Page 78

He stopped abruptly and turned to her. “Hey, I meant to ask you something.” The levity in his voice broke through the awkward silence.

Evie turned and faced him, long shadows cast across her face from the lights of the pier. Hesitation shone in her eyes.

“I know tonight was…” He laughed and rubbed the back of his head. “Well, it was amazing, but then it turned into a disaster.” He pointed at himself. “My fault, obviously. But, I really did have a good time…and I meant everything I said.”

A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. “I did too, Ethan…” she said. He thought she wanted to say more with how she bit down on the inside of her cheek.

“Anyways, I wanted to ask you…” He paused, and then the words stumbled out in a rush. “There’s a yacht party at work.”

Ethan cringed at how pretentious it sounded. “I know. I know. But it's for the higher-ups or whatever, and somehow I got invited…” He tilted his head and raised his brows. “I wanted to see if you wanted to come, as my…date?”

Evie’s face shifted entirely as the question hung in the air between them.

Great, you really fucked this up, Ethan.

She didn't say anything for an uncomfortably long time. Ethan was about to tell her to completely forget it when she finally spoke.

Just as he was about to have his second panic attack of the night, Evie asked, “When?”

Yacht party.

The words slammed into my gut, knocking the air from my lungs. I stared at Ethan as I fought to keep my face neutral. My mind short-circuited, unable to believe what he’d just said.

Preston…yacht…

The same yacht that I’d been stowed away in. Bound and thrown from the railing like chum from a fishing boat. Disappeared from the fucking world, just like every other problem the Willows were faced with.

I’d played the moment in my mind every day since then, picturing Preston’s stunned expression as I walked up to him. I never imagined the irony that it could be the same goddamn deck where he’d wrapped his hands around my throat and stolen every last shred of dignity from me, before he’d taken my life.

Just like I did the night he murdered me, I’d stand right in front of him with no fear inside me. Just the burning, unbridled rage that had staved off the cold grasp of death long enough to be given a second chance.

It was so close I could see it: staring right into his soulless black eyes, surrounded by Seattle’s wealthiest. Completely unaware that the woman he murdered had been coming for him this entire time.

Thoughts of that night flashed in my mind. Slowly sinking deeper into the black depths as the giant hull of Preston’s yacht faded away above me. The burn of the restraints as they bit into my wrists, and his parting words pressing on my skull before the darkness took me.

After tonight, you’ll just be another dead girl that nobody gives a shit about.

This was the moment I’d been waiting for since accepting Layne’s bargain. Ethan was asking me to go back to the scene of my own murder—the place where the Evelyn Graymore I knew had died.

This is too good to be true, I thought. I need more information.

“When?” I asked.

Ethan's face brightened. “It’s next Saturday. We’re all meeting at Bell Harbor Marina and then taking the yacht to his place on Mercer Island.” He rubbed the back of his neck, half-laughing. “I know how ridiculously pretentious it sounds, but I just thought….” He paused and looked me in the eyes. “I’d really love to have you with me. I love Joyce, don't get me wrong, but I’d much prefer to have you there as my date.” He smiled.

Mercer Island. Private Dock. His domain.

I felt like I was thousands of feet in the air again as my stomach sank. Everything in me screamed to say yes. Seize the opportunity. This is what I'd been waiting for since the Bay’s brackish water flooded my lungs.

Preston Willows on a silver goddamn platter.

My head spun, and the words I was grasping for were paralyzed in my throat. There were so many factors that I hadn't thought through.

How would I handle being on the boat? Wouldn't Preston recognize me? Granted, I looked a little different now, but there's no way he could forget the face of the girl he murdered, even Eddie had noticed. I needed more time to think this through.

I looked up at Ethan as he fidgeted with his hands. His green eyes searched my face for a sign of anything besides the stunned look I probably had plastered on it.

Only minutes ago, those same beautiful green eyes of his had been flooded with the curse’s golden light. Terror carved into his face.