Page 95 of Soul So Dark

He stares back at me from the driver’s seat, looking dead behind the eyes while the girl next to him looks like she’s about to have an aneurysm. And, soon enough, she’s out the door, stumbling over the dirt in a panic until she slams into Aiden and gets dragged around the back of the car. She tries to straighten her red bikini top while her dark hair whips across her face, but only ends up pinned between Colson’s chest and a metal baseball bat.

Bowen can’t see my face, but I’m shocked a blister isn’t forming in the middle of his forehead from how hard I’m staring at him. Eventually, he exits the car more annoyed than ever. I follow him, climbing his windshield, crossing his roof, and descending over the back of his trunk, the body of the Lancer flexing and popping with each step.

I swagger along behind Bowen until he comes to a halt at the circle of slashers, looking at the girl with utter contempt. I stop at his shoulder, and while the rest of the guys have some fun scaring the hell out of her, I have some things to say of my own.

“She’s not as pretty as Dallas, is she?”

Bowen glances at me, not moving his head.

“Probably not as smart, either,” I continue. “But if you want to find out, don’t. Because I promise you, if you come anywhere near her, I won’t play games with you. And this time, they won’t find a body.”

He tilts his head slightly in my direction. “I won’t have to,” he drawls, barely moving his mouth.

The girl’s incessant whines draw my attention back to the entertainment, where Aiden’s swinging his bat in a circle at his hip. “He’ll cut off your hair, some fingers, maybe he’ll even dig your heart out of your chest,” he lists off absently.

“Because he’s such aheartbreaker,” I growl as I brush past Bowen’s shoulder.

The girl pleads with Bowen to intervene, as if he’ll do a goddamn thing.

“Aww…” my voice oozes with mockery, “she thinks he’s going to help her.”

Her cries are like nails on a chalkboard and her tears blasphemous; the most egregious insult and utter disrespect to Evie, who died by Bowen’s hand only two fucking weeks ago. These are small towns, where people talk and secrets are an acceptable form of barter. There’s no way she hasn’t heard what everyone in Dire Ridge is saying about him and his family.

And now he’s threateningmygirl…

With a jerk of my arm, I reel back and smash Bowen in the nose with my elbow. Surprised shouts and groans fill the air, punctuated with curses from Bowen as he throws his head to the side and staggers backward.

“That’s gonna leave a mark,” Josh laughs.

Bowen spits a mouthful of blood into the dirt before starting toward me, but Aiden thrusts his bat out, stopping him in his tracks.

“You’d be wise to stand there and take it like a man,” Aiden growls through the mesh of his fuzzy rabbit mouth.

Blood pours from Bowen’s nose, and while he’s distracted, I reach over Aiden’s bat and swipe my hand across Bowen’s face. Then I spin around and stalk toward his newest concubine. She lets out a screech as I smear Bowen’s blood across her cheek and over her mouth, back and forth until her face is stained pink.

The rest of them keep laughing and jeering, but I don’t hear a word of it. I’m halfway back to the Lancer, ripping my knife from my pocket and flipping open the blade. My arm swings like a pendulum as I circle the car, stabbing each of his tires. There’s a crunch, and when I arrive at the back, I catch Aiden shattering the second taillight. We watch from the bumper as Colson kneels in front of whatever-the-fuck-her-name-is and starts drawing something on her stomach. She’s lucky he’s only using a marker. But I don’t care what they’re doing now. Throw them both off the railroad bridge for all I care.

Meanwhile, Bowen waits impatiently for the spectacle to end. Standing just feet behind him, his back looks like a blank canvas, begging for a smattering of 1-inch stab wounds all over it. I could do it—right here, right now. My closest friends are here; they would help me bury his body, even Rory. I could end this tonight.

And Dallas would be safe.

Still gripping my knife, I take a step toward him. But then a tiny buzz breaks me out of my fever dream. It’s my phone vibrating in my pocket.

It’s probably her.

I glance down at my hand, and then after a few seconds, I flip the knife shut again. Clenching my jaw in frustration, I stalk past the vigilante huddle and up to the Avalanche. I throw open the door and climb into the backseat, tucking myself into the balmy silence.

Immediately, I pull out my phone and see I was right.

DALLAS (7:47PM): Omg. I’m so glad you were there.

My head falls back onto the seat and I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to calm my trembling muscles. Bowen ruined Evie, he’s trying to ruin Col, and he almost ruined me. I would’ve stabbed him, right there on the overlook, and opened him up in front of everyone. Then everything would be over, including me.

I would’ve killed him...

If Dallas hadn’t stopped me.

???