Page 22 of The Weekend Getaway

“You have to come with me …” Grace sputtered, barely able to get the words out. “Please … you have to?—”

“Grace, what is it?” Chris demanded, pushing the bed sheets away, jumping out of bed. “What happened? Why are you crying? What’s wrong?”

“Please …” Grace sobbed, trying to catch her breath. “Please … you have to come with me …”

“Why?” Chris asked, trembling, fear threatening to overtake him. “What is going on?”

Staring at him, her expression haunted, Grace said, “He’s … dead …”

CHAPTER 17

GRACE

Grace wiped her face with trembling fingers.

The sun had risen moments ago, sometime after she’d turned and run for her life away from the buzzards, turned away from their bloody beaks, greedily tearing into the dead flesh, pulling away pieces of skin that dangled and flapped from their mouths before it was swallowed whole.

Grace had run, blinded by her tears, slipping on the dead leaves in her haste to get away, tripping over tree roots, stumbling and falling, but determined. She needed to get back to the villa. She had to get to Chris. Bursting from the jungle path, she’d sprinted past the pool and across the terrace. Into the villa and upstairs, dashing down the hallway, sucking in deep breaths, her legs burning. She’d crashed into the bedroom and lunged onto the bed.

She’d forced Chris to get up, resorting to slapping him when he wouldn’t respond to her commands.

“Get dressed!” She’d ordered, throwing the clothes he’d worn yesterday at him, ignoring his questions, telling him to come with her. She didn’t have time to explain. He would understand soon.

As they hurried from the villa, Chris demanded that she tell him what was going on. What was wrong? Why was she crying? Grace couldn’t tell him. Couldn’t find the words. How could she? She had to show Chris. He needed to see for himself.

“Grace …” Chris said, his voice barely above a whisper. “What is going on? Why are we here?”

Grace stared at the ground. She didn’t understand. Several thin tree roots crossed the damp earth as insects scurried in the dirt. Where were the buzzards? Where was …

Hiccupping a sob, Grace stared at the forest floor. The path was clear. But that wasn’t right. She knew what she had seen. What had sent her screaming and running back to the villa?

“It was right there,” Grace said, pointing at the ground where the most horrific thing she’d ever seen?—

“What was right there?” Chris stepped toward her.

Grace jerked away, stepping back, eyes sweeping the forest. Sunlight streamed through the tree canopy, casting a pale, hazy glow over the thick dense foliage.

“His head …” Grace whispered, tears pricking her eyes as panic and fear invaded her body, twisting and swirling, a maelstrom of terror.

Chris shook his head, confusion in his gaze. “What?”

Grace stared at him. “The buzzards … they were eating his head.”

CHAPTER 18

JASON

Sitting at the breakfast bar at the island in the large kitchen, Jason took another sip of pineapple juice.

He would have preferred grapefruit juice. With a healthy pour of vodka. A salty dog sounded great right about now. Considering the circumstances. Considering the mess they were in. The mess Alex had made. The firm he, Chris, and Alex had founded ten years ago and had made considerable sums of money from, was potentially on the verge of bankruptcy.

Because of Alex.

Everything, good or bad, right or wrong, was always because of Alex. Because of some action or reaction he carried out. Because of some decision or direction he made. The world centered around Alex. And it shouldn’t be that way. Jason didn’t know why they allowed Alex to center himself ineveryone’s life. Maybe they didn’t know how to put their feet down and stand up to him. Maybe they didn’t want to. It was scary, and more than a bit pathetic, to think that they put up with Alex’s unrepentant narcissism because they’d always put up with it and were comfortable with him calling the shots. Directing the show. Telling everyone what to do and how to do it.

Maybe he and Chris didn’t want to make the decisions.

Maybe they were wary of change, of taking the risks that Alex took and shouldering the burdens he’d carried all these years to make sure the firm made a profit.

---