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“What is happening?” Shelby glanced toward the diner. The lights shone brightly inside, but she couldn’t see anyone. Just empty booths.

Kimber grabbed her hands. “Let’s get in the car. Please, please, please! Let’s drive. Get far, far away!” Her words shook.

Slices were on her right arm. Her left.

“Who did this to you?” Shelby asked. The rain picked up, hitting harder.

Kimber blinked. “I see you.”

A chill chased over Shelby.

Hunter had pulled out a gun. The one from his ankle holster? Must be. Because the one that he’d had holstered under his arm earlier—he’d put that one in the glove box after they’d left the penitentiary. “Get her in the car,” he ordered Shelby. “Lock the doors.” Then…

He seemed to catch what he’d said.

His head whipped to Shelby. “Fuck.”

Because the last time she’d stayed in a car while he’d gone away…

The car had exploded.

“New plan,” he gritted out.

But this vehicle was safe. It had been in the garage at the safe house. John Henry had kept eyes on it at the penitentiary. That meant it was safe, right?

“Come with me,” Hunter urged Shelby. “We’re going inside the diner.”

“No!” A howl from Kimber. “They’re dead in there! Dead, dead, dead. He killed them—I came to meet Gabriel, and I couldn’t see Ms. Rochelle when I walked in. I-I went looking for her in the kitchen.” Fast, frantic words. “He’d killed her. Stabbed the cook. He…he was waiting for me.” She looked down at her arms as blood and rain dripped from her. “I was dead, too, until I heard your car pull up. He let me go then…” A shudder. “My keys are inside. My car keys. My purse.” Her shaking hand rose to her throat. “He tore my pearls when I ran.”

“Who did it?” Hunter demanded. He gripped his gun. “Gabriel? Gabriel did this? Is that what you’re saying?”

“I was supposed to meet him.” Choked words. “But Gabriel wasn’t there. Rochelle was dead…h-he attacked me.”

“Who?” Hunter snarled.

Shelby dove back into the car and snagged the second gun out of the glove box.

Kimber frowned at her. Dropped her gaze to the gun. “I would like one of those.” Her voice came out wooden.

Shelby couldn’t see Kimber’s eyes clearly. But she worried that if she did see them, Kimber’s pupils might be pinpricks. Her voice was off. Her body shaking.

Shock?

“I don’t have another gun,” Shelby told Kimber as she tightened her grip on the weapon. “Get in the car. Lock the doors. My phone is inside my bag.” She gave her the phone’s password, twice. “Use it to call Jonah.”

“Who came at you with the knife, Kimber?” Hunter snapped.

“Jonah.” A whisper.

“Yes, call Jonah,” Shelby urged her. The car should be safe. No bombs. “Get inside. Lock the doors. Hunter and I need to go see if Rochelle and the cook need help.”

“Don’t have to call Jonah.” Kimber shoved Shelby aside. Slid into the vehicle. Into the passenger seat. “Jonah is in the diner. Jonah has the knife. Jonah. Jonah. Jonah!” Her head turned. “How did he get to the sorority house so fast? I wondered that. The night of that attack, so long ago. Always wondered. I was one of your pledge sisters. You don’t remember me. I didn’t matter. I…” An exhale. Then the words came again, faster, “He was there. He and Nate. They did it all together. It is Jonah.” She grabbed for the door. Hauled it closed.

Shelby heard the sound of the locks sealing. Kimber rocked back and forth in the front, passenger seat. Back and forth. Then she hunched over, moving down as if to hide in the floorboard.

It is Jonah.

Shelby looked toward the brightly lit diner.