Lost Boy - Ker Dukey Page 0,38

breathing. “Hey,” Clark says, biting his lip as he searches my features.

“Hey,” I manage to wisp past my lips. He smells of summer, freshly cut grass, rainwater, and maple. He’s dressed in jeans and a white shirt that’s open at the collar, showing the ink of a tattoo. “I’m sorry about what happened,” I admit. Panic overcame me, and I ran like I always do. “You have to admit, it’s all a little weird.” I tug down the sleeves of my top.

“That I live here?” he questions, a half-smile hooking his lips.

“You could have told me we were neighbors at any time but didn’t.”

He sighs heavily and reaches out, clasping my wrist. Heat spreads, zapping up my arm. His eyes are intent as he stares at me. I look down to make sure I didn’t leave the house pantless. “In time, I would have. I’ll tell you everything, I promise,” he implores, the intensity between us building, an inferno scorching every nerve ending inside me. The skidding of wheels breaks the spell, drawing our attention to Charlotte’s car coming to an unattractive stop, half on the curb beside us. “Lizzy,” she calls out, frantic, racing toward me, leaving her car door wide open. “You have to come. There’s been another one.” She’s shaking, her voice jittering.

“Everything okay?” Clark asks, reaching out to hold her steady.

“Come with me,” she urges me, ignoring Clark as she pulls me away.

I wave a hand behind me. He stands there, his brow furrowed, watching Charlotte drag me down the sidewalk. “You left your car,” I remind her.

“I can’t drive. It’s just a few blocks.”

“What is?” I demand, jerking my arm from her punishing grip. “What the hell? You’re being crazy.”

“There’s another body,” she snaps, her pupils wide, lips trembling.

No, no, no.

“Come on,” she stresses.

Feeling lightheaded, I take off walking, sensing eyes on me from every person I pass. Are they watching me? Do they know who I am? I didn’t want to live my life in fear, but it’s not becoming a choice anymore. Vulnerability hums in my veins. My heart begins to pound as we round a corner. There’s a sea of people gathered, dim blue lights flashing between the cracks in the spaces of bodies. No…no…no…

Chatter fills the air. A stirring of whispered hums and shuffling feet. A dark, somber presence thickens the air around us. We move up to the crowd cautiously, Charlotte's hand clasping mine, dragging me through the throngs.

Thud.

Another one so soon. “She’s in the ally—was dumped in the trashcan,” Charlotte mumbles, coming to a stop at a blockade.

Thud.

Sickness stirs in my gut. I can’t do this. I back away, pulling from Charlotte’s hold. “I’m late for school,” I tell her. In reality, I’m scared to see something I won’t be able to be un-see. Do I know them too?

“Lizzy?” she calls out, her face pale, jaw unhinged. “Lizzy!”

“I can’t,” I mouth. Turning on my heels, I take the longer route to school, hoping the woman died of natural causes and fell in the trash. God, that’s still horrible.

I come to the traffic lights, a dull ache throbbing behind my eyes. I walk across, screeching when a horn blasts and a car skids to a stop before me. For a split second, I wish it wouldn’t have stopped.

“Lizzy?” Stephan calls out from the window. “I could have killed you!” he exclaims, jumping out the car and coming over to me. Looking up at the lights, I realize I crossed without pressing the button or waiting for the beep. “I’m sorry.” I shake my fog-filled brain.

“Are you okay? Charlotte called me.” Concern creases his brow.

“No,” I admit. “I don’t think I am.” He pulls me into his embrace, dragging me over to his car and urging me into the passenger seat. My breathing is erratic. Tears threaten, but I force them not to fall. One, two, three, I count internally, my nails pinching at my skin to distract my thoughts.

Stephan starts the car, then once again slams on his breaks. “Fuck!” he barks. Looking out the window to see what stopped him, a spark of shock eclipses the panic from before. Bruno runs across the street, his lead hanging from his collar. I search the surroundings for his owner. “We can’t leave him,” I state, jumping out of the car and calling for him. “Come here, boy.” His fat body waddles with excitement over to me. Stroking his head, my hand runs through moist liquid coated into his fur. I twist