There was a suspended moment of silence where all Jett could hear was the frantic beating of his heart. It was like the moment before lightning struck the earth, destroying everything in its path.
And then—to Jett’s horror—Mike charged in Harrison’s direction, disappearing out of sight.
Harrison
His vision was blurry, and his head was killing him, but Harrison pushed through it. He ran from the house, his feet barely touching the porch steps as he bolted down them. The snow and cold made everything disorienting, but he couldn’t slow down—he needed to give Jett enough time to escape.
Snarling gasps and stomping feet were chasing after him, but Harrison was a few strides ahead. He had seen the axe and knew what would happen if he got caught, but he wasn’t thinking about that.
Jett. Jett needed to run.
Harrison would lead Mike away so Jett could get in the Jeep and drive to find help. That was the only thought he had right now.
He had promised—promisedto keep Jett safe and protect him with his life, he just hadn’t expected to cash in that promise so soon.
His muddled thoughts told him that he could have let Jett shoot the bastard, but other thoughts interrupted that notion before it could take root. Jett was not his brother. He was not a person capable of killing someone, and coming out on the other side of that life-changing event unscathed.
Harrison refused to let Jett be broken by Mike—not now, not ever. If it cost him his life, so be it. That was a price he’d pay a thousand times over, because protecting Jett meant more than surviving. It meant keeping the best thing he’d ever had in this world safe from the worst.
There was only one path left for him to follow, so Harrison turned toward the lake, shook the aches and pain out of his body, and tore through the snow.
“Harrison, the ice isn’t thick enough.”
Luca’s voice was whispering in his ear, blocking out the sounds of the rampaging monster behind him. He had a concussion. How ironic that this was his first one despite playing hockey for years. He hadn’t expected audiblehallucinations, but he would take any help he could get—ghost or not.
“It can handle the weight of one person,”Taylor said, his voice gruff with tension.“But two heavy guys? Not likely.”
But they didn’t get it. That was the plan.
“Dad told us the lake has a current, and that’s why it takes so long to freeze in the winter,”said Luca.“You need to turn back, Harrison. You can’t die here.”
Why couldn’t he? If he died and dragged Mike with him, then Jett would live, and that was enough.
There was less snow on the lake because of the wind, and the ice picks on Harrison’s boots made it easy for him to keep ahead of Mike. He hadn’t used his legs like this in a long time, and the only reason why he hadn’t been overtaken by pain was because of adrenaline. Adrenaline was the only thing keeping him going.
“He’s springing a trap,”said Taylor.“Harrison, over here!”
Harrison could feel the blood frozen on his face and in his hair, soaking his jacket and shirt. Everything was so bright and hard to look at, but through the snow and blurriness, he spotted a figure on the lake before him.
Not a figure. Taylor wasn’t really there.
Luca wasn’t really there.
This was the concussion talking, nothing more.
Harrison knew that, but Taylor had been his best friend, and his body instinctively reacted to his order. He bolted for the figure and felt something shift under his feet in warning.
“Stop running!”
Mike had lost his mind. He was a rabid animal that needed to be put down, and Harrison was going to make surehewas the man to do it.
Ice cracked, rumbling through the lake like thunder. It was always thunder for Harrison—always a storm raging toward him, trying to drown and suffocate. The fear was so familiar that it gave him clarity.
Harrison came to a hard stop and spun to face Mike, clenching his fists, but keeping his arms by his sides. He tried his best to appear non-threatening as he watched Mike slow to a stop ten feet away from him.
The world was wobbly, but Harrison could make out the madness in those brown eyes. Mike was holding the axe in the air, his entire body heaving with exhaustion from the hunt. A smile crept onto his face. He thought he’d won.
“You half-dead fuck.” Mike’s gaze looked Harrison up and down, taking in his injured state. “Covered in blood and swaying on your feet. That must be one hell of a headache. But I did use a log, so it makes sense.”
