“Come on, Mags, let’s get you fixed up.” Derek scooped me up and set me on the bench.
God, look at me. Clinging to my ex’s best friend instead of my new boyfriend.
“Arms up.” He peeled my soaked linen dress off me and handed me a towel. “Popcorn or Rice Krispie Bars tonight?”
I looked up to him, almost unable to make eye contact. “Derek?”
“Hmm?” He pressed a cool cloth to my cuts.
“Why don’t you ever send me in? You know? Have me admitted?”
“Because I’ve been there. Where you are right now.”
“Really?”
“Remember how I told you I was stood up at the altar?”
I nodded.
“Graham took two weeks off and chilled at my loft, making sure I ate. Slept. Showered. Making it not quite as hard. We didn’t talk about her. He took the battery out of my phone, and we just chilled. Distracting me from my problem. I know I can’t do that one hundred percent since your constant reminder lives with you… But I can be here when you need me. Take the edge off. Pick up the pieces.”
“Thank you.”
“This is just a momentary setback. It will all be over before you know it.” He stood in the doorway and waited for me to dress. “Besides, have you seen the paranormal shit that goes on in the psych ward?”
I shook my head.
“You don’t want to. Freaky as shit.”
chapter 3
CROSSFIRE
Graham
“Where are you, man?”Derek’s voice cracked through the speaker on my phone.
“Just entered the city limits on Atlantic Ave.” I rubbed the sleep from my eyes as I took back over control of my body and Silas returned to the passenger seat. “Is she still okay?”
“Yeah, I’m over here now. But Graham, there’s something you should?—”
“Stay with her. I’ve got to stop at Pier 84. Nettles said Linda found another girl.”
“Graham, wait?—”
Click.
Asshole move, I know. But whatever he needed to tell me would have to wait.
The truck rumbled to a stop, exhaust hissing into the brittle December air. Frost clung to the edges of the pier, the boards slickwith sea mist. Beyond the cordon of uniforms, I spotted Linda—her face pale, horrified, lips moving like she’d already prayed herself raw.
Cops were crowding her, shielding her from the girl on the pier—Maggie’s doppelgänger.
I’d barely swung my leg out when Linda saw me.
“Get in the mirror, Silas.”
He did as I asked just before Linda shoved past two officers and barreled straight into me, clutching my hands like she’d drown without the grip. Her breath hitched, broken, close to hyperventilating.
