This conversation will tell me exactly how well our talk the other day went. “Your mural has been done for half a day and I keep getting calls looking for you from the city administrator about licensing for tourism, to do a news article, and,” he smiles wider, “a marketing firm from St. Paul has seen pictures of it and wants to offer you a mentorship.” I let him go on about it and nod as he talks. My mind is elsewhere.
“I need to tell you a few things…” My face crumples as the crying starts yet again.
He gets a panicked look on his face. “Oh no. Nat said you were sick for a couple of mornings. Are you pregnant?”
“What? Fuck no.” I shake my head. I get the assumption. What an absolute mess that would be.
My uncle is no stranger to odd. His parents were con artists, his sister stole his wife away, he has me as a niece, but even after all that he’s shocked into silence over all the things I’ve learned this summer about the drownings, the guys, about this town.
He groans dropping the pen he was chewing onto the desk. “I knew I should have moved onto the bowling alley in St. Anna. I had no idea.”
My lip trembles as I say, “I know about the surprise party tomorrow night. I need it packed full of people; I want you to invite everyone you can. I-I just need to stay surrounded.” I’m locking arms with Keenan and Natalie, so I don’t have to be on the lookout for an attack.
Skip does the unthinkable. He gets out of his chair, coming to kneel next to me. Wrapping his arms around me, his head muffled against my shoulder, he says, “Anyone hurts you, there might be another unsolved murder in Lake Hollow.”
Chapter Twenty-six
Wilder Lee
Iregret trusting the process for Remi’s Going Away party. Not only is Natalie late getting Remi to the Funpark, the whole motherfucking county seems to have been invited by Skip. It’s mind Boggling that he’d do that, when we told him we wanted it to be a small intimate affair, like Grady’s party had been. There are people here I guarantee she doesn’t know. When I see Kami, Cal’s ex with Alana sitting on the dock of the bumper boat pond, I pull Charlie aside. “What’s happening here?”
“I don’t know.” He clenches his jaw looking around. “She’s going to hate this. I hate this.”
Cal and Grady reposition the old rowboats that are filled full of ice that people have been placing the alcohol they’ve brought along with them. “Fucking booze boats? No one has any intention of leaving sober, do they?”
Carter Kelley walks over with a bottle of Everclear and that stupid grin of his. “Shot anyone?” I haven’t had Everclear on itsown or in anything ever. It’s illegal in some states, I've heard. “Whose boats? These yours, Gibson?”
Charlie shakes his head. “No, Cal are these yours?”
Sneering at Charlie, he rolls his eyes. “Sure. I travel with boats wherever I go. Mitchell had them out on the airstrip.”
There’s a fight brewing between them that seemed to start the other day. I’d pay to see Cal beat the shit out of Charlie. Well, at least get a good punch in.
Fuck it, maybe a shot of it will soften the growing agitation over our botched plans. “I’ll take a shot I guess.” Carter hands me the bottle. When I take a large swallow, it burns my mouth and throat going down. “That’s fucking deadly.” With my fist clenched, I go back for one more swig, sputtering, “Oh, that’s fucking disinfecting my soul.”
Cal puts his hand out for the bottle, almost spitting it back out. “You’d throw that on a wound during war.”
More sweaty bodies pile in, people bumping against me, making me back up to lean against the mini putt shack. Still no Remi, and the party has been going strong for an hour and a half.
“She’s still available.” Charlie nods towards Alana talking to Carter.
“Not surprised, bro,” Carter says before he cracks open a can of beer. He raps some lines from a song, “I don’t have the hoes, the hoes have me.” He’s even more obnoxious than I remember him being.
“I think we need to go find Remi; Natalie predictably has failed the simple task she had,” Grady says as walks up beside me. “Who the hell are all these people?”
“Don’t know.” Shaking my head, I add, “I tried to talk to Skip a few minutes ago, but he seems to have hopped on the chickenshit express. He’s nowhere to be found now.”
So much for the music that Grady and I were going to play for her, because there’s no chance, she’d even hear it. Someonehas loud techno house music playing on the outdoor speakers. The concussive beat and the flashing footlights Skip positioned through the Funpark are giving me rave vibes.
Grady’s hand tucks under the waistband of my jeans onto the bare skin of my hip. It’s not like anyone is paying attention, but I still stiffen with uncertainty. Are we doing this? I’ve seen an uncomfortable amount of past classmates, old neighbors, and town gossips. “What are you doing?” I loudly whisper to him.
He slides his hand lower where he caresses my hip. “What does it feel like?”
Honestly? It feels fucking superb.
“I know good and damn well-” My statement is cut off when the side of his hand rubs up against my hardening dick. “Damn… we.” I turn slightly allowing him better access. “Need to find Remi.” I’ve been jerked off in a shower display at IKEA, I can’t act scandalized by this. It’s dark other than the flashing lights, and fairy lights strung about.
I hear Cal yelling our names from the area of the ticket office, so I yank Grady’s hand and part of his arm out of my pants. “Later,” I rasp out, before grabbing him to pull behind me.