Page 24

The past four months I’ve watched her, the smiles have become more frequent, but I can tell it’s more for show than it is real. I have a perverse want to coerce a real smile from her just before I ruin her life. Before I tell her what kind of monster her father was and what kind of monster I am. Before I cut out her heart to end all of this and get her out of my life. I need to rid myself of this hunger sooner rather than later because it’s a liability.

When your life is endless, you have to think long term. Gwyn’s kind have ruined everything I hold dear.

All I can offer her is kindness in death, a gift far greater than whatever Björn or Emile would bestow.

I am drawn out of my daze when a deer darts across the street, and I have to slam on the brakes, stalling the Chevelle. There are no other cars nearby, so nothing hits us and the deer goes on its way. It wasn’t a large deer, but it certainly wouldn’t have left the vehicle unscathed, and I’m annoyed it took me by surprise. I blow out a breath, cursing as I start the car. I glance over at Gwyn, and she is gasping for air as she holds her chest.

I had seen the clip of the hit-and-run. The speed alone when the pickup truck hit them was enough to make me flinch when Margot sent over the grainy traffic light footage. I remember being shocked Gwyn survived at all and hadn’t been surprised to see her parents died on impact.

I pull over, carefully edging into the grass on the shoulder. She needs a minute, and letting her have it will only earn me her trust and make my life easier.

“Gwyn?” I grab her shaking hand and pull it toward me. I’ve never seen any of her panic attacks in the time I’ve been watching her, but I know she has a history of them. I almost ask if she has her anxiety meds with her, but catch myself at the last second.

“I’m okay,” she says, more for herself than for me. She’s taking heaving breaths, and I turn toward her.

“With me,” I order, and I breathe deeply. She blinks at me for a second, her honey gaze so fragile that I feel sorry for her. She catches on and we exhale in tandem. I count our breaths, and her hand is no longer shaking.

“Sorry,” she whispers, drawing her hand out of mine and running it over her ponytail. She looks out the window, and I see her chin quiver as she turns. “The accident,” she says by way of explanation.

“Don’t be sorry,” I say before grabbing her hand again and resting our arms on the console between us. “You sure apologize a lot.”

She gives a watery laugh, and I know for certain she’s on the verge of tears. “Well, I feel like I should apologize forthatnow.”

“Don’t you dare,” I reply, squeezing her hand. “Want to talk about it?”

“No, I’m fine. The turn isn’t too much farther,” she says, ending the conversation. Every now and then, I’m disappointed Bill is dead because I didn’t get to kill him myself, but I can’t pretend I don’t understand the pain she feels. I only have a few memories of my mother, and her death isn’t one I like to think about.

I put the car in gear and carefully merge back onto the single lane road.

“You know, I never asked you why you applied for the photo shoot. You don’t, uh, seem like someone who needs matchmaking,” she says, changing the subject, and I can tell she’s watching me as I slow down at a blind curve.

I’d already thought about the possibility of this question.

“I don’t. Not really,” I say, keeping my eye on the road. The last sign for Lake Osman had been a few miles back, and I know it isn’t more than a mile down the road. She doesn’t come often, but she’s been here a few times since I’ve been watching her.

“Then why did you—” she starts, but I let my eyes rake up over her body and settle on her face.

“I saw your pictures and read your little interview. That’s why I applied.” I let a smile twist my lips as I hear her heart speed up. “I could ask the same question.”

“Clarke is a friend. I’m just helping with their photography project,” she explains, blushing, before she hurries to get out her next words. “Not that I didn’t want to—”

I laugh and, after I’m done shifting gears, put my hand on her thigh. “Lucky for me you’re a good friend, huh?”

“I read your bio,” she says, and her hand covers mine. Her palm is slightly clammy, and I can still hear her heart racing as I pass the final sign for Lake Osman. “I got final say, you know.”

I’m taken by surprise, and I don’t hide it.

“I thought we scored the highest,” I say. I wonder how easily this opportunity for proximity could have been taken.

“Well, Clarke didn’t tell me that,” she says, laughing as she points to the turn. It’s a long gravel road leading to the lake, and I cringe at taking this beautiful car on it. I’m relieved when I see an empty parking lot not too far down the way. “Clarke sent over my options, and I read everyone’s blurbs. Hale dug through everyone’s socials.”

I turn into the gravel lot, and she tugs her foot up onto the dash to retie her shoelaces. She has long fingers ending in tapered nails, scarlet nail polish replacing the black she’d worn the week before. The visual of her scratching them down my back assaults me, and I feel my canines lengthen. I desperately focus on what she’s saying to force them to recede.

“Hale is like the damn FBI when it comes to looking into someone. Of the five people Clarke showed me, one woman had criminal complaints from her partner for domestic violence, another guy had an outstanding warrant in Ohio, and the other woman had just turned eighteen. No thank you. So that left you and one other person,” she says before sitting up and reaching for the door handle. “You ready?”

“So I get to hang out with you today because of the process of elimination? What made you pick me?” I ask, grinning at her as I push my hair out of my face.

“Look at you,” she says, shrugging. “You could ruin my life, and I’d ask you to do it again.” As she moves, I hesitate for a minute and watch her round ass as she gets out. She has no fucking idea. I’m distracted and considering things I don’t have any fucking sense to consider when the glint from Rose’s necklace catches my eye. My teeth snap to full length, and I nearly hiss in pain.