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I’m dying.
Or maybe I’m already dead.
But somehow, I can still see the man who emerges smoothly from the vehicle, dressed all in black. He should be wearing a mask, but it’s gone now. I can see every detail of his features. The lines in his forehead. His round face. The small dimple in his chin. His hazel eyes look pleasant even now—even as he’s committing a murder, stealing a life.
He walks over to me and crouches down, running his hands over my broken body before stopping at my neck to feel for a pulse.
There isn’t one.
I am dead.
But somehow, he knows I’m still watching him.
Something like amusement dances in Hollowell’s clear hazel eyes, and he lifts a finger to his lips.
Warning me to stay silent.
I snap awake in a cold sweat, sucking in a shocked gasp. Muddy dawn light filters in through the blinds, and for a horrible, terrifying moment, I have no idea where I am.
My heart thuds erratically in my chest, and my skin prickles with cold despite the two warm bodies next to me.
Warm bodies.
Dax and Chase.
The fear drains out of me, and I relax a little, coming out of the haze of the nightmare.
Fuck.
My heartbeat slowly returns to normal, and I peer at the twins sleeping next to me. Both of their bodies are still curled against mine, arms slung loosely over me. I shift my gaze from one to the other, noticing the slight differences and similarities in their features. Just like their personalities, it’s those little differences between their looks that make it impossible for anyone who knows them well to ever mistake one for the other.
Dax’s features are a little heavier, his shoulders a little more broad. It seems to match his character since, out of the two of them, he’s the one more prone to seriousness—although both of the Lauder boys can be total goofballs.
He’s got a little scar above his right eyebrow, barely noticeable but there, and I want to know how he got it. I doubt it was from playing football, considering the disdain he seems to have for Trent, Linwood Academy’s star quarterback. But maybe it was from some other sport. Dax strikes me as the type who would’ve been an athletic kid. Both he and Chase always seem to have energy to burn.
My gaze shifts to Chase, and his bergamot scent tickles my nostrils as I study him carefully. He’s got the same strong jaw, straight nose, and golden skin as his brother, but his features are just a little sharper, a bit more angular. Even in sleep, a small smile curves his lips, and I unconsciously mirror it.
This boy was born to smile. He was born to be happy, and unlike some people, whose happiness is reliant on external circumstances, on achievements and wealth and status, I think Chase could find happiness no matter where he is, no matter what life throws at him.
I like that. I don’t think I’m the same way, but having him in my life reminds me that happiness like that is possible.
As I gaze at him, the smile on his lips spreads wider, and his eyes suddenly pop open, clear azure irises shining.
“Quit starin’, ya perv.”
I yelp softly in surprise. Shit. How long has he been awake?
Dax’s arms tighten around me from the other side. “She’s probably just trying to figure out how identical twins can have a hot one and an ugly one.”
“Oh, come on,” Chase shoots back, grinning at me before glancing over my shoulder at his brother. “She’d never call you ugly to your face.”
Chuckling, I burrow deeper into their arms as they banter back and forth, good-naturedly disparaging each other’s hideous features.
I forgot the twins go from dead asleep to wide awake in seconds. The past few weeks at River’s house, I’ve gotten used to waking up in stages and giving him a bit of time to rejoin the land of the living before making any attempt at conversation.
Dax and Chase are like a mug of strong coffee upside the head.
The three of us stay in bed for a while, until the room brightens around us.
