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“I…” Kit manages. “He… he has to be but…”
“He’s dead,” I say, firmer now. “There’s no way he’s alive. Not like that. It isn’t possible.”
“It isn’t.”
“But he’s moving,” I say. “You do see that. I’m not hallucinating.”
“You’re not.”
“What exactly do you see?”
Kit swallows, glances over, and then turns away. “His hand is moving. His mouth is moving. His head is turned our way.”
Exactly what I’m seeing. I should be relieved. I’m not losing my mind. I am not relieved. I am the farthest possible point from relieved.
Let me be wrong. Let me be hallucinating. Even let me have lost my mind, fallen over the edge of reality and plunged into madness. That is better than this.
“On the bluff,” I say. “His wife’s… Her head. Her eyes opened. Her mouth moved. Someone—something—ripped her apart and stuck her head on a—”
I scramble to my feet, pulling him up with me. “Inside. We need to get inside. Now!”
Kit doesn’t answer. He just grabs my arm, and we run.
TWENTY-FIVE
We’re at the patio when a voice from the forest shouts, “What the hell are you doing?”
It’s Garrett. Kit ignores him, but I shout back, “Get in the house.”
We near the door to see Madison running for it from the inside, having heard us. She jabs the security panel as I reach for the sliding-door handle. A hand grabs my shoulder, and I barely have time to spin around before Kit’s fist flies out. It hits Garrett in the jaw, and the bigger man stumbles and then bounces back with a snarl of rage. Garrett swings, but Kit grabs his wrist and twists it away.
“You donottouch her,” Kit says. “You do notevertouch her.”
He shoves Garrett away. Madison has the door open, and Kit nudges me through while watching for Garrett to come at him. Garrett does, but it takes a moment. He didn’t expect that from Kit. Oh, Kit might be a tech CEO and a band kid, but he was also captain of the football team in high school. Never the guy spoiling for a fight, he’s always been the one getting between two guys who are. That’s why he made captain. He was the player who commanded the most respect… while not being afraid to get in the quarterback’s face if he had to. When Garrett does bounce back, it’s only to wrench the door from Kit’s hand.
“What the hell are you doing?” Garrett says. “My sister is outthere.” He jabs a finger at the forest.
“Get inside,” I say.
“I am not—”
“Get the fuck inside, Garrett,” I say. “Or I am locking that door and leaving you out there with Sadie and whatever the hell did that to her.”
“A bomb did that—”
“Inside.Now.”
He moves past the door, just enough for Kit to get it shut and me to arm the security system.
“A bomb didnotdo that to Sadie,” I say. “And I think we all know it. You saw the shed. A bomb didn’t destroy my…” I trail off as I see Madison watching.
I freeze. I need Garrett to know what’s out there. If he chooses to still search for Sadie, that is up to him, but he must know what we saw. Yet there is no way in hell I’m painting that picture for Madison.
“Mads?” Kit says. “I could ask you to come and make dinner with me, but you’re not a child. You’d know exactly what I’m doing, and you deserve to be treated like the young adult you are.”
My gut clenches, and I’m ready to leap in before he tells her anything.
He continues, “So I’m going to be bluntly honest. Laney and I really do not want you to hear this. I can give you the basics while we make that dinner, but we don’t want you hearing the details, and if that pisses you off?” He shrugs. “Then it pisses you off. I’m sorry, but you are not listening to this conversation.”
