Page 51 of Honey Bee Hearts

“Where are we going?” I ask, frowning through the windshield as I turn off the main road onto a smaller one when he directs me to.

“You’ll see,” he says with a grin.

We drive for another twenty minutes. The mountains in front of us grow larger and larger until we’re staring up at them from the base. Then we follow a smaller paved road up the mountain for a little way. A small gravel parking lot sits at the end of the road, so I pull in and throw the truck into park. The sign in front of me says “Fredreick E. Savage Hiking Trail”, but that doesn’t mean much to me. There are no other vehicles here on a Monday, but it’s the middle of the afternoon, so it makes sense if everyone is working.

“I’m not dressed for hiking,” I point out. In fact, the beekeeper suit doesn’t seem very good for hiking. The hats are tossed into the back seat, unnecessary for whatever this is.

“We’re not hiking really,” he says, popping open his door and coming around to my side. He opens my door for me before offering me a hand. Once he closes it behind him, he continues. “I don’t know of anyone who uses this place for hiking. When I was in high school, this was the spot to park and get up to no good.” He wiggles his eyebrows at me.

I snort. “I’m not fucking you out in the mountains, Rhett.”

“Your loss,” he laughs. “But that’s not why we’re here.” He takes my hand and pulls me to the hiking path. We walk up it for a way, my lungs immediately screaming at me. I’m from Florida. The altitude here is no joke, and this is a literal fucking mountain. “Just a little further,” Rhett encourages. “Trust me.”

“You sure you’re not trying to murder me and leave me for dead?” I joke.

He grins back at me. “Nah. I wouldn’t do it out here if I was.”

I blink. “You’ve thought about where to put a body?”

“Doesn’t everyone?” he asks with a shrug. “And. . . here.”

He tugs me up over the last hump and I blink in surprise, my breath wheezing out of me both because of the altitude and because of the sight in front of me.

“Wow,” I rasp.

“I know,” he nods, pleased with himself. “You can almost see the entire Green River Basin from here.” He points. “There’s Circle Bee. Over there is Steele Mountain. It’s hard to make out the fences, I know.”

“So you just brought me out here to show me the sight?” I ask. “It’s pretty for sure, and I love it?—”

His expression grows serious. “When my parents and little sister died, I. . . well, I went stir crazy. I went through a phase of getting into serious trouble, and not a single person in townblamed me for it.” He takes my hand in his and holds on. “I did real stupid shit. Anything bad you can think of, I probably did it, and not once did anyone press charges. I think I was trying to get a reaction, any reaction, so I could feel anything other than numb, something other than fucking sad.” He glances at me, and he suddenly looks older than his twenty-six years. “One day, I came up here on a whim. I thought it’d be a good place to smoke the pack of cigarettes I stole from the convenience store. I came up here and the sight you see now met me, and something inside of me demanded to be let out.”

He faces the basin, sucks in a deep breath, and yells. I jump at the sound, not expecting it, and when it echoes back to us, I can hear the tortured anguish in the sound, the pain, all dancing within the different tones.

“I screamed,” he whispers. “I screamed and screamed until my throat was raw, and at the end of it all, I felt just a little bit better.”

I stare at him, at this man who I thought was nothing more than a womanizer. I’d stupidly thought Rhett was a single layer man despite hints of this, that I’d had him all figured out. But he’s literally been an onion all along. He’s just much better at hiding it.

“Scream,” he tells me, gesturing to the basin. “Let it out.”

I swallow thickly. “It’s too much?—”

“It’s not,” he promises.

“What if someone hears?” I ask.

“Only the mountains will hear you up here,” he answers. “The wind will sweep it away before anyone ever hears it in the basin.”

I face the basin before me, my eyes on the cars so far away they look like ants as they drive on the roads. Everyone continues on, moving as if life is just the same. But for me, it changed eight months ago, and it’ll never be the same.

“Give the mountains your pain, Fable,” he says, coming over to brace me against his chest. “They’re strong enough to hold it.”

Jinx appears beside me, her eyes on the scene in front of us. Slowly, she looks over at me, her hair perfect and untouched by the wind while mine swirls around my face. “Scream, Everhart,” she commands.

My chin trembles as I look at the midday sun, as the cold mountain air swirls around me. Rhett’s arms tighten around my shoulders as I take a deep breath, as I drag in all the pain I feel, and release it. The scream that rips from my throat is guttural, brutal, raw. It echoes around me, coming back to meet my ears as mine dies off.

“Again,” Rhett says.

So, I do. I scream, my chest tight with the force I let out. As I scream the second time, I’m joined by another, and I realize I can hear Jinx screaming right along with me in my mind, an echo of my best friend in the sound that comes back to me. Tears spring to my eyes as my heart kicks hard in my chest.

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