Page 258 of Trick or Stalk

That's the fucking problem.

The SUV's taillights disappear down the long drive.

I stay where I am.

For once, I let Presley leave.

“Fuck.” Wilder's voice comes from behind me.

I don't turn around.

He stops beside me.

For several seconds, neither of us speaks.

Then he says, “I fucked up.”

I stare after the disappearing taillights. “Yeah. But it was my fucking fault.”

He doesn’t say anything for a beat.

Then he says, “I'm sorry.”

“I know.”

Wilder goes quiet again.

After a few more minutes pass, he asks, “Are you going after her?”

Every part of me wants to.

“No.”

He looks at me.

“She told me not to.”

Silence.

I can feel him staring at me.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Don't.”

“I didn't say anything,” he says.

“You're thinking loudly.”

Usually he'd have some smart-ass response. This time, he doesn't.

Instead, he shoves his hands in his pockets. “She knows?”

“Yeah.”

“Everything?”