them. I went to pick up Huck because I was worried, and Sawyer convinced me I should take him and his car rather than borrowing my mother’s old junker.
Lost in the past memories, I absently lifted a hand to touch the slightly lifted mark on my face. Sawyer wanted me to get plastic surgery to get it fixed. He also wanted me to forget all about Huck and seamlessly settle into the role he decided I was supposed to play.
I refused to get it fixed.
It was a constant reminder that the accident could’ve been prevented if I’d been smarter, faster, better than the boy who wanted to own me, and if I’d been more aware of just how dangerous caring about Huck really was. It forced me to remember that everything that followed the accident could also have been prevented if I’d been braver. If I’d been more honest—with everyone, and with myself.
But I’d lied, and it cost me close to everything. I hadn’t even managed to save the only person I wanted to keep safe. I mean, the lie kept my mom alive a little longer than anticipated after she suffered a massive heart attack the night of the accident, but it wasn’t enough to bring her home or help her recover fully. She passed away regardless of the sacrifices I’d made and everything I put Huck through as a result.
I had a hard time convincing myself those few years she gained, attached to machines, remaining almost totally bedridden, had been worth selling my soul and losing my friendship with Huck.
I was still breathing hard and sweating profusely curled up in the old tub. My hands were shaking where I held onto the blanket, and I could hear the blood rushing loudly between my ears. I felt like I was going to pass out, and honestly, being unconscious was preferable to feeling like I was going to come out of my skin at any moment.
I couldn’t hold back a shriek of terror when the next clap of thunder rumbled through the night and rattled the whole house. I put my hands over my ears and tried to keep both the past and the present at bay.
Since most sounds were muffled by my hands on the blanket over my head, I didn’t hear the noisy stairs to the attic pop and creak. And because I had my eyes closed as tightly as possible underneath the protective shroud, I missed the flickering light of a camp lantern as it entered the bathroom, held in the hand of the very last person I thought would come to check on me.
When the blanket was suddenly yanked off my head and a shadowy figure materialized in front of me, there was no more holding it together. I screamed at the top of my lungs, my arms and legs flailed about wildly. I hit the back of my head on the edge of the tub, and tears immediately started to creep out of my eyes and roll down my cheeks. My chest felt like it was going to cave in, and every breath I managed to take burned on its way into my lungs.
“Whoa. Calm down, Ollie.” There was a thump as Huck hit the tiled floor, kneeling down and holding the lantern in front of his face. “The lights go out all the time when the weather is bad because this house is so old. There are camp lights and candles stashed everywhere. I was going to have Vernon bring you one when he messaged me that the power was out, but I figured having him pop up in the dark would scare you even more than the storm.”
I was shivering so hard that my teeth were chattering, and I couldn’t hold onto the blanket any longer. Huck sighed and reached out to yank the fabric back up to my chin. The faint light from my phone and the lantern cast weird shadows over his starkly handsome face, giving him an almost sinister look.
He cocked his head to the side and asked, “Are you going to spend the night in the bathtub if it doesn’t stop raining?”
I nodded and curled my fingers around the blanket to keep it secured so that only my eyes and nose were showing above the edge.
Huck heaved a sigh and shifted so that he was sitting on the bathroom floor with his knees pulled up. He rested the wrist of one hand on his bent knee and tapped the