that no one has to come to the door.” “Well, that’s just great. I see you’ve thought of everything,” I say, rolling my eyes. “Hey,

451/494

Dad? Where do you keep those little gold star stickers? I think Samson deserves one on his badge.” “Dani, that’s enough,” my dad says, glaring at me. Samson just gives me a smug smile and turns his attention back to my father. “Good work, Samson. I should be back in a little while. And Dani,” he begins while turning to face me, “Samson is here to protect you. Try to get along, please?” He gives me a kiss on the forehead accompanied by a hug. “All right, fine,” I mutter, sending a scowl to Samson over my dad’s shoulder. As they leave, I give a quick hug to Phoebe and turn my focus to Samson while sitting heavily on the bed. “I believe we’re finished here. Go protect the house,” I order. “Dani, I know we’ve always kind of butted heads over the years, but I want to call a temporary truce,” he announces.

452/494

“I’m listening,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest and waiting for him to continue. “I need you to trust me in order for me to protect you. If we keep up this bickering between us, it could cause complications. I know you don’t like me, but you don’t have to for me to protect you. You just need to trust me.” Are my ears deceiving me? Is this Samson actually acting like a human being for once? I’ve never seen this side to him before. Actually, I never thought he had this in him. I rise from my bed and walk over to him. Extending my hand, I say, “Truce.” He smiles as he shakes my hand. “But after all this is over, the bickering will resume, got it?” He laughs. “Understood.”

I’ve been cooped up in my room for two hours now. My phone sits on the desk while I snuggle up with my pillows on the bed. I’m anticipating any minute that it will notify me of the

453/494

next step in Unknown’s plan. He did say it wasn’t over, after all. The house is quiet except for the periodic shuffling I hear downstairs. I begin to wonder where my father is. Phoebe only lives about five minutes away, and it shouldn’t have taken Miller this long to get to her house to relieve my dad of his duties. I decide to go ask one of the boys downstairs if they’ve heard from him. I pull myself from the bed and put on my slippers. Opening the door, I make my way over to the banister and look out over it into the foyer. “Hey, Samson? Have you heard from my dad yet?” I ask, but get no response. My voice echoes through the house, giving me the chills. “Hey, Samson?” When there’s still no answer, I run back into my bedroom and grab the butcher knife I put under the mattress. I take my cell from the desk and dial my dad’s phone. It doesn’t ring. It just goes straight to voicemail. Dammit. I try again with

454/494

the same result. Before I even have a chance to call Phoebe, the phone vibrates in my hand. Buzz…Buzz… I lay it back on the desk when I see a text from Unknown blinking back at me. I don’t want to look at it, and decide to head for the doorway. Buzz…Buzz… “Damn you,” I murmur when I turn around and move back toward the desk to retrieve the phone. Picking it up, my finger shakes visibly when it swipes to unlock the screen. There are two texts: Everything has come full circle, and now we’ve reached your end. Are you ready, Dani? At this point I don’t even want to read the next message. I’m absolutely terrified, but I scroll down a bit to see the rest: I have someone who wants to talk to you. There’s a picture attached to the message. Pressing on it, I gasp. It’s a picture of Phoebe…teary-eyed, bloodied, tied up, and

455/494

gagged. Another text comes through and I scroll down. To save her, you have to find us. Need a hint? Before I can respond, the walkie-talkie chirps on my desk with a static sound. I look over at it in complete shock before panning my focus to the bedroom window. “They’re in Janice’s room.” I rush through the open bedroom door to the stairs. I stop abruptly and gaze down the steps, making sure the coast is clear before I go blazing down them. “Samson?” I call out again. When there’s still no response, I mutter, “Shit.” With the knife in hand and at the ready, I cautiously take one step at a time until I reach the bottom. Pressing my back against the wall leading into the kitchen, I take in a deep breath. I look down and panic when I see a small trickle of red liquid on the floor just outside the kitchen. “Is that blood?” I whisper to myself.

456/494

Cautiously scooting around the corner, I come face to face with a scene right out of a horror film. Red fills my vision as a scream rips from my vocal chords. Blood is smeared across the floor leading up to the kitchen table. The bodies of Samson and Jackson sit in the two chairs at the table. The sick bastard actually posed them as if they were sitting there having a conversation over a cup of coffee or something. Blood drips from the wounds around their necks, pooling at their feet. I cover my mouth to stifle my cries. I avert my eyes when it becomes too much for me to take. When the phone vibrates in my hand, I want to chuck it across the room. Looks like Samson won’t be a pain in your ass anymore. Sorry, I may have gotten a little carried away. Rage consumes me the moment I finish reading the text. I’ve never been as angry or scared as I am at this moment.

457/494

Testing my will, I force my gaze back over to Samson and Jackson. Through all the carnage, my attention focuses on the gun resting in the holster on Samson’s hip. I glance at the knife in my hand and drop it to the floor when I look back at the gun. I move to Samson’s side, trying to avoid stepping in the trail of blood leading to his body. I can’t look him in the face. The deep guilt I feel would only get worse. Unlatching his holster, I remove the gun. Its cold steel feels heavy in my hand. I’ve held several guns before, and my dad has taught me how to fire one, but this time feels much different. I’m actually intending to use this one for protection, and that feeling scares me to death. As I walk away, I whisper, “Sorry” to the two men who lost their lives for no reason. Sliding back the top of the gun’s barrel, I hear it snap back, loading a bullet from the magazine into the chamber. I notice the safety is on, and proceed to flip it off before tucking the gun into

458/494

the back of my jeans. I pull my shirt down to cover it. There’s been a lot of senseless killing lately, and someone needs to put a stop to it. I’m tired of being the helpless victim in this scenario. This ends tonight.

Chapter Thirty Four I kick off my slippers and put on the pair of red Chucks resting next to the front door. After hearing a few trick-or-treaters outside ransacking the bowl of candy, I decide to wait until they leave before I go out. When the coast is clear, I open the door and step onto the front porch. I slowly maneuver down the gravel path in front of our house, my eyes never leaving Janice’s window. I draw out my cell and dial Parker’s hospital room, which I saved in my contacts earlier. I want to hear his voice one more time and tell him how I feel, just in case this is the last chance I get. My heart squeezes when I hear his strained hello. “Parker? It’s Dani.” “Hey, how are you?” he asks, and I wish I was able to continue with the small talk instead of saying what I have to tell him.

460/494

“Unknown has Phoebe tied up in Janice’s house, and I’m going to get her.” “What? No! Dani, don’t do anything stupid, please.” The desperation in his voice tears at my heart. “I have to, Parker.” When he tries to argue again, I simply say, “I love you,” and hang up. I try my dad’s phone again, but it still rolls to voicemail. Disconnecting, I stuff the phone in my pocket. The thought of this possibly being the night I’m going to die enters my mind the closer I get to Janice’s house. I know I’m walking right into a trap, but there are really no alternatives. I have to do this. There’s no turning back now. Making my way around the hedgerow that separates our houses, I run my fingers along the top of its abrasive leaves. I come to a sudden stop when I reach the beginning of the driveway. Hattie’s car is parked there. I fear the worst has happened to her. Taking a few deep, calming breaths, I move forward. I find myself counting the steps it takes

461/494

to reach the front door, trying to distract my nerves. I feel for the gun in the back of my pants, just to make sure it’s still there. The touch of the cold metal gives me a small sense of comfort. Peering in through the little window on the front door, I can’t make out anything. It’s too dark. I take a hold of the handle and try to turn it, but it’s locked. Moving around to the side of the house by way of the wraparound porch, I stop at the door leading into the kitchen. Testing the knob, it turns, and I quietly open it. I step over the threshold and tiptoe a few feet into the kitchen, all the while staying aware of my surroundings. The house is quiet and everything is still. I pull out the gun and hold it stiffly in my right hand, cupping my left one underneath it for stability. Feeling fortified, I head toward the foyer of the house and the main staircase. I have to restrain my gasp when I see Hattie lying at the bottom of the stairs. Her body is twisted in an awkward position.

462/494

I rush over to her side as quietly as I can and feel for a pulse. I pull back when I discover her skin is ice-cold. There’s no doubt in my mind that she’s dead. I aim the gun up the stairs before I take my first step. I try to tread softly on the old wood so as to not make them creak under the pressure. Reaching the second floor, I post up in the corner of the wall adjacent to the stairs. Janice’s room is across the hall. I notice the door is propped wide open. There’s a lamp on in the room, casting the space in the soft glow of its dim light. My heartbeat quickens as I take a step toward her room. Passing the open door that leads into the bathroom, I quickly point the gun through the doorway while scanning the area inside. When I see no one, I continue moving to Janice’s room. I draw in a deep, quiet breath when I feel my lungs start to burn from holding one in. Creeping forward, I enter the room and see Phoebe by the window. Her back is to me and she’s tied to a chair. Her body is limp, seeming like it’s only

463/494

being held upright by the rope around her midsection. A shiver of worry runs through me when I fear she might already be gone. Before I check on her, I do a quick visual sweep of the room with my gun in ready position. Seeing no sign of Unknown, I quickly turn to shut the door. I shriek when I unexpectedly come face to face with the red reaper mask. The moment I raise the gun, he grabs my hands and forces me to point it into the air. It goes off and a shower of white dust from the ceiling rains down on us. He grabs my wrist and twists it back, causing the gun to fall to the ground as I cry out in pain. His fist connects with my chin. I stagger backward, crashing into the bed. Before I can react, he tackles me. He straddles me as I try to struggle free from the chokehold he has on my neck. I pound on his chest in a frantic manner, fighting to take in air. Grabbing his hands, I attempt to pull them from around my neck, but

464/494

can’t. His grip gets tighter as he shakes me back and forth. I reach wildly around for anything to hit him with. My hand connects with something and I’m not even sure what it is, I just grab it. Thrusting it toward his head, I see that it’s an alarm clock. As it connects with the side of his face, he groans in pain and his grasp loosens. But he doesn’t let go. I swing again with more force, causing him to fall off the front of the bed onto the ground. I sit up and scan the floor for the gun. Spotting it, I lunge for it and snatch it up. I leap to my feet and turn, aiming the gun right at the area Unknown landed on the floor. He stands up and stops, staring at me. I watch him clutch his hands to his side, looking like he’s about to rush me. I pull the trigger, but no bullet fires. I rapidly click the top of the barrel back when he moves toward me. I scream as I pull the trigger again, bracing for his impact. A loud bang deafens me. Unknown stops in front of me, bringing his hand

465/494

up to the bullet hole in his shoulder. He turns his focus back to me and starts to lurch forward. I pull the trigger again and slug a bullet right through his chest, sending him falling to the ground. I release a huge, shaky breath. Slumping against the wall, I try to regain my composure. “It’s over,” I say. “It’s finally over.” Unknown lies motionless on the floor. I kick his boot just to make sure he won’t move. When he doesn’t, I kick it again, making absolutely sure. I have to find out who’s under the mask. I reach down to pull it up, then pause and move back. Hesitation comes over me and I aim the gun to his chest. I’m not taking any chances. Firing another shot, I see his body twitch from the force of the bullet. I bend down to remove his mask. Pushing it back with the barrel of the gun, I’m shocked to see who’s underneath.

466/494

“Kevin?” Anger and sorrow hit me all at once. I kneel down next to him and pound on his chest. “Why?” I scream. I feel so betrayed…so stupid. A moan from the chair next to me draws my attention to Phoebe. Her head rises up, and she begins looking around aimlessly, clearly dazed. As she starts to struggle, I jump to my feet and move closer to her. She looks so happy to see me. I slowly remove the tape from her mouth so she can speak. “Dani!” she cries out the moment the tape is removed. “I’m here, Phoebe. I’ve got you. Have you seen my father?” She shakes her head. “I don’t remember much. I feel drugged or something.” She pauses for a second, then seems to become hyperaware. “Where is he?” “He’s dead. Unknown’s dead,” I reply, starting to untie her. “It was Kevin.”

467/494

“Kevin? No. No way. That doesn’t make any sense.” “Look,” I say, pointing to Kevin’s body after loosening the final knot in the rope. “Oh my God! It was Kevin,” she says, covering her mouth in surprise. A thud sounds from the closet on the opposite side of the room. “What was that?” I ask, standing up quickly. “Let’s just get out of here, please?” “Yeah, let’s go,” I respond, turning my attention to her. The thud sounds again and I spin around to look at the closet door. When I go to move toward it, Phoebe grabs my hand. “Don’t. Let’s just go, okay?” “But something’s in there. There’s no more danger. Unknown’s gone,” I point out, shaking free of her hand. Even with the killer’s body there on the ground, I still approach the closet with some apprehension. Turning the handle, I pull it open.

468/494

“Dad!” I shout when I see him propped up in the closet, bound and gagged. His eyes meet mine and they widen with shock. He tries to say something, but it sounds muffled behind the tape over his mouth. “You should’ve listened to me,” Phoebe says behind me. “What?” “I told you not to look in the closet,” she replies. As I turn to face her, pain blasts through the side of my head. My vision blurs and I stagger into the open closet door, trying to brace myself in order to keep upright. I fall to the ground, fading in and out of consciousness until there’s nothing around me but darkness.

Chapter Thirty Five I try to open my eyes and survey my surroundings, but all I see are fuzzy slivers. A feeling of dizziness washes over me and my head begins to throb. A sharp pain resonates from my left temple and I moan, still trying to open my eyes. My eyelids feel so heavy. All I can hear is my breathing mixed with a high-pitched ringing in my ears. I attempt to open my eyes again. When I succeed, I find it hard to focus on any one thing. It’s all blurring together. My body feels restricted, and my range of motion is limited. My arms are pulled behind me, tied together at the wrists. The rope scratches and burns my skin as I try to move. “Oh, you’re awake?” The voice fades in and out. My head slumps back as the dizziness intensifies. The room seems like it’s spinning while I’m sitting still. I try to speak, but my lips are

470/494

forced together by something covering my mouth. It feels sticky to my lips. “Daaaaani…Daaaaaani.” I hear the voice again and feel a sharp pain in my neck and scalp as my hair is grabbed and pulled forward. “Dani!” My eyes shoot open. Although everything is still hazy, I can make out a face right in front of mine. “There you are.” The voice sounds calming, yet menacing at the same time. I focus and the person’s face comes perfectly into view. Anger surges through me when I’m met with Phoebe’s evil grin. I struggle against my confinements, wanting to rip her to shreds for what she’s done. I say a few choice words, but they’re muffled behind the tape. She laughs. “What’s that you say? You can’t talk? Well, that’s kind of the point. To be honest, hearing your voice feels like someone’s jabbing syringes into my ears,” she says, tapping my cheek with the scythe in her hand.

471/494

She traces my chin with the tip of the blade, and I feel her dig it into the tape over my mouth. “Besides, I already know what you’re going to ask me.” She clears her throat. “Why, Phoebe, why?” she whines mockingly before bringing the scythe up to the tip of my nose. “First of all, motives are so two thousand and late. And second,” she begins and moves her mouth close to my ear, “I’m fucking psychotic.” I just glare at her. “Well, shit. This isn’t as fun without you yelling at me for what I’ve done to you,” she comments, caressing her cheek with the curved edge of the blade. I scream as she rips the tape from my mouth. I hang my head, weighed down by the pain, and try to suppress the sting on my lips by tucking them into my mouth and wetting them. When the soreness subsides, I whip my head up and glare at her again. “Why did you—”

472/494

“Uh, uh, uh. I’ve already told you why,” she says interrupting me, pressing the blade to my lips. I struggle to talk around the curved blade. “I don’t believe you. There has to be a reason!” “Fine! You want a reason? Here it is. You’re a brother-stealing, friend-abandoning,” she says pointing at Kevin’s body, “cock-teasing, heartbreaking whore of whores!” “That’s your reason? That’s the reason you killed all those people? Just because of how you felt about me?” She takes a moment, her expression getting angrier the longer she stalls. “You fucking took the only man I ever loved away from me and sent him packing to California!” “Parker? But he’s your brother,” I reply, disgusted. Phoebe leans in close to my ear and yells, “Stepbrother! He’s my stepbrother.” I flinch at the high-pitched squeal of her voice. She backs away and glances at Kevin’s body on the floor

473/494

and pans back to me. “Oh, and just for the record, Kevin did most of the dirty work. I just provided the inspiration,” she replies smugly, gesturing to me. “You’d be surprised how fucked up love can make you. And he had quite the major league hard-on for you, Dani. But then again, you already know that.” “You’re such a bitch!” “Really? Namecalling? That’s a little low, even for you, isn’t it, Dani?” she asks, grabbing me tightly about the chin and mouth with her hand. “Not to mention very stupid, since I’m the one with the knife.” She releases her grip after shoving my head back. “Why’d you kill Janice? She did nothing.” Phoebe giggles, making me waver between fear and fury. “Want to know a secret? Janice was a part of this whole thing. She was our little techie. You can thank her for all the deleted texts, and for tapping into the school’s network, allowing us to showcase your little soft core flick with Parker in the computer lab. I guess all that alone

474/494

time in her room and the library, gave her a lot of opportunities to do research on this new little techno hobby of hers. Unfortunately, that’s when her usefulness ended, and she couldn’t quite cut it anymore. So, we had to do what we had to do.” “You’re a liar! Janice wouldn’t have ever helped you do this.” “Of course she would. Think about it, Dani. Just like the rest of us, you fucked her over royally. Not only were you a reason her mom homeschooled her, but you also drew all the attention of the one and only guy she ever liked—Kevin. It seems like you have a habit of being the little whore. She had a grudge against you, my friend, and once her mom drove her to the breaking point, she was all too eager and willing to fuck you over.” “You won’t get away with this,” I spit out through clenched teeth. “Oh, Dani. Dani, Dani, Dani. You’re such a naïve, stupid bitch, aren’t you? I will get away with this. You see, Kevin will take the fall for

475/494

everything. Just like he was supposed to. Of course, he didn’t know that,” she answers with a sneer. I see my dad stir. He’s lying on the bed and appears to be coming to. “Oh, goodie. Pops is waking up,” Phoebe says, leaping onto his back. He cries out in pain behind taped lips as she grinds her knees into his spine. Jumping back off the bed, she kneels in front of me and smirks. Holding up the scythe and the gun she drew from my father’s holster, she says, “So, which one do you want for dear old Dad? The slow painful death of the blade, or the quick, possibly painless end by the gun?” I don’t answer her. Instead, I rear back and spit in her face. “Scythe it is,” she declares while wiping away the saliva dripping down her face. Raising the blade into the air, she swipes it across my right leg. Excruciating pain surges through my thigh. Tears come to my eyes as

476/494

Phoebe brings the scythe up to my face, smearing the blood across my lips and cheek. Through my waterlogged eyes, I see movement just past Phoebe’s head. I have to fight against showing my awareness of Parker creeping up behind her. He must’ve come straight from the hospital. He’s in his gown with a pair of pants underneath it. Putting his finger to his mouth, he continues to move further into the room. When I turn my eyes back to Phoebe, a questioning look appears on her face. Shit! Did she notice me look behind her? She stands up and spins around. Parker cracks her in the face with his fist. She crumples to the floor with a sickening thud. “For fuck’s sake! It’s my stepsister?” he shouts, panning from her to me. “Yeah. Hurry—grab the gun from her and untie me,” I reply. After collecting the gun, Parker cradles my face with his hand while sending me a strained smile. He looks relieved when he sees I have no

477/494

visible injuries there. His attention shifts to the rope binding my wrists together, and he starts to loosen the knot. When my hands are free, he moves on to the rope around my waist. “Parker, look out!” I shout. Phoebe takes a swipe at him with the scythe. He groans in pain as the blade enters his arm. I see the gun drop from his hand. It lands behind the chair with a clunk. “You always did punch like a bitch,” Phoebe scoffs as Parker backs up to lean against the wall, clutching his wound. She points the blade at me. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten about you, blondie.” With my hands free, I attempt to grab her, but she deftly maneuvers out of my reach. I scramble to untie myself and hear the struggle behind me. I work even faster to get free. When I hear Parker’s aching moans, I turn to look at him. Phoebe’s digging the tip of the blade into the injury on his right side, torturing him. I grab the gun when I’m fully able to move from the chair.

478/494

“Get away from him, you bitch!” I shout, limping to my feet while aiming the gun in her direction. I can’t fire because she’s standing right in front of Parker. If I miss, I could hit him. The ache in my leg is almost too much for me to bear. I’m finding it hard to focus on my aim. Phoebe laughs, taking a hold of Parker and posting up behind him, using his body as a shield. She jabs the scythe deeper into his side to make him cooperate with her. His pained sounds make me flinch. He dwarfs Phoebe as she stays behind him, making a clear shot almost impossible. “You can’t win, Dani. I wrote the fucking rules myself,” she taunts. I pull back the top of the barrel, loading a bullet from the clip into the gun, and stabilize it with my left hand. An insane idea enters my mind. I’m scared to do it, but it might be my only choice to save Parker. “I’m sorry, Parker.”

479/494

“Do what you have you do,” he replies through clenched teeth. Phoebe’s eyes grow wide, peeking over Parker’s shoulder. I point the gun at his left arm and pull the trigger. He yells out in pain before dropping to one knee. I pull the top of the barrel once more and point the gun at Phoebe. I try to ignore the pain surging through my leg as I steady my aim. With her directly in my sights, I release the breath I’m holding and pull the trigger. BANG! The bullet blows straight into her forehead, sending her flailing toward the window. All I hear is the sound of glass crashing on the floor as she smashes through it, falling outside. I shuffle over to Parker. He leans up against the wall and holds pressure on where I shot him. Thankfully, it looks like the bullet only grazed his arm. “I can’t believe you shot me,” he says between gasps of pain.

480/494

I place my hand over the one resting on his wound. “I’m so sorry. I had no other choice,” I reply, placing a soft kiss on his cheek. “I know.” He turns to capture my lips with his before I can move away. His mouth quivers during the embrace, and I can practically feel the amount of pain he’s experiencing. “I’m pretty sure we’re overdue for a trip to the hospital, don’t you think?” he jokes with a weak laugh followed by an achy moan. “And you should probably untie your dad.” I release a small giggle at his comment while tracing his face with my fingertips. I smile when he musters enough strength to show me his famous grin. Pulling out my phone, I dial 911 and request an ambulance. The instant I hear my father’s moan, I leave Parker’s side and hobble over to him. I begin to rip through the duct tape that binds his hands, legs, and feet. With him free, I rub my hand along his hair until he opens his eyes. “Dani?” he asks wearily.

481/494

“Yeah, Dad.” Instead of replying, he smiles at the sound of my voice.

I take in a deep breath, lying in the recovery room while musing over the fact my nightmare is officially over. Parker enters my mind, and I wonder how he’s doing…wherever he is right now. I feel really guilty for shooting him, but I panicked and saw that as my only option at the time. To distract myself from my thoughts, I stare around at the heavy-duty medical curtain surrounding the bed. I begin to feel paranoid and claustrophobic by being walled in like this. I hear the door open, followed by the squeak of hospital bed wheels rolling in. It sounds like the bed gets parked right next to mine on the other side of the curtain. I wait for the orderlies to leave. When the door closes, I take my index

482/494

finger and push the heavy fabric to the side to catch a glimpse of the patient next to me. The first thing I see is Parker’s face. His eyes are closed and he’s resting peacefully. I smile when he grumbles just before turning his head to face the other direction. Tossing the blanket back, I move my legs over to dangle off the edge of the bed. Thankfully, I’m wearing thick socks when I touch down on the ground since I know this tile floor is freezing. When I feel balanced after standing up, I grab a fistful of the curtain and pull it out of my way. I stumble over to Parker’s bed and stand there, staring down at him. Taking his hand, I cup my other one over it. He stirs a little, but still remains asleep. “Thank you…for everything,” I say, and bend down to kiss his forehead. As I pull away, I see that his eyes are wide open and he’s grinning at me.

483/494

“You’re welcome,” he replies, reaching up to pull me in close for a kiss. When we separate, he adds, “I’d say thank you for everything too, but then I’d be thanking you for shooting me.” I giggle and tap him on the arm. He flinches before yelping in pain. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I forgot you were stabbed there.” “Damn…now you’re beating me up,” he comments with a chuckle. “Just shut your handsome face and kiss me again already.” He leans forward, bringing his lips mere inches from mine. “With pleasure.” Confusion hits me when I notice he’s stopped kissing me and I’m left doing all the work. My eyes shoot open to see him looking right back at me. “Something wrong?” I ask, hoping there isn’t. A half-smile curls his lips as he drapes a stray lock of hair behind my ear and keeps his hand there. His lengthy gaze without a single uttered word begins to make me feel anxious.

484/494

“What?” I prompt with a soft smile. “Something just occurred to me.” The pause he takes only succeeds in making me want to hear what he has to say even more. He sweeps his tongue across his lips with his eyes still fixed on mine. He reaches to grab my hand and interlocks our fingers before resting them over his heart. “I was your first…and if everything goes the way I hope it does, I’ll be your only. I can’t promise our future, Dani, but if you allow me, I’ll do everything in my power to love you like no one else will ever be able to.” I draw up our laced hands and place a kiss on each one of his fingers before finding my way to his lips. The love I have for him stretches beyond any emotion I’ve ever felt for one single person. After we finally separate, breathing heavily from our enthusiastic display of affection, I’m met again by his trademark grin. His eyes almost seem like they’re asking, “Well, what do you say?”

485/494

With all of the hard questions I’ve been faced with recently, this one seems like the easiest one I’ve ever had to answer. “You most certainly have my permission, Mr. Reed,” I whisper, hovering close to his mouth. “Consider it done,” he replies, cradling my face in his hands for one more kiss.

Five Months Later... I look into the full-length mirror that hangs on the back of my bedroom door, studying my choice of swimsuit for our spring break trip to Florida. My attention switches to the glaring scar on my right thigh. It rests there as a constant reminder of the night my life changed forever. “Dani, mail’s here,” I hear my dad call up to me. Throwing a towel around myself, I rush from the room and down the stairs to meet him in the kitchen. He’s standing there with the biggest smile on his face. In his outstretched hand is a bright white envelope. Snatching it from him, I notice the Blackburn University insignia in the top left corner. “I can’t read it,” I say, returning it to him. He pushes it back into my hand. “You have to.”

487/494

I smile at him and release a huge sigh before tearing into the envelope. Sliding out the folded piece of paper, I let the envelope fall to the ground. I unfold it and begin to read aloud. “Dear Danielle Marks, it is my pleasure to welcome you—” Before I can even finish, my father’s arms wrap around me, crunching up the letter between us. “I knew you’d get in,” he whispers in my ear while squeezing me even harder than before. “I can’t believe I got in!” I exclaim with the largest grin on my face. He pulls back and smiles. “I had no doubts at all. Now, go finish packing. You’ve got a trip to make,” he says after letting me go and motioning to the second floor. Bounding up the stairs two at a time, I hurry back to my room to get changed out of the swimsuit. The moment I hear the doorbell ring, I grab my bags and keys before moving to the stairs. Parker stands at the front door wearing a black tank top and a pair of red board shorts. I

488/494

guess I should’ve stayed in my bathing suit. My father shakes his hand, and Parker glances up at me as I wait at the top of the stairs. He grins and I feel a smile light up my face. “I’ll leave you two alone,” my dad says as I make my way down the steps, bags in hand. When I pass by him, he gives me a peck on the cheek and moves back into the kitchen. Parker steps in front of me as I set my bags on the floor. He reaches for my hand, then pulls me into his arms. I can literally feel the love he has for me when he holds me this close. “I got in,” I say, pulling out the folded acceptance letter from my pocket. “Was there any doubt?” he asks, bringing his face in closer when he speaks. “No, not really,” I reply with a smile before he presses his lips to mine in the sweetest of embraces. “You know, I never get tired of the rush I get from kissing you,” he whispers after we separate. “Well, I didn’t tell you to stop.”

489/494

He laughs and proceeds to put his mouth on mine again, picking up right where we left off. I hear my dad clear his throat in the vicinity. “Don’t you think you two should be getting on the road?” I turn and nod at him. He reaches his hand out to Parker. “Take care of my girl, okay?” “Most definitely, sir,” he replies. My dad gives me one last hug and kiss on the forehead before opening the front door. Parker grabs my bags as we leave the house. “Oh, I hope you don’t mind, but I invited a few people along. They were really insistent,” I hear Parker chuckle, coming up by my side on the front porch. I see Rory and Alex sitting there in my new Jeep. “Come on, you love birds,” Rory calls out. “Hurry your asses up. We’ve got a spring to get breakin’.” “Yeah, let’s get this bitch on a roll,” Alex yells from the back seat. She and Rory laugh. I smile, realizing this is exactly what I need.

490/494

I grab my bags from Parker and toss them at the two goofballs in the back seat. “Damn, girl! We’re only going for, like, a week. How much stuff do you need?” Rory teases, throwing the bag that landed in his lap behind him. I laugh off his comment and jump into the driver’s seat. When I turn on the engine, Parker climbs in over the passenger side door. He always has to take the road less traveled, but that’s just another thing on a long list of things I love about him. Buzz…Buzz… Everyone in the car tenses as they turn to look at me. The sound of my phone’s vibration is intensified by the cup holder it’s sitting in. I grab it and turn on the screen before reading the message: Have fun and be safe, okay? Love you! I smile at Dad’s text, which puts everyone else at ease before they settle back into their seats. Pulling out of the driveway, I see my dad

491/494

on the front porch waving to us, and we all wave back. I throw the car in drive and take off down the road. Parker takes my hand, lacing his fingers with mine, and brings them to rest on his thigh. I look over for a brief moment to catch that beautiful grin on his face. The wind sweeps through my hair and a sense of calm washes over me. I bask in the sun’s rays as they shine down on us, feeling warm as they caress my skin. Then a happy thought crosses my mind. This definitely seems like the start of something new, and I have a feeling my darkest days are now behind me. The End

About the Author Adam Kunz is the A part of the mother and son author duo C.A. Kunz. Growing up, he always had a fondness for R.L. Stine’s Fear Street series. So, it was a no brainer when he decided to write his own novel that it’d be a thrilling

493/494

mystery with a dash of horror. When he’s not busy writing, Adam enjoys his job at a theme park in Orlando, Florida as a décor consultant. This job brings him face to face with all sorts of nightmarish creatures, especially when he decorates the haunted houses for the park's annual Halloween event. It’s been said by many that his addiction to Starbucks coffee will most likely be his downfall later in life. If you would like to find out more about this author or One Tiny Secret, please visit the links below: Author Website- http://www.cakunz.blogspot.com Facebook Author Page- http://www.facebook.com/authoradamkunz

@Created by PDF to ePub