Page 27 of Above All Else

I released her cheeks and gripped her hands tighter with my other as I reached into my pocket and pulled out my phone.

“I don’t want to die,” she whispered as I pulled up the attachments from the email chain with my anonymous angel of truth.

“Example one. Your confession, two weeks after the funeral.” I pushed play on the audio clip, and June’s voice filled the dark forest.

“I did something really bad, Bailey. I wish I could tell you what it is, but you’ll hate me forever. I already hate myself.”

“Hold on.” June’s sobs froze, and she hiccupped,her brows furrowing. “That’s...”

“Seriously? You’re going to deny it?”

“You said two weeks after her funeral?”

I nodded and moved on to the next piece of evidence.

“That’s not possible.”

“Oh yeah, and why not?”

“I didn’t know Bailey until about three years ago. Amber’s been dead for ten.” A small victory smile formed on her lips. “Someone’s been lying to you, Carter.”

Was that hope growing in her watery eyes?

I narrowed my eyes. “Not really, that could just be a typo.”

“Okay, fine. Show me something else. You said you have proof. That audio could have been me confessing anything.”

My fingers trembled around the phone as the murder weapon enlarged on my screen. “What about this?” I turned the phone screen towards her. “Your father owned a hunting store with custom made knives.” I brought it closer to her face, the real one buried against my back. She pinched her brows together. “The high school boys raved about them.”

She laughed, a full-bellied laugh, causing my stomach to clench. “I’m sorry.” She turned her head to the side, her arms relaxing under my hold. “Is that your evidence?”

“Your father’s initials are etched in the handle.”

“He put those on every custom-made knife. It’s called free advertisement.” She tipped her head back, the arteries in her throat protruding through her delicate skin. “Carter Morgan, you didn’t go to medical school just to have ‘idiot’ written onyour forehead.”

My focus sharpened on her.

“You killed Ethan and put me through all of this because you lacked critical thinking skills. You better have more concrete evidence than this.”

I swiped a trickle of blood from my nose with my blood-soaked long sleeve.

The most damning video of them all burned into my retinas, setting my teeth on edge. Rage burned in my belly, and the desire to snuff out her life as though she were a bug under my shoe rampaged on.

Turning the screen toward her, her fit of laughter suffocated under a sharp gasp. Her head tilted toward the phone, her eyes taking in the video of her walking through the dark with a knife in her hands and blood staining her clothing and hands.

“That’s you. Isn’t it?” Her brows pulled down and together, forming a slight crease above her nose.

June’s mouth parted. “That’s not possible.” She shook her head frantically. “That’s not me. That’s not possible. I would remember something like that.”

“I’m not the idiot you thought, huh?”

I pocketed my phone and stood, jerking her up to her feet.

She stood frozen as I pulled the cable ties from my back pocket. “I didn’t want to use these, but I’m tired of these cat and mouse chases.”

Trapping her wrists in the ties, I grabbed her upper arm and dragged her through the forest, picking up my mask along theway and placing it over my face.

Five hours remained of our night together, and the only one whose blood fell was mine—but that was about to change.

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