“I’m gonna go look. You stay here and drink some water.”
“This is like the start of a horror film. I’ll come with you.”
I gently push her into Shade’s abandoned chair and pinch my brother’s jacket from the blanket on the grass before dropping it into her lap. “Just stay and put that on. It’s getting cold.”
“You’re bossy.”
“Yeah, I know. I’ll be back.”
She closes her eyes and tips her chin, the fight in her slowly fading. I wait until she’s draped the jean jacket over her front and then take hurried steps down the road. Goosebumps rise on my bare thighs when I start to make out figures moving around the car.Ezra’s car.
The door is open, but nobody is inside.
They’re on the road.
“That’s enough! We’ve made our point. He’s not going to show the videos to anyone.”
Shade’s voice cuts through me. My boot catches on a rock, and I trip a few forward paces, covering my mouth with a clammy palm. The scene unfolding is from my deepest, darkest nightmares.
No, it’s worse.
Ash is holding my ex-boyfriend up from behind, his arms beneath his armpits and eyes wilder than I’ve ever seen them. They’re still glazed over, but fury makes them glow. I can’t make out Ezra’s face, but I know it’s him. It’s his blond hair that’s matted with blood, his voice muttering words that I can’t make out.
My brother staggers back half a step when the body—the man—blocking the way moves. Rowe’s back and shoulders ripple through the tight expanse of his shirt as he twists, his boots planted firm to the gravel. His hat is gone, lying in the grass. I can’t see his face or hear his voice. And fuck, is that blood on the rocks?Is any of it his?
The trees blur beside me when I start to run, nearly reaching my destination before an arm cuts across my front, stopping me. I push forward against it, but then it curls and hauls me backward. A floppy mess of black hair appears, then Shade’s brown eyes. They’re flooded with terror, and that makes mine worse.
“Back up, Tilly. You’ve gotta get out of here.”
My throat is sticky. I can’t breathe.
When my feet don’t move, Shade starts to drag me backward. I go a few inches before snapping back into myself and wiggling in his hold. Shaking my head, I flatten my hands to his body and shove.
“Let go of me!”
I’m panicking. Sweat drips down my spine as I lift my knee and bring it to his groin. It makes contact, and then he’s releasing me with a rabid curse. His hands fall to his crotch, and I rush past him on wobbly legs.
This is about the videos.
I didn’t think he’d actually share them. The messages he sent me earlier were threatening, but I didn’t take him seriously. I thought him having the nerve to record us was more than enough for a guy like him. Having them sent to my brother and his friends wasn’t a realistic possibility to me.
We weren’t even in love. It only lasted a few months. I don’t . . . I don’t . . .
“Rowe,” I murmur, reaching out a cautious hand. It makes contact with his bulging shoulder blade before he drives his fist into Ezra’s chest. “You need to stop. He isn’t worth?—”
Ezra’s face is . . .
Ash drops his body, a startled noise escaping him when he notices me, fury morphing into shame. There’s blood on him too. It’s smeared across his throat and staining his light blue shirt. Rowe catches Ezra and lowers him to the ground. I stand frozen in place, sipping in short, staggered breaths, watching the only boy I think I’ll ever truly love fall to his knees.
That’s what it has to be. After all these years, I must love him. It’s the only thing that makes sense.
“Tilly,” Ash starts, sounding so unlike himself. “You need to go get Dad.”
I ignore him, dropping to kneel beside Rowe. Lifting my eyes to the sky, I avoid looking down at Ezra and touch my friend again. His face is blanched, ghostly. There’s a faraway look in his eyes that guts me far more than knowing my ex sounds like he’s gurgling water when he breathes.
His cheek is ice-cold beneath my palm as I cup it and force his head to turn my way. He doesn’t fight my touch. I swallow my tongue when he leans into it instead, releasing a pained exhale across my fingertips.
“You need to go,” he croaks, voice brittle.
