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She kept thinking he would surface, but he didn’t. She counted off the seconds in her head.
One, one thousand.
Two, one thousand.
Three, one thousand.
But the pool was still and her head was a seesaw,reeling and lurching, and thatnoisewas too much to bear and she—
Everly felt the crack against her cheek, then a deep stinging. Her head whipped to the side, and there was the bloom of copper against her tongue.
It was only when she managed to turn her head back, dazed, that she realized the smaller of the two men was standing in front of her. That he’d grabbed her at some point, though she couldn’t seem to recall when.
And, more important, that he’d slapped her across the face.
“Keep screaming,” the man invited her without any particular inflection, which made her shiver against her will. “I’ll hit you in the face until you pass out.”
She believed him. And nothing good could possibly come of being unconscious around these people. It was begging for the kind of trouble her mind shied away from fully visualizing.
He grabbed her under one arm and hauled her up from the ground, then began to drag her back toward the house. It was instantly clear to her that he didn’t care if he hurt her, and for a moment, she didn’t care if he did, either.
The pool stayed still.
And Everly remembered a summer day a long, long time ago, back on the street where she and Blue had grown up. She’d been out playing with the neighborhood kids, but the game had gotten rough. She’d fallen, hard, and had scraped both her knees, her palms, and even her chin.
She remembered the bright streak of the pain. Her face, gritty where it pressed against the concretesidewalk. The droplets of blood—herblood. It was the first time she could remember seeing it.
And then he’d been there. Blue. Her hero.
He’d run off the other children. He’d squatted down and helped her to her feet, eyeing her as she wobbled there before him, with that steady gaze he’d had even back when he’d been a kid himself.
You’re okay,he’d told her.
Not as if he was trying to make her feel better. As if he knew. As if there was no doubt that she was perfectly okay, no matter if she was hurt from her fall. She’d wanted to believe him, but she hadn’t been able to keep her lower lip from shaking.
You’re tough,he’d said.Believe it.
He’d waited there, watching her in that same sure, steady way, until she’d stopped crying.
And then he’d walked her home.
The thug was still dragging her, but Everly managed to get her feet beneath her so she could walk. She couldn’t do anything about the grip he had on her, or the bruises she knew he was leaving on her skin. She couldn’t do anything about Blue. She couldn’t change what had happened. She couldn’t do anything—
But she could try to live a little longer.
She could try to make it out of here.
She couldtry.
Believe it,a voice said inside her, the way Blue had long ago.You’re tough.
And that was better than lying down and letting these people kill her the way they’d killed the first and last true hero she’d ever known.
The man dragged her up the stairs and into the house,and even though she wanted to so badly she could taste it, Everly didn’t look back. There would be blood, maybe. Or floating. Or—
She couldn’t go there. She couldn’t bear it.
This was the end of the road. She understood that with every cell of her body. The stalking, the break-ins, the bomb—that had all been a sick appetizer for this, the main dish.