Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 99500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 498(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 498(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Willa grabs hold of my arm, tugging me inside while Callum heads for his garage. He returns with a shovel that doesn’t look like it’s ever been used and pushes past us out of the house. Willa guides me over to their sofa and encourages me to sit. Then, she starts rapid-fire texting someone.
“I’m sure it just came in from the woods across the street,” Willa offers, though she sounds doubtful. “Spencer is on his way. He was at the lodge, so he’ll be here in ten minutes or so.”
I try to distract myself from the terrifying snake and remember back to the days Spencer would bring me to parties at his pops’ brother’s lodge. Back when we were friends on the verge of more. It feels like we might get back to that point one day. I’d rather hope for something like that than think about why there’s a rattlesnake in my bed.
Time seems to crawl by, and then, finally, Spencer bursts through the front door. He yanks me up and into his arms, hugging me to him. I cling to him, choking on a sob.
“I was so scared,” I admit tearfully. “I’ve never been so scared in my entire life.”
“Shh,” he croons, rubbing my back. “You’re safe. I’m here now.”
I allow myself to be comforted by him. It feels good to not think and just feel. But the feelings grow sour when I hear another voice.
“I came as quickly as I could,” Hugo booms upon entering Callum’s house. “I needed to make sure you were okay.”
Shame chases away the lingering fear icing my veins as I pull away from Spencer’s hold. Hugo is watching us, eyes tight and mouth pressed into a hard line. Unable to bear the look any longer, I rush over to him, letting him scoop me into a comforting hug.
This is sick.
I want them both to hold me and promise me everything will be okay because I’m a sick girl who clearly enjoys wreaking havoc on everyone else’s lives.
“Callum just texted that it’s dead and we need to get over there now,” Spencer barks out, voice clipped with anger.
I wither a little inside, knowing he’s pissed at me for leaving his arms to go to his father’s. And Hugo is probably pissed at me for seeking comfort in Spencer’s arms. Everything about this is a mess and I’m solely responsible for it.
Willa takes my hand and I gratefully allow her to lead me out of their house. Hugo and Spencer stride ahead of us.
“It’s okay,” Willa assures me. “Everything will be okay. You’re safe now.”
I nod, hating that more tears are welling. I’m not usually this fragile or emotional. Park Mountain, Washington, has that effect on me. At least in LA, I felt with my body, not my heart. Here, I can’t stop feeling everywhere.
We follow the men inside the house and into my room. In the center of my bed is a now severed snake, blood all over my bedspread. Bile creeps up my throat. Gross. I’ll never be able to sleep there again.
“How did a snake get into the house?” Hugo demands, clearly stunned and confused.
“Someone put it here,” Callum says through gritted teeth.
My blood runs cold. I’d thought, deep down, something was off. There was something menacing and purposeful to that snake being in my bed. Someone did this to me. Someone wants to hurt me.
“How the hell do you know that?” Hugo takes several steps forward.
Callum points with the bloody shovel to the snake carcass. “They left a note.”
Spencer walks over to it, shoves the dead snake aside, and picks up two pictures and a note.
“What’s it say?” I croak out.
Spencer turns to look at me, features hard with fury. “Snake? Slut? Or both?”
“Can you and Willa take care of this?” Hugo barks out, waving a hand at his brother. “Please. We need a moment alone with Aubrey.”
Callum nods and then makes quick work of wrapping up the dead snake in the bedding. He passes the shovel to Willa and then they both exit, somber expressions on their faces. I stare at the center of the bed. The mattress is perfectly white. No blood droplets or any indication that a snake was just killed on it.
“Dad, look,” Spencer grinds out. “Fuck.”
I drag my gaze from the bed to the photographs in his hand. The one on top is a picture of me and Hugo cozied up on the couch when we watched a movie in the theater room. He moves it and replaces it with the other picture. It’s of Spencer hugging me from behind yesterday in the kitchen.
There are cameras in the house.
Oh my God.
The world spins and I grow alarmingly dizzy. Panic claws up my throat. I cry out, falling to my knees, and grip my neck as I gasp for air.