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She steps back and starts picking at her nails again, and I immediately place my hands on top of hers to prevent her from hurting herself. She huffs with annoyance, but I don’t care.

“He killed you. Now I’ll kill him. Where is he?” I growl.

I’m on a mission now, and I won’t stop until I complete it.

“You can’t be serious?” She asks.

“Serious as a heart attack.” I say.

“Once you learn the In-Between and what it takes to move across the Veil, you can practically do anything… and I intend on doing this. Now, where is he?”

“As far as I know, he’s still living at the motel.” She blurts and promptly covers her mouth. “Perfect. I know where we’re staying tonight.”

CHAPTER 11

LYRIC

Ican’t believe he’s taking me back there. Not just back to the motel, but back to the very room that became my tomb. I feel like I’m going to be sick. I don’t know what Atticus’s plan is, but I trust him enough to follow his lead. He wouldn’t put me in harm’s way. I think.

I don’t know what it is about him that makes me feel so safe. Maybe because I feel like I’ve known him my entire life, or maybe it’s because he’s the first male in my life to take care of me. He seems to be the definition of “if he wanted to, he would”, and it gives me even more confidence in him than I probably should have.

The silence between us is just as loud as the world is. The sun has set. Crickets and cicadas chirp in the distance, and the lights downtown pave the way. When we reach the motel, I guide Attie to my old room. I press my ear to the frozen metal door. It always gets so cold at night. Whose Line Is It Anyway? blares through the threshold and I hear popcorn popping in the microwave. Feet scuffle across the carpet, and a low, muffled male voice slithers through the cracks.

It’s him.

I glance at Attie and nod my head, confirming we’re at the right room. He grabs my forearm, gentle but firm.

“Don’t let go,” he says.

I nod again, and I’m yanked abruptly through the steel door and into the crime scene. The descent makes me feel dizzy.

All I can think about as I scan the room is how vile the stench is in here. Trash sits in messy piles on the floor. Old food is molding in the bathroom sink next to the toothpaste that looks like it’s been unused since I died. Beer bottles litter the countertops and side tables, and pornographic magazines peek from under stiff pillows.

Holy shit.

I thought he was disgusting beforehand, but this is beyond what I could have imagined.

Then it gets worse when I see… her.

Me.

Covered in dried blood, with maggots and flies spilling from every orifice, rotting from underneath the bed. My hair is crusty and matted to what’s left of my face. My skeleton protrudes from beneath a sheet of skin, and a multicolored liquid seeps from what’s left of my body and into the carpet. I pinch my nose and violently gag at the sight.

Attie reacts as soon as he registers the sound and what I’m looking at. He quickly stands in front of me and holds me to his chest. His scent instantly soothes me.

“Jesus, Lyr. Did you know? I mean… do you remember?”

Memories come flooding in singular moments, like each act was a scene of its own.

“No, not until just now.” I sigh.

“He beat me to death, Attie.”

My body shakes as tears well in my eyes as I mourn the girl I was.

I pause, and when he says nothing, I continue, pointing under the bed, “He’s so fucking lazy, he didn’t even bother to dispose of my body. Look at this shit–stuffed under the bed like an old toy that no one wants to play with anymore.”

Attie’s jaw tenses and he kisses the top of my head.