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CHAPTERTHIRTY-EIGHT
Shane
“Looking for him isn’t going to help,” I tell Snow. We’re at the Halloween Festival. The town decided to have a weeklong festival instead of just the traditional event that’s held on Friday. Everyone’s gone all-out. The contestants are doing the haunted house, Brick and Linc brought their horses, and we brought Harvey. Every business in town has a booth, giving out candy to kids, selling their wares to the parents. I think Jimmy and Mason will be setting up for the rodeo tomorrow. I love days like this, when everyone comes together—there’s only one person missing.
Snow’s been surveying the crowd, and I know she’s looking for London.
“I’m not—”
I give her a pointed look, cutting off her denial.
“Okay.” She sighs heavily. “I was and I don’t know why.”
“Because you care about him,” Afton says as he hands a cookie to a kid in a police officer costume.
“I do. Something is wrong with him.” And then she gasps.
“Snow?”
“I’m going crazy, Shane. I swear Ben is here. He’s been on set, at the house, and here. I know it’s him with a bad dye job.”
“Where did you see him?”
“Over by the beer booth.” She points in that direction.
“You’re sure?” I ask her, scanning the area near the booth.
“Yes,” she confirms. “I know it’s him.”
“We’re going to find him. Stay with Afton and Axel—you’ll be safe with them.” I kiss the top of her head, holding her for a minute.
I grab Silas and we take off in that direction, surveying the crowd. We haven’t seen Ben up close, but we have seen pictures.
When I turn the corner, I run into London with his tongue down some guy’s throat.
I stare for a moment before fake-coughing to get his attention.
“Oh, hey, Shane. Have you met Scott?” He gestures to the guy he’s with.
The guy looks disheveled, like I interrupted something.
I don’t really look in Scott’s direction. I hate him, and I don’t even know him.
Really? He wants to introduce his fuck piece when we have a crisis going on?
“No, can’t say it’s a pleasure,” I growl.
“London, we have to go,” Scott says, pulling down his cap and pivoting on his heel, quickly moving in the opposite direction.
Weird.
“London, have you ever thought about the fact that since you’ve started hanging around Scott you’ve been acting different?”
“Nope,” he says with a shitty smirk. “I’m fine. Never better.”
“Not that you care, but Ben’s here,” I hiss.
“Wait. What?” London’s face pales, and he spears his fingers through his hair.
