Rage swells inside me—multiplying, unstoppable.
“Death only likes to bang me,” Summer says, trying for humor, “but it never keeps me.”
My gun is already aimed at the corpse.
I fire once.
Then again.
And again, emptying the magazine into dead flesh until the slide locks back.
Still not enough.
My foot finds his face, and I start driving it down, over and over, until an eye pops loose and rolls away, as if it can outrun my fury.
My assault stops when an engine roars to life, only to look up and find Summer behind the wheel.
Rage vanishes, and fear takes its place.
Dropping the gun, I sprint there, trying to block her way out. I can’t let her leave. I won’t.
“Summer!” I shout when she puts the car in reverse. Chasing after her, I slam both hands on the hood of the car. “Don’t!” ?nother shout, but it sounds a lot like a plea.
“I love you!” she mouths, before pressing the gas, making the surface of the hood slip from under my palms.
“Summer!” Her name comes out like a visceral scream, the pain of being left by her, even for a little while, audible in each syllable.
The car doesn’t stop when she makes a J-turn and speeds away, faster than she can change her mind about it. And I’m sure she doesn’t look in the rearview, because if she does, she’ll see my pain, and that might make her resolve to leave falter and die.
I’ll always find her, but a single second of her being away fromme is a second too much.
I stand in the driveway, willing myself to stay rooted to the spot instead of chasing after her. She left for a reason, and I’ll finish today what’s been long overdue.
When I turn, Dean’s running toward his bike.
“Make sure she’s okay.”
He nods, puts his helmet on, flips the visor down, and revs the bike, disappearing from the driveway faster than Summer did.
“Can you track her down?” That’s my only concern, and I direct it at Link with the very first step over the threshold of my home, in case she slips away from Dean.
“Anywhere.”
“Do so!” I zero back on my father. Connor is pointing a gun at his head. “Leave us!”
“Ace?” Link says my name like a question of whether I need him there, if someone else should carry the burden of taking care of my father.
“I’ve got it from here,” I reassure him, but he still hesitates before turning for the door. “Jacob,” I call after my cousin, and he halts.
“I don’t blame her if that’s what you’re going to ask.”
Three years apart, and he still knows me well enough to guess what’s on my mind.
Then he moves for the door along with the rest of the guys. Only Connor stays.
“Connor, you too.”
“Run, dog!” Mason tries to provoke him, which is never hard to achieve.
