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They both held on to her for a long second, aggression flickering like lightning between them.
Then Chris let go and stepped back as if it was nothing.
Hunter’s hand remained on her forearm, steady and secure. His fingers were warm, and now that she wasn’t sitting in the water, she realized how cold the night air was.
But he was still staring at Chris.
She felt like she should send them to opposing corners or something. “How did you find us?” she said.
Hunter took a breath—then shook his head. “You’re soaked and it’s cold. Let’s walk.”
She started to follow him toward the grass, but Chris hung back. “We should stick to the beach,” he said.
Did he think they were still in danger? Her eyes flashed to his.
Chris pointed to her feet. “You don’t have shoes.”
Oh.
So they walked. Hunter hung near, his arm still supporting her, though she stayed close for warmth now rather than any need for assistance. Chris walked in the surf, splashing with every step. Casper bounded ahead of them, jumping in and out of the water, circling back every few feet.
“You didn’t meet me at the car,” said Hunter. “Yours was still there, so I knew you weren’t blowing me off. I came inside to find you—”
“You didn’t come in his car?” said Chris, and there was no ignoring the sudden interest in his voice.
Hunter ignored him. “I found Quinn. She said you’d taken your keys. Someone else said they’d seen you go out back. By the time I got there, I saw the wind knock the fire drums over—” He stopped short and glared out at Chris, who was walking in deeper water, splashing hard with each step. “For god’s sake, what are you, six? Could you walk on the beach?”
“Suck it, punk. It’s cold.”
It was cold. She hugged her elbows to her body and tried not to shiver.
Hunter just sighed, but he moved fractionally closer. “I saw that Tyler guy. I heard the gunfire. I saw him shooting into the water, and I knew it had to be you.”
“How?”
The moonlight caught the rings in his eyebrow and made them shine. His voice was low, too low to carry past her ears. “Because I saw the way he went after you at the pet store.”
She said nothing, chilled now by more than just the air.
“So,” he said, facing forward again. “I followed the direction of the tide and told Casper to find you.” He paused, and she heard an odd note in his voice. She wondered if he’d been expecting to find a body. “We should probably call the cops.”
“Narc,” said Chris.
Hunter threw a glance his way. “Suck it, punk,” he mocked.
“Whatever.” Chris bent and pulled a stick out of the surf. Becca had no idea how he’d even seen it in the dark. But he whistled, caught Casper’s attention, and threw it down the beach.
The dog galloped away, his paws making wet sounds in the sand.
“You don’t think we should call the police?” she asked Chris.
“And tell them what?” Darkness hid his expression, but the derision in his tone was clear.
She could see the fires on the beach behind Drew’s house now. The flames had fallen to small piles of burning debris, barely flickering in the breeze off the water. The stretch of sand was empty of the kids that had been there before.
She looked up at Hunter. “Do you think it’s safe to go back?”
“Tyler and his friends are gone. They headed north, the way they came.”
