Page 25

Chapter 24

Juliet

My lungs heave, aching for air as I hobble through the darkness.

That night, it was Autumn’s blood trickling down my leg. Tonight, it’s mine, a gash in my shin from where I crawled out of the window after breaking it, using my shoe to smash through the glass. A shard embedded itself in my skin, now my only weapon.

I smashed the glass as soon as I heard that gunshot. I don’t know who shot who, but I do know Trey didn’t have a gun on him, and his father did.

He could be wounded, alone with his serial killer father, bleeding out and needing my help.

I hope my scream buys him some time. I hope it’s not too late.

No . I shove the bubble of panic down. We’re going to make it off this island. Alive. Both of us.

His mother didn’t save me, didn’t sacrifice her life, just so I could bring her son back to this island to suffer the same fate.

Unlike all those years ago, no one shouts for me. No one calls my name into the darkness. No one jeers about what they’ll do to me when they find me.

Another gunshot pops off somewhere behind. Two. Three. Four.

My chest clenches. Someone is dead. There’s no way they could survive five bullets.

Please. Not Trey ?—

A lone flashlight scans the yard. But Trey’s voice doesn’t call out to me. He’s not the one searching for me.

He’s not the one who fired that gun.

I slap my hand across my mouth, covering my sob. Not Trey . Not the devil to my demon. Not the Romeo to my Juliet. My masked man. The one I’ve been searching for. Whose darkness matches mine.

We can’t have come back to this island, we can’t have come this far, only for me to lose him too.

My heart shatters as my hand lands on the rough bark of a tree, knees growing too weak to keep me upright. The flashlight approaches, and I stumble back into a shallow pool of water.

Just as I did that night. But this time, Trey’s mother isn’t here to save me.

No one is.

The beam of the flashlight gets terrifyingly closer. Another shot fires to scare me out of my hiding place, making my ears ring even from this distance.

Trey is dead. And I’m next.

A hand clamps over my mouth.

My heart stops as I whip around to find my assailant?—

A familiar pair of lupine green eyes. A finger held up to the full, devastating lips I ache to kiss again.

Trey .

I fling my arms around him, weak with relief, vision blurry. He’s alive .

Relief barrels through me, and all I can do is sob silently into his shoulder.

I haven’t lost him.

His temple is swollen, but he’s not bleeding. He hasn’t been shot.

But if he’s not the one with the gun, who was his father shooting?

When I open my mouth to ask, Trey’s finger against his lips instructs me to keep quiet.

Another shot makes me jump. A hollow thud like the bullet struck a tree.

Trey takes my hand and silently guides me out of the water.

An eerie voice calls into the darkness, “Come out, come out, little girl.”