Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 94220 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94220 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
“Hey,” I say. He shakes out of his state and turns to me.
“They were your fucking friends?”
“Yup.”
“Well, at least you made it clear they needed to fuck off.”
“Yeah. But it does make me sad. I mean, there was some problematic shit before, but friends have issues and hit rough patches. At least that’s what I thought it was, but now that I saw Steph and Avi…they looked like they didn’t want to go along with James, but they knew he’d be a dick if they didn’t. He used to say dumb shit, and I’d let him get away with it, but if he’d tried back then to turn all of us on a friend like that, I would’ve spoken up. I would have told everyone what they were doing was wrong.”
“Those guys who hang with him are cowards,” he says through his teeth.
“Only wish I’d known that sooner, you know?”
His grip on my hand relaxes, but then he firms it slightly. “I’m sorry you had to run into them tonight.”
“It was bound to happen sooner or later. Not that big of a city. Now can we pretend that didn’t happen and enjoy the rest of our night? As much as we can, at least.”
“Hey,” he says. “Keep in mind what you told me before those assholes showed up. We don’t have to pretend to be okay with each other. We don’t have to pretend we’re fine tonight. Let’s be not-fine together.”
A smile tugs at my lips.
He moves toward me, and I eagerly accept another kiss before we continue our stroll along the Lights Walk. Neither of us pretends things are fine. We don’t act like nothing’s wrong. Like we’re not hurting. We go through the walk, holding each other’s hand, carrying our pain and hurt.
There’s relief in not feeling the need to pretend that allows me to enjoy the walk and the Ferris wheel more than I would have if I’d needed to perform, to appear like I was having a fine time.
We don’t talk much. We don’t need to.
It’s nice to feel like this and know I’m not as alone as I once was.
When we finish, we head back to my car, and as I slide into the driver’s seat, Zane reaches over and takes my hand. “Thanks for tonight. It was nice.”
“It wasn’t what I was expecting, for sure, but I enjoyed spending it with you.”
He offers a warm, soothing smile. “Now how about we get back to my place and fuck away some of this bullshit?” he asks, leaning toward me.
“I like the sound of that.”
As I’m about to kiss him, a buzzing sound catches me by surprise. It comes again and again as he pulls his phone out of his pocket.
He looks at the name on the screen before eyeing me strangely. “It’s my foster mom. Do you mind if I—”
“No, please. Take it.”
“Hey, Jill?” he says, not disguising his confusion. “Everything okay?”
“Have you seen the news?” I hear her say.
“No, I haven’t.”
“I think you should check. It’s about Mike…”
Tension rises within me as his gaze catches mine. An adrenaline kick, a surge of hope. But from what I can make of Jill’s voice, I know it’s misguided. If he was found alive, she’d have told him. The hope turns to fear, anticipating the news she’s about to share.
24
ZANE
BODY DISCOVERED NEAR WYACHET DAM LINKED TO RECENT DISAPPEARANCES
A source close to the Wyachet Police Department revealed to the Gwinnett Daily Post that a body discovered not far from Wyachet Dam is believed to be one of the missing local men from the past year.
Though the department refuses to discuss details of the case until a DNA test confirms their suspicions, the Post’s source says the remains are believed to be Michael Grayson, who went missing last March.
Lead Detective Clarissa Roth is expected to give a press conference about the DNA test results at 10 a.m. tomorrow morning when she will discuss the department’s investigation further.
Here I was worried about this paranoia I was experiencing—feeling as though eyes were boring into me from behind on our walk. But now it’s not some imagined phantom I have to fear, but reality.
A series of scenes play through my mind.
I try to imagine the state Mike’s body was in when they found him.
Was he rotting away, or was his body intact, having been disposed of recently?
The images in my head aren’t helped by all the horror movies I’ve watched. Vivid, graphic depictions of Mike plague my thoughts until my mind shifts focus back to when we were kids. We’re in the family room, laughing and playing video games together. He’s eating Cap’n Crunch, flashing a smile after getting a taste. Then there’s one much later, as I hold him and tears slide down our faces. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you,” I say.