Total pages in book: 51
Estimated words: 48271 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 241(@200wpm)___ 193(@250wpm)___ 161(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48271 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 241(@200wpm)___ 193(@250wpm)___ 161(@300wpm)
“It’s been a long time since we’ve been out here, huh?” she muses softly.
“Yeah, it has,” I agree, my mind drifting back to those carefree days.
The last time was probably in high school. This is where most of us would come to party during the summer. At least until Sheriff Riley would show up and shut us down.
“It’s kinda ironic to think about how we shared our first kiss here all those years ago, and now here we are tonight, trying to have a baby together,” she continues, voicing where my thoughts just were only minutes ago.
Instead of admitting that to her, I reveal something else. “Guess what I found out the other day?”
She turns in my arms, peering up at me. “What?”
“Ryland knows about us sneaking out that night.”
She pushes against my chest, bolting upright. “You’re lying!”
I chuckle at her reaction. “Nope. Dead serious.”
Shock grips her expression. “How did he find out?”
I shrug, feeling a smirk tug at my lips. “Guess we weren’t as sneaky as we thought.”
Her eyes flare suddenly, a flicker of concern shadowing their depths. “Do you think Paw knew?”
I shake my head, rejecting the thought immediately. “No way. He would have had my ass for it.”
“He would have had both our asses,” she retorts with a laugh.
I disagree. He would have been upset with Ellie, but he would have been angrier at me. He made it clear on more than one occasion that I was to always watch out for her, to never do anything that might put her in harm’s way. He would have seen that night as a betrayal. But I don’t because I would have never let anything happen to her. I’d have died for her then, and I still would now.
Promise or no promise.
“I really miss him,” she whispers, her voice growing heavy with sorrow.
My arms hug her closer. “Me too.”
She nestles back into my embrace, her face pressing against my chest in an effort to hide the tears forming in her eyes. I hold her through it, just as I did in the months after he passed.
Losing Paw was hard on us all, but our grief paled in comparison to Ellie’s. She completely fell apart and it tore me up inside. I felt helpless, knowing there was nothing I could do, but hold her through it.
“Can we sleep here?” she asks moments later. “I’m not ready for tonight to end.”
The vulnerability in that confession strikes hard. “Yeah, Elle. We can stay. In the morning, we’ll head to Main Street for breakfast. How’s that sound?”
“Like heaven,” she returns softly, a smile in her voice.
My idea of heaven was holding her just like this, and the thought of it lasting forever.
Ellie
Eleven Years Old
Gunnar and I celebrate the start of another summer vacation with an overnight campout in my backyard. We kicked off with a fire, roasting hot dogs and marshmallows with Paw and Mr. Ryland, before heading to the tent for the night.
Now, wrapped in a blanket, I hang on Gunnar’s every word, shoving fistfuls of popcorn into my mouth as he tells one of his scariest stories yet.
“The babysitter held the now dead phone in her shaking hand and headed up the stairs to check on the little boy, the floorboards creeping with her every step. Creak. Creak.” His voice is low and ominous, captivating me at every turn. The glow from the lightning bugs further sets the tone, casting eerie shadows across his face. “Once she got to the top of the stairs that’s when she heard it …”
“What?” I ask impatiently, my heart racing in trepidation.
Gunnar leans in close, pausing for dramatic effect. “A light scraping sound coming from the little boy’s room.”
I clutch my blanket tighter, feeling a shiver of fear trickle down my spine.
“She also noticed the door was slightly opened, even though she closed it after putting him to bed.”
Oh, man. This babysitter is toast.
Grabbing my jug of iced tea, I take a refreshing sip, washing down the anticipation lodged in my throat.
“Quietly, she pushed the bedroom door open further, and there, in the darkness, she saw his small sleeping form lumped under the blankets, but when she whispered his name, he never stirred.”
I conjure up all the possibilities of what has happened to him, none of them good.
“She crept through the dark room toward him and when she pulled back the blankets, you will never believe what she found …”
“The boy was dead with his guts everywhere,” I blurt out, unable to resist adding my own twist to the tale.
Gunnar shakes his head. “Nope. It was a bunch of pillows.”
Confusion fills me at this unexpected twist. “Huh?”
A smirk plays at the corners of his mouth. “The babysitter was confused too. Until the scraping sound started again. This time right behind her.”
My breath catches, my imagination running wild with terrifying images.