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She’s more or less silent for the rest of the climb, save some of the most creative combinations of curse words I’ve ever heard. When we reach the top, there’s a small outcropping of reedy, windbeaten grass, but goddamn—
“That . . .” She releases an awed breath. “That is worth it.” An endless expanse of ocean surrounds us, Summerland just an inconsequential blip among a sea of serenity.
She stares at the scenic surroundings, but I can’t look away from her, loving the marvel lighting up on her face. I feel truly blessed that I get to share this moment with her. The sky above us looks like the beginning of a war between gods. To our right, the first rays of the sunset are blazing boldly from the horizon, but to our left, dark gray storm clouds are brewing, creeping closer like an invading evil army.
I need to feel her in my arms again.
So, I stand behind her and wrap them across her chest. Her hands reach up and hold onto my forearms while I rest my chin on the top of her head. She leans back into me and sighs softly. I have a split second of intense clarity, and suddenly I know without a doubt that this feeling, right here, is utter contentment.
“Still want to push me off the edge?” I tease.
“Ask me again after the hike back down.”
“By then you’ll have missed your chance.” I laugh. “You really would make a lousy murderer.”
She laughs with me but then goes silent. I wish I could see her face right now. I drop my arms and turn her around. She has a worrisome look that makes my concern spike. “What is it?” I ask.
“What about Clark? Do you think he could have killed his brother?” she asks like it’s inconceivable that someone could kill their own brother. It’s unconscionable, but not inconceivable. And there’s a lot of people without consciences.
“He found the body and then pointed fingers at everyone else, including us,” she reminds me. “He even said that his brother got what he deserved. Maybe he got sick of cleaning up his messes.”
“I thought the same thing,” I admit. “But some things don’t make sense. I was with him in the club when he was killed—”
“But that could have been intentional, right? Hired someone to do it so he’d have an alibi. Some of the goons that work for him, I can see it,” she says adamantly.
“I don’t disagree that it’s possible. I bet you couldn’t throw a stone on Summerland without hitting someone who’s willing to commit murder for hire. But what doesn’t make sense is how he was killed. You said it yourself: this kill was personal. If he just wanted to get rid of him, it would have been a lot easier and cleaner to fake a suicide or accident. Or just make him disappear entirely. We’re on a remote island in the middle of the ocean. It’s like”—I throw my hands in the air—“the dream murder destination.”
She starts laughing, and I think maybe she’s finally snapped, cracked under the weight of this all. “You’re the only person I know that has a ‘dream murder destination.’” She shakes her head with a scoffing chuckle.
I exhale, relieved, and smile out of the corner of my mouth. “Actually, you know at least three more.”
1. Play “I Like You (A Happier Song) (With Doja Cat)” by Post Malone, Doja Cat
2. Continue playing I Like You (A Happier Song) (With Doja Cat) by Post Malone, Doja Cat
3. Play “Outta my head” by Omido, Rick Jansen, Ordell
Chapter 19
Twenty-Four Hours
Stella
The hike—or rather rock climb—back down isn’t so bad. We’d bushwhacked our way up, clearing some semblance of a path. I know I’ll be picking twigs out of my hair all night, but I have to admit, the view made up for a lot.
I take my sandals off while we walk along the shoreline, the water lapping lazily at our feet, our toes in the sand. The rain clouds are holding off, the sunset beginning to color the sky—it’s pretty damn close to perfect.
I step on something cool and squishy. My first instinct is to squirm at the slimy texture, but then the hot, stinging sensation bites at my skin. Realizing I’ve stepped on a jellyfish, I jump back, tripping over a rock and tumbling backward.
I almost hit my head but catch myself right before. Avoiding a concussion is just about the only good thing. Not only does my ass hurt from taking the brunt of my fall, but my ankle screams in pain.
Lochlan turns around as I go down squawking and stares at me blankly. “Did you just trip over nothing?”
I push myself up to a seat. “No, asshole. I got stung by a jellyfish.”
“Oh shit.” He runs over to me. I think he’s going to offer me his hand, but instead he whips out his dick.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I shout, my pain temporarily forgotten by sheer surprise.
