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“C’mon, man. Please.” I frantically shook him again, but his body was limp and cold.
I reached into my pocket for my phone and turned the flashlight on to get a better look at his condition. My blood instantly froze in my veins.
This wasn’t a head injury from Troy getting drunk and passing out on the floor. His jersey was shredded and drenched in blood, and several puncture marks were visible on his neck. Someone had stabbed him multiple times.
It was already too late to save him.
A dizzying blend of fear and confusion washed over me. At the same time, my heart pounded like a sledgehammer in my chest, the desperate thud of its rhythm echoing in my ears.
Someone had broken into the lake house, and now we were all in terrible danger. I had to help Sienna make it out of here. Had to help everyone else, too… if anyone else was even alive at this point. It had just occurred to me that the moans and whimpers I’d heard earlier were probably the sounds of one of my other friends getting attacked. Maybe even more than one of them.
Fuck, this guy probably wanted us all dead. But who was he? And why? What the fuck did any of us do to deserve this?
With shaking hands, I quietly sent a text to 911, giving them the address of the house and begging them to send police and ambulances immediately. I knew there was no way I could make a regular call, because if there was still a killer right here in the house, they might hear me and come after me. And if I was dead, I couldn’t keep Sienna safe.
I slid my phone back into my pocket and crept into the kitchen to grab the biggest knife I could find. Then I headed back upstairs, panic surging through me. When I reached the third floor landing, I peered down the hall in both directions. It was empty for now.
Breathing a small sigh of relief, I crept back into the bedroom I was sharing with Sienna.
“Sienna,” I said, hurrying over to her side of the bed. I was so fucking scared for her that my voice was almost cracking. “You need to wake up.”
She was already awake. She peeked out from under the blankets and looked up at me. “What’s going on?” she asked. “I heard weird noises. Did someone break in?”
I nodded frantically. At the same time, I put my finger to my lips, urging her to keep her voice low. Lightning flashed, briefly illuminating the room. “You have to run, or he’ll kill you too,” I said in an urgent whisper, words spilling out of me so fast they almost ran together. “You need to get—”
As I frantically attempted to explain, a scream tore from Sienna’s throat, and she leapt out of bed and sprinted across the room. It was only then that I realized what I looked like—drenched in blood and brandishing an enormous kitchen knife. She probably thought I was the one who’d lost my mind and gone on a rampage.
My choice of words wasn’t the best, either. Why the fuck did I say it like that? I was petrified and panicking, so it was difficult to string together a coherent sentence, but still, I should’ve blurted out something a little less fucked up.
“Sienna!” I hurried after her as she dashed down the hall. “Stop!”
She kept fleeing, heading directly for the stairs. I rushed after her, scared that she’d run face-first into the killer and end up with a knife in her guts.
She reached the landing and flew down the staircase. I reached the same landing a few seconds later. At the same time, a shadow appeared in the corner of my eye. I snapped my head around to see a tall, hooded figure emerging from Callie’s room, directly across the hall from the landing.
The figure quickly advanced on me, holding a knife out in front of them. I whipped my head around to make sure Sienna was still running down the stairs to safety, and then I turned back to confront the killer.
Their right arm suddenly shot out to shove me in the chest. I flew backwards into thin air, a panicked grunt tearing from my lungs. I felt myself falling and falling, and then the back of my head cracked against something hard. That was the last thing I remembered before my eyes closed and my mind drifted into oblivion.
Blackout.
Sienna
“I’m so sorry.” My voice was barely above a whisper, and I couldn’t look Paxton in the eye. How could I ever do that again?
God, how could I ever look anyone in the eye again?
The weight of the guilt pressed on my chest like a vise, suffocating me. For so long, I thought I was nothing more than a hapless victim. Not part of the problem. I was so sure of it that I’d never let myself stop and think for even a second that everyone else might be right—that maybe Paxton actually did nothing wrong.
Tears welled in my eyes as my mind replayed every moment leading up to the accusation I made against him, every detail etched in painful clarity. I couldn’t even imagine the pain and heartbreak I forced him to endure because of my mistake. All those weeks withering away in jail, wondering if and when he’d ever be free. The loss of so many friends and family. The tarnishing of his reputation and the loss of his livelihood and future.
At the time, I’d watched his world unravel with a stony-faced sense of relief, certain that I’d done the right thing. Now, I was haunted by the knowledge of the suffering I caused. I nearly destroyed an innocent man’s life. I’d destroyed his soul, too. He was so sweet and pure all those years ago, and my actions had irreparably changed that.
“I’m so sorry,” I repeated in a broken whisper, face crumpling as tears slid down my face. “Paxton, I’m so sorry.”
He didn’t reply.
“I don’t even know what to say. Just… I’m sorry,” I choked out. My whole body shook with emotion, nails digging into my palms. “Please forgive me. Please.”
