She meets my eyes, suspicion finally creeping in. “What I do in my free time is adult business.”
I scoff. Adult business? “I’ll bet it was,” I quip, my innuendo clear.
“Shayne,” she scolds, looking at me as if she doesn’t recognize me. That makes two of us.
I reach down for my backpack, taking everything out except my notebook and a couple pens, then I swipe the throw blanket off the back of the couch and stuff it inside the backpack before zipping it up. I shrug it on one shoulder and head for the door. It’s not that I care what she does, but if she’s planning to move us in with some new guy, I’m going to have to figure something else out. I’m not moving again.
“Where are you going?”
I turn and look at her over my shoulder. “What I do in my free time is adult business.”
By the time I make it to the barn, it’s starting to get dark, and I kick myself for not having the foresight to bring a flashlight. The one on my phone will have to do. Lifting the rock, I scoop up the key and make quick work unlocking the padlock. These woods never used to scare me—probably because Thayer was always with me—but now, alone right before dark, I’m a little on edge.
I close the door behind me, instantly feeling safer, calmer, now that I’m inside. I close my eyes and inhale, taking in the familiar scent. Of everything from my life before, I think I miss being in this place most of all. And the person who was here with me.
I shake away the thought, walking over to the couch. I drop my bag onto the floor and fish out the blanket before spreading it out over one side of the couch. Turning on the flashlight on my phone, I prop it up on the cushion, then retrieve my notebook and the first pen I touch. I try not to think about the fact that the couch is full of dirt and dust, or that this place has probably become home to God knows how many bugs and critters.
I sit down, tucking my legs underneath me, and I start to write. And write. And write. I write to my brother. I write to Danny. I write to my mom and Grey. And I write to Thayer. I fill pages and pages of all the things I never said—of all the things I’ll never say. And it’s not until I’m done that I notice a tear rolling down my face. I bring two fingers to my cheek, collecting the moisture before rubbing my thumb and fingers together until they’re dry. I don’t think I’ve allowed myself to cry since the night of the funeral…for so many reasons. I didn’t have the right, and more than that, I was afraid once I started, I wouldn’t stop.
Reaching over, I pick up my phone and check the time—ten forty-six—and notice not only that my mom has called several times, but my phone is clinging to life at one percent battery. “Oh my God,” I whisper out loud, shoving my notebook and pen into my backpack. I opt for leaving the blanket. I’ll come back for it tomorrow.
I rush for the door, ignoring the pain that tugs at my nipples from the movement, and click the padlock shut. Holding one arm across my chest, I sprint through the woods I know so well, hoping like hell my flashlight will last until I get back to my house. I don’t make it more than ten feet before that hope dies and I’m blanketed in darkness.
“Fuck,” I curse, trying in vain to turn it back on, but, of course, it doesn’t work. I take a deep breath, trying to slow my racing heart. “Calm down, calm down, calm down,” I chant to myself in a whisper. You’ve walked this path a thousand times. You can do this. I take a single step, and a twig snaps from somewhere behind me. I freeze, whipping around. I can’t see anything, but the darkness has made me more aware of every sound. I wait for long seconds before chalking it up to a squirrel or something, but when I start to walk again, I hear a different noise. This time, it sounds like leaves crunching, and it’s coming from somewhere in front of me, off to my left. Rustling from my right has my head snapping in that direction, wishing I wasn’t stupid enough to lose track of time without a flashlight.
Before my imagination can run wild, I take off, sprinting toward my house once more. I hear footsteps behind me, picking up speed to keep up with my pace, and that’s when the panic starts to set in. It’s not an animal. These are people. As in, more than one. I go as fast as my legs will carry me, panting with the exertion. I can hear their footsteps getting closer, and when I finally get the courage to look behind me, I don’t see anyone. I stop, surveying my surroundings, half-wondering if I’m going crazy. But when I turn back around, a dark, shadowy figure stands right in front of me.
“Boo.”
I scream, my heart plummeting into my stomach, but hands fly out, one covering my mouth, one cradling the back of my head.
“Shut the fuck up.”
Thayer? I try to force my eyes to adjust. I can’t see his face, but I know it’s him. I can tell by his voice. His scent—tobacco and pine.
He peels his palm from my mouth and pulls a flashlight from somewhere, bathing my face in bright light. I squint, bringing a hand up to shield my eyes.
“Someone’s chasing me,” I say, still out of breath, chancing a glance behind me.
“Is that so?” he asks, and I can hear the amusement in his voice. That’s when it clicks. It was him. And probably Holden, if I had to guess.
“You guys can come out now,” I yell, turning around as fear gives way to frustration and embarrassment. Three more flashlights click on, bobbing through the darkness as they run toward us, cackling like hyenas. Once they’re close enough, Thayer’s flashlight illuminates their faces, confirming my suspicions. Holden, Christian, and Baker.
“Assholes.”
I try to shove past Thayer, but he blocks my path. “What are you doing?”
“Going home,” I snap.
“No, what are you doing out here?” he clarifies, moving closer. “Were you in the barn?”
I swallow hard, not wanting him to know that I’ve been going back there. He’d find a way to ruin it for me somehow.
“No,” I lie. “I went for a walk. Couldn’t sleep.”
He smirks, the shadows from the flashlight making his face look all too sinister, and leans in even closer, lowering his voice so only I can hear. “I can help you out with that.” His breath fans my ear, and goosebumps spread down my arms. “Remember the last time you couldn’t sleep?” he taunts. “Want me to touch your pussy again? Maybe I’ll use my tongue this time.”
My cheeks burn, the tips of my ears getting hot. “Fuck off.” I barrel past him, and this time he lets me by.
“Come on, Shayne,” he yells after me. “It’ll be just like old times!”
Shayne
“Good morning, Sunshine,” Valen says, looking me up and down. “You look like shit.”
“Couldn’t sleep,” I mutter, not even bothering to act offended by her comment. Lack of sleep coupled with the fact that I opted for a baggy, oversized shirt to let my piercings breathe have me looking borderline homeless.
Last night, after Thayer’s little stunt, I tossed and turned all night. I told myself it was the lasting effects of the adrenaline, but it was more than that. I can help you out with that. His words played in my mind on repeat. They were crass and offensive, but they made my stomach flip with…something. Ironically enough, I only fell asleep once I finally stopped fighting the urge to relieve the tension he created. So, I guess in a way, he did help me out with that. Asshole.