Page 109 of Killer Kiss

He side-eyed me. “People change as they get older. I think you can understand that.”

He had a point. I’d never been able to say no to him when he used that hopeful face on me. I would have called it downright manipulative if Banjo had been capable of such a thing. But he wasn’t.

“Fine. I’ll come to the game they’re going to.”

“And you’ll be nice?” he prompted with a laugh.

I frowned, but it was with the same good humor. “Don’t push your luck.”

He hid his smile by turning his face up to the night sky. “Glad to have you back, Aug. I fucking missed you.”

I mirrored his position, so he didn’t see the way my eyes suddenly got watery. “Me too.”

The back door slid open, cutting through the quiet moment, and Lacey’s voice rang out across the yard, “Augie!”

At the vague tone of panic in her voice, Banjo and I both stood.

“What’s wrong?” he called out, already moving for the door. “Is it Luna?”

“No, she’s fine.” Lacey’s gaze locked on mine. “Ophelia just got a text, and then she ran.”

I shook my head in confusion. “What text? Ran where?”

Lacey wrung her hands as Banjo put his arm around her.

But her worried gaze stayed on me. “I don’t know. But she’s gone, Augie.”

30

OPHELIA

Her scream.

Her fall.

Her body crumpled on the floor, limbs bent at wrong angles.

Blood.

I stumbled down the steps of the pretty Providence mansion, blindly groping for the car door handle and getting in behind the wheel.

My stomach churned, sick with the images that had played out silently on the little phone screen.

I couldn’t breathe.

I slammed my foot down on the accelerator, the car lurching backward and spinning sideways, ripping up the perfectly manicured grass.

I would have to apologize to Lacey for ruining her lawn. For leaving without so much as saying goodbye.

Pushing the gearshift into drive, I got the car out onto the quiet Providence street, no idea where I was going, only knowing I needed to get out. Everything felt too small. The house. The street. The entire fucking town.

I put down the windows, letting the cold winter air blast the tears off my face. It did nothing for the aching burn in my chest and the constant loop my head played, showing me that video of my sister, over and over and over again, no matter how hard I tried to blink it away.

My mother’s voice echoed in my head.

You didn’t try hard enough.

You should have saved her.

---