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And he wanted to keep her as far away from trouble as possible. She wasn’t sure she liked that, but she understood. “What about the girl?”
His expression was grim. “We can’t help her if we’re dead.”
Holy shit. That thought honestly had crossed her mind. Sure, the commune was a weird place, but they all preached love and harmony and peace. They didn’t seem the type to kill. “Do you really think Hopeful would kill us?”
“I believe he has before—the couple that went missing right before we got here. Ben and Olivia Harrington. They didn’t just leave all of their shit and money behind. They’re dead, and if he’s done it once, he won’t have any qualms about doing it again.”
A sudden realization struck. “You think he killed Hope, too.”
“Unfortunately, yes. I’m starting to think he killed her and hid it from everyone, including his daughter. That’s why True just said her mother was missing when she called me. She didn’t know.” Cal picked up the boxes of tapes and placed it in her arms. “We’ll take everything we have to the police. There has to be something in here to incriminate Hopeful.”
God. She was in so far over her head with this. But he was right—the best thing she could do right now was to keep the car running.
He held out the car keys and held them for a moment too long when she reached to take them.
“If I don’t come out in a half hour, you don’t wait. Go tell Ash everything.”
“Cal—”
“I mean it. Leave without me.”
She swallowed hard, her fingers tightening around the keys. "You better come out, Cal Holden.”
“But if I don’t, promise me you’ll get yourself to safety.”
She looked at him, her blue eyes wide behind her glasses, her heart pounding with fear for him and for their niece. But she nodded, accepting the keys. His hand lingered on hers for a moment longer before he pulled away.
“I love you,” he said softly.
He didn’t wait for her to respond and walked out of the cabin.
She followed him, but he was already running toward the commune’s center. She threw one last look over her shoulder as he jogged in the opposite direction of their freedom, and her throat closed up.
She should’ve said it back.
Why couldn’t she say it to him?
She turned and ran toward the front gate. Razzy’s barking ricocheted behind her, staccato, almost gunshot-like, and she flinched at the undertone of fear and anger in it.
She hoped she’d have another chance to tell him.
Cal raced toward the barking, his senses on high alert. Raszta's barking was a frantic warning. If the dog could talk, he’d be screaming, “Back the fuck up!”
None of the fairy lights strung around the commune were lit and the darkness was disorienting. Shadows seemed to flit and flee at the edges of his vision.
Suddenly, Raszta yipped and silence fell.
No.
He pushed himself harder. Ahead, two shadows wrestled on the mat used as the community dining table while the rest of the commune enclosed them in a circle, watching the fight in eerie silence. Nearby, a small shadow lay on the ground, unmoving.
Raszta.
Gritting his teeth, Cal charged into the circle, breaking the onlookers apart, and he got his first clear look at the two men fighting. One was Pierce, his face a grim mask of pain and determination. The other was a Blue Robe, but his back was to Cal, and he couldn’t see his face.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Raszta start to stir and rushed over. The dog was dazed and had but seemed okay otherwise. Cal let out a breath and refocused on the fight.
Blue Robe threw a punch that collided with Pierce’s jaw. He retaliated with a swift kick to the man's side. The Blue folded in half with a umph, but it didn’t stop him. He rounded on Pierce, a knife glinting ominously in his hand.
