Page 45 of The First Hunt (The Final Hunt)
HOLLY
“ H ey. Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Her pulse slowed, the fear loosening its grip. He held a baseball bat, which meant he must’ve just gotten home from practice.
“John.” She kept her voice low. “We need to get out of here, you and me.”
“What?” He stepped into the room. “Why?”
Holly pointed to the wall behind her, debating how much she should tell him.
She moved closer to him as he took in the wall.
She studied John’s face as it struck her that if Clint was the father of Meg’s baby, then John was the half-brother of Meg’s son.
But there was no time to think about that now.
She lowered her voice to a whisper. “I think your dad may have killed these women.”
John tore his gaze from the wall covered with an article about his mom’s suicide and his English teacher’s X’d-out photo. He scoffed. “My dad didn’t kill them.”
Footsteps creaked atop the ceiling above their heads.
Frustrated, Holly grabbed John by the shoulders, tilting her head to lock eyes with him.
She was about to tell him that yes, his father did kill them, but she could see in his eyes that he would never believe her.
It was a mistake to think she could convince John of who his father really was.
Now, she needed to get out of this house while she still had the chance.
John pointed to the wall beside them. “But he did kill those women.”
Holly followed the direction of his finger to the wall containing Meg’s article and the three presumed Green River Killer victims, then looked to the other wall.
“What?”
John knew ? Then she remembered the boy in the backseat of the car that picked up Sally Hickman.
Clint had to be lying to John about the others, not wanting him to know he’d killed John’s mother.
But how could John be okay with his father killing any of them?
She turned to face the tall teenager, her rage at his father fueled not only by discovering he’d killed Meg, but how he’d manipulated his son into keeping this dark secret. The poor kid.
“You don’t need to protect your father, John. He should’ve been the one protecting you.”
The door to the basement opened with a creak. “John? Is that you down there?” Clint’s voice called out.
Holly grabbed John’s arm. “Is there a door to outside from down here?”
“Yeah.” John pivoted and pointed out the room and to the left. “It’s through there.”
“John, your father killed all those women. Even your mother.” Holly glanced toward the stairwell. “We need to leave. Right now. Come on.”
John shook his head. “No. I’m not going anywhere.”
“But—” She registered something in the teenage boy’s eyes she hadn’t seen before.
Something dark and sinister. She released his arm and took a step back, recalling John’s expression when he saw her office wall covered with details from unsolved murder victims—including Meg.
He’d known that his father had killed Meg when he came to my house.
Clint’s footsteps sounded down the stairs. Her gaze fell to the bat in John’s hand. She’d already said far too much. How far would he go to protect his father?
Holly turned and rushed toward the doorway, not bothering to try to drag John with her. If she hurried, she could make it to the door leading outside before Clint could catch her. Then, if she could escape and call the police, they’d make sure John was placed in a safe home—away from his father.
Holly reached the doorway when from the corner of her eye she spotted the end of a baseball bat swinging toward her head at full force. A split second later, the impact turned the edges of her world into a black void as she fell to the floor.
A weightlessness came over her, like she was floating.
Her vision cleared, and she spotted a woman lying on the basement floor, blood pooling around her head near the doorway.
Holly reached out to help her, but her hand wouldn’t respond to her command.
She studied the woman’s face. The woman on the floor was her.
John squatted beside her unmoving body and pressed two fingers against her neck.
Seemingly satisfied, he stood, keeping hold of the bloody bat.
Holly drifted higher, farther away, as the world below began to blur.
Clint, John, and her lifeless form faded to nothing before being replaced by a blinding light.
Meg emerged from the glow, still looking eighteen, wearing a white dress as she strode toward Holly.
A brightness gleamed behind her as Meg outstretched her hand.
“Welcome home, sister.”
Meg. Too overcome with emotion to speak, Holly felt herself smile as tears sprung to her eyes.
Holly placed her hand in Meg’s, wanting to ask her sister so many things, but still too overwhelmed to find her voice.
Peace surged through Holly as her sister’s arms wrapped around her.
There was endless time ahead to ask Meg everything she wanted to know.
Finally, they were together again. Forever. Where no one could ever hurt them or tear them apart.