Page 35

Pearl

I slipped on my shoes by the clubhouse door, and Shay was right behind me as she held a sweatshirt tight against her chest, her red hair braided back. Lost leaned by the entrance, waiting for us. His arms were crossed, and he was watching the tree line like it might jump out and bite him.

“I don’t know why I’m nervous to meet Bernice,”

Shay muttered.

“She sounds terrifying and hilarious.”

“She’s... a lot,”

I admitted.

“But in the best way. You’ll love her.”

Lost fell into step behind us as we made our way toward the cabins, and our boots crunched softly on the gravel. Anchor and Skull had taken off not ten minutes earlier to do a sweep around the island and check the cameras, leaving us under strict orders not to wander far. But Anchor had said Shay needed to feel at home, and Bernice was part of that.

As we neared Bernice’s cabin, something immediately felt off. The porch light wasn’t on, and the screen door was hanging crooked.

I slowed.

“That doesn’t look right…”

Shay stepped closer behind me.

“Is that…?”

“Bob?”

I called out.

Then I saw him.

Bob was sprawled on the front steps, slumped against the railing. Blood soaked through his shirt, painting a grotesque smear down his front and pooling on the wood beneath him. His throat—Jesus Christ, his throat—had a deep, jagged slash, and his eyes fluttered like he was trying to fight the darkness.

“Oh my God!”

I screamed.

Shay rushed forward and dropped to her knees beside him.

“Bob, Bob, look at me!”

She took her sweatshirt and pressed it against his throat. Her hands were shaking but steady.

“We need something tighter! Pearl—”

“Call Anchor,”

Lost barked, already dropping beside Bob.

My fingers scrambled in my pocket, nearly dropping my phone twice. I hit Anchor’s name, and it barely rang once before he picked up.

“Pearl—”

“Someone got Bob!”

I screamed into the phone.

“His throat’s slit; he’s… he’s bleeding out! I don’t know if he’s going to make it!”

“Where are you?”

Anchor demanded.

“Bernice’s cabin,”

I gasped.

“We’re at Bernice’s—”

“On our way. Don’t go inside.”

The line went dead.

Lost had his phone out and was barking into it to get to Bernice’s cabin.

I could hear shouting in the background through the line. Chairs scraping. Men cussing. The roar of action coming to life.

My stomach twisted.

“Bernice,”

I whispered.

I turned to the cabin. The door was completely off its hinges and leaned against the side of the cabin like it had been torn from the frame.

“Pearl,”

Lost called.

“Don’t, don’t go in there!”

I ignored him.

My legs moved on their own as I ran up the steps and into the cabin. My eyes swept the living room. Couch overturned. A lamp shattered in the corner. One of Bernice’s slippers, a ridiculous fuzzy yellow one, lay on its side by the coffee table. There was a struggle. A bad one.

“Bernice?”

I called out.

A soft groan came from the back.

I followed it. Heart pounding.

The bathroom door was ajar. Light flickered above. And then I saw her.

Bernice.

She was on the floor, crumpled in a pool of blood. Her blue muumuu was soaked through, torn at the side. One yellow slipper on her foot. Blood smeared the white tile, and her hands weakly tried to press at the gash in her stomach.

“Oh my God, Bernice!”

I dropped to my knees next to her.

“Pearl,”

she gasped.

“I’m here,”

I choked out.

“It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

I pressed my hands over hers, trying to add pressure to the bleeding, but it just kept coming.

“Help is on the way. You’re gonna be okay.”

She blinked slowly. Her face was pale.

“You need to…”

“I need to what?”

I sobbed.

“Bernice, stay with me. We’re gonna get you help.”

Footsteps thundered into the cabin.

“Pearl!”

Cross yelled. He knelt down beside us, his hands immediately going to the wound.

“This isn’t good. We need to get her to the hospital now.”

“She’s gonna make it,”

I said, more to myself than anyone else.

Bernice’s fingers twitched beneath mine.

“Pearl…”

she whispered.

“I’m right here.”

“You need to find…”

“Find what?” I cried.

“Ambulances are eight minutes out!”

Vin called as he ran into the cabin.

“Bob’s still breathing, but barely.”

“Same here,”

Cross gritted.

Bernice’s breathing grew shallow, her chest barely moving.

“Find what?”

I begged.

“Bernice, what do I need to find?”

Her eyes met mine. “Her.”

And then…

Her eyes didn’t blink again.

She stilled.

Gone.

“No!”

I screamed.

“No, no, no!”

I threw myself back against the wall, and tears streamed down my face.

“Why? Why her? Why did it have to be her?”

Cross sat back on his heels and wiped his eyes with a blood-soaked hand.

“She’s gone,”

he said quietly.

“Son of a bitch!”

Vin hollered and slammed a hand against the wall.

There was a roar of noise outside, and then a voice that split the air.

“Where is she?!”

Anchor.

He barreled into the cabin, Skull and Prime right behind him. His eyes scanned the room and then locked on me.

“Pearl—” he said.

I couldn’t speak. Couldn’t move.

He was beside me in an instant and pulled me off the floor and into his arms. I collapsed against his chest and sobbed as he held me tightly.

“She’s gone,”

I whispered.

“She’s gone, Anchor. Why her?”

Anchor cursed and pressed a kiss to the top of my head and held me like he could shield me from everything.

The wail of sirens screamed in the distance.

But they were too late.

We were too late.

Bernice was gone.

Bob was barely holding on.

And someone was still out there.