Page 24 of Praying for Rain

Hell, here lately, a lot can happen in thirteen minutes.

“Are you sure it was behind Burger Palace?” I ask in a teensy, tiny voice.

We’ve poked every square foot of earth back here, and that door is either buried so deep in pine needles that a stick isn’t gonna do the trick or we’re in the wrong place.

“Yes, I’m fucking sure. I lived right down there,” Wes growls, shoving his finger in the opposite direction of the highway. “I used to walk by that goddamn chimney every day on my way to …” His voice trails off and he shakes his head, trying to get rid of the memory. “Ugh!” Wes drops the backpack on the ground and sits next to it on a fallen tree trunk, pressing his fingertips into his forehead. His freshly washed hair falls over his face, curling at the ends where it was tucked behind his ear.

I take a seat a few feet down from him on the log and unzip the pack, pretending to look for a bottle of water or something. “Sorry we haven’t found it yet. I’m sure we’re close. Some stupid kid probably knocked the chimney down or something.”

Wes doesn’t even look at me.

You’re making it worse. Just shut up.

I see the bag of trail mix, so I pull it out and extend it toward Wes. “M&M?” I smile, giving the bag a little shake.

Wes turns his head toward me—one eye hidden behind that curtain of hair—and gives me an almost smile. It’s just a twitch at the corner of his mouth really, and I can’t tell if it’s a thanks, but no thanks kind of twitch or the I’m glad you’re here kind or the dreaded you’re annoying the shit out of me, and I’m just tolerating you until I can figure out how to get rid of you kind. Before I realize what I’m doing, I reach out with my free hand and tuck that hair back behind Wes’s ear so I can get a better look at his confusing expression.

Which makes his almost smile disappear completely.

Shit.

Wes is now giving me the same look he gave me behind Burger Palace yesterday. The one that freezes the air in my lungs. The one that is focused and emotionless and intimidating as hell. I wonder what he’s thinking about when he looks at me like that. What he’s hiding.

I realize that I’m staring at him with my hand poised awkwardly in midair behind his ear, so I drop my eyes and yank my arm back. “We’re gonna find it,” I blurt out, unable to think of anything else to say.

“Yeah? And what if we don’t?”

I peek back up at him from under my mascara-coated lashes. “We die?”

Wes nods real slow and chews on the corner of his mouth as he studies me. “Why do I get the feeling that you’re not too upset about that?”

Because I’m not.

Because I’m looking forward to it.

Because I’m too chickenshit to do it myself.

I shrug and settle on, “Because it means I get a do-over.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Wes snaps, sitting up straighter. “It means you are over. Don’t you get that? It means you lost, and they won.”

I want to tell him that I’m okay with that, whoever “they” are, but I know it’ll only lead to more questions. Questions I don’t want to answer. Questions that will rattle the locks on Fort Shit I’m Not Going to Think About Ever Again Because None of This Matters and We’re All Going to Die. So, I keep my mouth—and the drawbridge—shut tight.

Besides, if Wes knows I’m just using him as a distraction, that I don’t actually want to survive whatever the hell is coming for us, he might not let me tag along anymore. And tagging along with this asshole is kinda my only reason for living at the moment.

I sigh and look around the woods, praying for a burst of inspiration that will help me convince him that we’re in this together.

Blowing out a breath, I lean forward and place my elbows on my knees. “If only we had a metal detector or something.”

“That’s it!” Wes snaps his fingers and points at me in the same motion.

I glance over at him and give myself an internal high five when I see his beautiful, megawatt smile beaming back at me.

“That’s fucking it! Rain, you’re a goddamn genius!” Wes stands up and ruffles my hair before lifting the backpack off the ground and holding the straps open for me to slip into. “Where’s the closest hardware store?”

I push my messed up hair out of my face and point toward the highway.

“Let’s go!”

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