“No,” he replies simply. “I do too.”
“I don’t know how to protect her from this, though.”
“Maybe we can’t.” Archer sighs, and his hand flinches slightly. “But we can help her through it. Whatever it is.”
I nod slowly, trying to plan how the conversation with the cops would go if it turns out she is killing people intentionally, but all I can think of is that sweet little smile she gives when she gets a compliment.
Nick appears in the kitchen just as I finish cleaning Archer’s knuckles, and he’s pale.
“What is it?” Archer demands immediately. “What is it?”
Nick slumps down into a chair. “It’s Amanda.”
“Has something happened?” My heart immediately tightens as Freida surges through my thoughts.
“No, well… Colin stayed on the line because he had more to tell us. She’s here.”
“Here?” Archer exclaims.
“Yep. She’s down in the ski lodge. Apparently, she arrived just before Christmas to see me, but they kept her down there because of the storm and just couldn’t tell us because of the bad connection.”
“Holy shit.” I lean back in my chair. “What do you think she wants?”
“Fuck knows,” Nick growls, and the anger suddenly becomes clear. “But I know she left Freida atChristmasto come here, so it can’t be good. I have to go see her.”
Archer and I glance at one another.
“We’ll all go,” Archer says. “You’re not facing her alone.”
“Even Rayne?” I ask.
Archer nods. “We’ve got no choice. Two birds, one stone, I guess.”
31
RAYNE
Sleep brings me no peace.
It’s like I’m back in that fateful night, reliving everything over and over in my dreams, and each time I think I wake up, I’m really back at the party with Ashton and it replays all over again.
And then, suddenly, my dream is different.
Suddenly, one of the people I killed is alive and they’re calling my name over and over, but I can’t get out of the car to see them. The seatbelt keeps me locked in tight, and no matter how I struggle, I’m not able to free myself. Panic rises and I can’t breathe?—
“Rayne!”
I bolt awake, drenched in sweat, with my heart racing and tension pulling through my skull. Archer is sitting a foot away on the edge of the bed and his face is somewhat sympathetic.
“Archer?”
“Are you alright?”
I push sweat-soaked strands of hair away from my forehead, then slide my hand around to the back of my overheating neck. “Mmhmm.”
“Are you sure?”
I nod, not trusting myself to say anything else in answer to that.