Total pages in book: 238
Estimated words: 231781 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1159(@200wpm)___ 927(@250wpm)___ 773(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 231781 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1159(@200wpm)___ 927(@250wpm)___ 773(@300wpm)
I took one more look around the cemetery, making sure we were alone as I lit the candles.
Only the shadows of the trees on the grass—blue in the moonlight—moved as the breeze shook the leaves free off their branches.
I half expected Will to try to take out his phone to film this, but thankfully, he didn’t. I didn’t want to wind up on one his videos.
Adding the dead animal offerings, I checked to see that Will had finished the scarecrows, complete with basketball heads and scary faces drawn in Sharpie with forbidding eyebrows and teeth.
I laughed and rolled my eyes, hearing him snort at his own cleverness as he moved around the fence.
I stuck in the tiki torches from Will’s garage around the crypt, lighting them, and then fished some light green chalk out of one of the bags that I’d grabbed from bio lab.
Running inside the fence, I raised the chalk to the stone, about to start the vandalism part, but I looked up at the stained-glass windows once more, hesitating.
“It is empty?” I said again. “Right?”
I didn’t feel bad about the vandalism or petty theft, but I would if people were laid to rest in there right now.
But he just shook his head. “They just finished it. No tenants yet.”
I nodded, squeezing the chalk. Go to hell, then, Martin.
Hurrying, I drew triple Xs all over the wall, reading in one of my coffee table books about a ritual where you draw the symbols on a tomb, making a wish. If the dead grant it, you have to come back and leave an offering and circle the Xs.
It was washable, and the tomb would be good as new when they cleaned it, but if the spark caught fire with the public, they’d be continually cleaning this tomb for a century.
Will grabbed a blue piece and helped, both of us smiling and rushing, because it would be no good if we got caught, especially me, and he knew it.
I grabbed the bag off the grass that I used to haul the candles, and we backed away, staring at the McClanahans’ newest nightmare.
“Hey!” someone yelled.
I sucked in a breath.
“Oh, shit.” Will grabbed my hand and pulled me, running down the slope. I looked behind me, seeing a man in a khaki uniform jogging after us.
Oh, my God!
I squealed, laughing as Will dragged me through the trees, around a tomb, and past the fountain.
I dug in my heels, trying to keep up as the cold air whipped across my face.
Will yanked me behind a massive headstone, and we hid, Will peering around the corner to see if we’d made it.
He’d left the truck parked just on the other side of the tree line, otherwise anyone would’ve known his vehicle. It was a pain in the ass, dragging all that stuff in three trips, but man, that was worth it.
I hugged his arm, still shaking with laughter.
He turned, smiling as he gazed into my eyes. “I love seeing you laugh.”
I dipped my forehead to his, my body filled with excitement and more freedom than I’d ever felt in my whole life.
“More,” I begged.
He took my hand in his, caressing my jaw. “Yeah? I have just the place.”
• • •
An hour later, I laughed, squeezing his hand and feeling that drop in my stomach as the pirate ship swayed back and forth.
Shit. I squealed, butterflies swarming my stomach as the ride slowed, the tires screeching against the bottom as we went up, caught air for a split second, and then fell back down, the wind blowing through my hair.
Why the hell didn’t I come here more often? How many people could have roller coasters in their lives every day?
It was kind of pricey, I guess. The cost for a ticket kept getting more and more expensive as Adventure Cove struggled to stay open over the years.
The bars came up, and Will and I climbed out, laughing down the steps.
“It’s my favorite ride,” he said. “Nothing quite like the sensation of free falling.”
Nope. It was better than the best roller coaster. I looked up at Will, seeing him pull cash out of his wallet and then take a stick of pink cotton candy, handing it to me as he took his change.
“You want my jacket?” he asked as we started to walk again.
I picked off some of the fluffy sugar. “I’m okay.”
I stuck the candy in my mouth, honestly a little chilly, but I was loving the wind too much. I was like my grandmother that way.
We walked, the sounds of the park raging around us—screams and coaster tracks and bells ringing from the game booths…
The sea air wafted through my nostrils, and I looked past the Ferris wheel, deep into the dark where I couldn’t see it, but I knew it was there.
The coast and the ocean and Cold Point—the edge that dropped off onto the rocks and into the sea.