“And what, Clay?” she tilts her head. “You want me to tell you what it meant? You’re the one who said it.” She doesn’t raise her voice but is clearly frustrated. “You have told me to leave, have tightened your hand around my throat and almost killed me. You took me to breakfast, punched my ex, and now you’re standing here blocking me in against your truck. I cannot keep up with you. I don’t know what you want from me.”
“I know.”
“That’s not a fucking answer, Clay.”
“I’m aware of that.”
She stares at me and screws up her nose. “You are the single most frustrating person I have ever met.”
“The feeling is mutual,” I say, and she almost smiles but stops herself. I lean in and her chin tips up. I know I am about to cross a line, but I am so far past caring I can’t even see the line anymore.
My lips feather against hers, and my phone goes off in my pocket. Neither of us move, but when it goes off again, I pull back to answer it.
“You need to come home,” Ares says. There is no warmth or performance in his voice, which means it’s bad. “Vero is having one of his episodes.”
“How bad is it?”
“Bad enough that I’m calling you.”
“I’ll be there,” I say and end the call. I look over at Kayla, who is reading the worry on my face.
“What happened?”
“Vero,” I say, pocketing my phone. “I have to go.”
“I’m coming.”
“Kayla,” I warn.
“Clay, either take me with you or I will fucking swim there.”
“It’s not pretty.” I need her to hear what I am saying. “When he spirals, it’s not something you can prepare for. It’s not fun to watch—he won’t want you to see it.”
“Friendships don’t end when shit gets hard, Clay. Take me with you.”
I sigh. I believe her when she says that she will make her own way there, so I open her door and watch her climb inside before I close it, then hurry around to my side, slide in, and start the engine.
Kayla
The drive to the island is silent. Finally, the bridge lights appear through the windshield, but all I can think about is Vero, and I push everything else out of my mind. Clay slams to a halt, and we are barely out of the truck before Brawley appears, Ares a few steps behind him. Brawley glances at me and then at Clay. “What the fuck were you thinking bringing her here? We have no idea what we are walking into.”
“He was thinking that Vero is my friend,” I say before Clay can even open his mouth. “And I won’t sit at home while my friend needs help. Even if that means helping you look for him. Now tell me where you have already searched, so we can cover more ground.”
Brawley stares at me and nods. “The asylum, his room, the bar, the cemetery, and the cornfield perimeter. If he was fucking with Cave, we would have heard it.”
“Does he have any places he goes that aren’t on the island?” I ask. “Somewhere he would think no one would look?”
“No,” Brawley says, and I can hear the sadness in his voice.
“Then he is here somewhere,” I say. “Let’s split up.”
No one argues, and we head off in different directions. Though I am at a disadvantage of not knowing the island, there is no way I will let it stop me.
I head toward the big tent, and it is so quiet I can hear my own footsteps—it feels freaky being here alone. Using the torch on my phone to light my way, I check the corners and all the areas where a person could be hiding. I’m about to leave when a whimper catches my attention, and it’s so faint that I almost convince myself it was my imagination. Instead, I move toward the main stage, where my light catches on a door at the base. It is most likely a prop storage area, but as I crouch down and try the handle, I find that it’s locked from the inside.
“Vero?” I whisper.
There is nothing but silence, yet my gut says he’s inside.
