AllFreeNovel
Share Us
But selfish is as selfish does, and I’m nothing if not the worst version of myself these days.
“You’re lying! You feel her. I know you do. Tell them the truth! Tell them!” I’m shouting raggedly, his collar twisted in my grip. I don’t even remember grabbing him.
And all I can think when I look at the round, shocked and wounded amber eyes of the boy who’s been my best friend since I was six—the boy I’ve secretly vowed to protect amongst all else—the boy who is currently looking back at me like I’m a stranger…
This is all his fault.
That’s what runs through my head.
This is his fault.
I lost her because of him…
Because of what I felt for him that night.
Because of what I did.
Hands grip my shoulders, trying to pull me away. Ray’s saying something, but I can’t hear him—I can’t hear anything over the roar in my ears as my world crumbles around me.
“YOU PROMISED!” I scream.
And a single tear, the first I’ve ever seen from him, slips down Jeremy’s cheek.
My hands are shaking around his collar—bone-white where the knuckles push against his skin.
“You promi?—”
Faster than I can blink, a hand comes up, cracking me across the face.
The sound echoes, ringing out into the now-silent kitchen.
So quiet, it’s all I can hear. Even the roar in my ears I can’t help but notice is gone, as I blink blankly at the black glass reflecting this awful scene. Peering back at me, the darkened eyes of a stranger.
The hands that were gripping my shoulder and back fall away, just as Jeremy scrambles to a stand, kicking his chair back hard against the window. In the black, glassy reflection, I watch more than feel as he shoves me out of the way in his haste to bolt from the kitchen.
Someone calls after him, but he’s already gone.
Eva’s crying into her folded arms, and Ray’s twisting side to side, darting looks from the hall to his wife and back again. Detective Morris mutters something about excusing himself, and the urge to punch him in the face is strong…
But the urge to chase after Jeremy proves stronger.
Especially when I hear the front door slam shut a moment later.
Whirling toward the open archway, I’m stopped by Waylon darting in front of me, hands raised. “Just?—”
Behind me, Ray says roughly, “Stay put. Let me.”
I ignore them both, as well as their attempts to physically stop me.
One second, I’m in the kitchen. And the next I’m racing down the hall, sneakers smacking off the hardwood as I race for the front door.
Throwing it open, I stumble out onto the front porch, eyes wide and unblinking as I sweep my gaze over the driveway.
The detective in the black unmarked car is still here, but I pay him no notice.
I only have eyes for the boy hunched over in the middle of the driveway up ahead, his blond hair lit up silver by the shadows of night. With the exception of that and his pale hands sneaking out from under the sleeves of his oversized shirt, he blends with the night, dressed in black head to toe like he’s already in mourning.
Down the steps, and out from under the awning, raindrops crash against my cheeks. Wind blows at my hair, tossing it about. But just like the detective sitting in the car, and the footsteps and voices chasing after me, I ignore everything but the figure huddled in the rain, seemingly gasping for air.
