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Posie stands by the open trunk, staring at me closely. My knuckles ache for relief as the man’s body starts to slip from my hold.
“Shit,” Reign snaps, coming up beside me, his hand slipping beneath the body. I step back, staring at him.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
He shakes his head, and he and Archer step up to the trunk, bending over to drop him inside. Archer growls under his breath, wiping his hands on his pants before he turns to me. “What we fucking do for you. Fucking honestly.”
He shuts the trunk, stalking toward the driver’s side door and slipping inside. My chest tightens, and I wonder when the killings will stop. When all the death and pranks and destruction will finally end.
“Lakyn,” Reign rasps, his fingers curling around my waist. He pulls me against him, and my breath catches as my head cocks back, my eyes locking with his.
The night sky above us is dark, yet the moon is bright, as it feels like it shines directly over our house.
“Reign,” I murmur against him.
His fingers slide down the arch of my neck, the tips dancing along my collarbone, just barely caressing the skin before he drives his fingers into my hair, holding me hostage. “You always seem to find yourself in trouble.”
My eyes shutter closed, and I breathe in his dangerous, masculine scent as irritation licks at the edges of my voice. “I’m not searching for it, Reign. It seems to follow me.”
He lifts a brow, watching me closely. “How will you protect yourself if he comes back for you?”
My insides warm. I know who he’s talking about.
He will come for me, though he won’t hurt me.
“He won’t.” I say the words, hoping the affection between me and the masked man doesn’t show through.
He hums, his fingers adding pressure against my jaw. “You seem so certain about a man who leaves death at your doorstep, baby Lake.”
“He plays games. They are cruel games, but that’s all they are.”
His fingers leave my body, and I yearn for it, desperate for more.
“Let’s go,” Creed snaps, his hand slapping on the roof of the car. He grabs onto the doorframe, using it to swing inside.
I want to say more. I feel like there are always so many words left unsaid between us. But we’ve got a body to bury right now, which means it’s time to go.
“This is so fucked up,” Eloise whispers.
I shake my head, my limbs numb as I sit in the middle of the fisherman’s boat Kyler rented from an old man at the docks. The thing is rusted, the motor barely attached and functioning. It’s cold, too late at night, and too late in the season to just be hanging out on a boat in the middle of the night.
But here we are.
“How far are we going out?” Posie’s teeth chatter as she sits beside me, both of our shivers working as one.
“We need to be out of sight,” Archer grunts, steering the boat into the distance. He turns around the corner, until the tall trees along the coast grow denser, the air turning thicker, and the sky darker.
“Here,” Kyler says, grabbing the rope and twisting it around his wrist.
Creed stands, lifting the rock from the end of the boat that he grabbed from offshore. He sets it in his lap, sitting down as he faces Kyler. Kyler squats down, wobbling foot to foot as the boat settles to a stop.
The sound of the water lapping against the sides of the boat and the slight rocking makes my insides twist and turn.
“What are you going to do?” Vienna whispers, staring at Kyler’s hands as he wraps the rope around the man’s ankles. Creed takes the other end of the rope, twisting and wrapping it around the heavy rock.
Realization hits me of what they’re about to do. Tie him to a rock and drop him to the bottom of the ocean.
My throat constricts, and I grab at my neck as I take a deep breath.
