I rise to my knees as I straddle Vin’s lap. “I love you,” I tell him, barely pulling away to speak.
“I love you. So damn much,” he says as his fingers brush through my hair. “My little Saint Cammi. I will worship at your altar every day for as long as you want me, whether that be here in Melbourne, Sydney, or fucking Timbuctoo.”
“I have no plans of going to Timbuctoo, but I will follow you there if you ever go.”
Vin’s phone vibrates in his pocket, pulling us out of our bubble. Shuffling off his legs, I plop onto the sand as he pulls the device out of his pocket. “It’s my brother,” he says, tapping on the screen.
“Marcel, what’s up?”
“Santo’s missing.” I hear his brother’s words come out of the speaker of the phone.
“Whoa, slow down. What do you meanhe’s missing?” Vin asks.
“As in, no one can fucking find him, Vin!”
“Okay, I’m coming home.” Vin pushes to his feet and holds out a hand to me. I place my palm on his and let him pullme up. He drops my hand as soon as I’m standing. “There’s no point. He’s not there,” he says into the phone. “Look around the city. And call me if you find him.” Vin shoves the device into his pocket before turning to me. “I can drop you back at school.”
“Or I could come along with you? Help you look?” I suggest. I have no idea how I’d help with anything. I just want to be with him in case he needs me.
“Okay, I think I know where he might be,” Vin says.
We end up parked next to a cemetery. I can tell Vin is worried about his brother. He’s told me a few things about Santo and how the guy’s struggling with his grief. I have no idea what the right thing to say is, though.
“Just wait here. I won’t be long. I’m going to check Shelli’s grave and see if he’s there,” Vin tells me.
“Are you sure? I don’t mind coming with you?” I offer.
“I’m sure. I’ll be back.” He gets out of the car and jogs off.
After five minutes passes with no sign of Vin or his brother, I climb out and go looking for them. It doesn’t take long to find them, and as soon as I do, I wish I hadn’t. I’ve never seen a more disturbing sight in my life.
Vin is sitting next to his brother, their legs dangling in front of them. But that’s not the disturbing part. The disturbing part is the giant hole in the ground. The open casket. And the corpse staring back at me from inside it.
Chapter Fifteen
Ithought I’d seen my brother’s grief hit rock bottom. I was fucking wrong. I had a feeling he’d be at her gravesite. He comes here a lot. I was not expecting to find him sitting on the edge of a six-foot hole. A hole that was filled with a casket and dirt last week.
It’s not the hole that’s the real problem, though. It’s the open casket with the rotting corpse sitting inside it. It’s a good thing I don’t have a weak stomach.
Standing back a little, I watch and listen as my brother pours his heart out to Shelli’s dead body. I should tell him I’m here. I shouldn’t be listening in on this conversation.
“Why? Shelli? Why the fuck are you doing this to me?” Santo says, his words broken. “We were meant to have forever. Now I’m left with a forever of you haunting me. A forever of not fucking knowing.” His voice gets louder. “I just want to know why!”
I walk over and drop down next to him, my legs hanging over the edge of the hole. “What’s up?”
Santo looks up at me, obviously shocked. He didn’t even hear me approach. He’s a sitting fucking duck out here, an open target for any one of our enemies. “She’s really dead,” he says.
“Yeah, bro, she is.” I glance at the casket. It’s funny how quickly a body decomposes—although I would have expected worse. Shelli was a beautiful girl, on the outside anyway. I’ve since learned things about her that I hope my brother never finds out.
“I see her though, Vin. She’s standing right there.” Santo points to the end of the grave. Right fucking next to me. “How is she standing there if she’s in…there?” He shifts his focus to the casket again.
“I think that maybe you want her to be here so badly that your mind is playing tricks on you, Santo. She’s not here. I wish more than anything that she were. I wish I could bring her back for you, but I can’t. We can’t,” I tell him gently.
“What if I don’t want her back? What if I just want answers?” he asks me.
“Answers to what?” I have no idea what he knows. I really fucking hope it’s not much…
“Too fucking many questions. What if that’s not her?”