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The only way to kill off that floating feeling is a drink.
Maz is in a bad mood over some project she has to work on.
Birdie legit has PMS and she’s emotional.
She sits in a chair under a blanket and is listening to sad songs, tearing up, questioning life.
I feel myself getting buzzed and decide to take my guitar for a walk.
I’m feeling extra bold so I go back to the same pavilion as before.
I open the guitar case and take out the beautiful and expensive guitar.
I laugh and shake my head.
“If Jaci from two years ago could only see me now,” I whisper.
I begin to strum the guitar.
Chord after chord, feeling the smooth strings, neck and the heavy sound.
I think about singing.
For a second.
When that second passes, I stop playing guitar.
That’s when a figure steps from the shadows.
Archer.
My teeth chatter.
Fear fills my body head to toe.
I catch myself holding the guitar out.
Offering it to Archer.
“Going to break this one too?” I ask.
“You must have lots of money hidden, huh?” Archer asks.
“Yeah, that’s me. I’m filthy rich and hide it all. You figured me out, Archer.”
I see his right hand.
He’s holding a knife again.
I hold up my hand and show off the bandage. “Coming to finish the job finally?”
“Soon, sweet thing,” his rough voice says.
Now it’s not fair at all…
The sound of his voice in the pavilion carries.
The vodka I drank earlier convinces me that Archer’s mean voice is the sexiest thing in the world.
