Page 174 of Stop and Seek
How it would feel to pull it out. The way it would catch on the waistband of his khakis. The heat of the handle against his palm. Theweightof it. The ache it would make in his shoulder when he lifted it high.
Andrew turned around, banana still in hand, and gestured toward the couch. “You guys want anything? Water, soda—”
Theo's hearing decided to take a fucking break from reality. There was a humming in his ears, something sharp and low.
Noah sat on the edge of the couch, elbows on his knees, nodding along. He didn’t look back again. He’d already given Theo the softest littleokayin the hallway, like,I’ve got you, whatever you decide.
And Theo?
Theo decided.
His whole body leaned forward, like gravity had shifted. His hand twitched at his side, already moving before his brain caught up.
Now.
Right fucking now.
Don’t you dare chicken out.
Pulling the crowbar out of his pants wasn’t like the movies. It stuck for half a second, caught on the fabric, then came loose and took half the skin off his thigh with it. He had just enough time to register how badly that hurt before his body moved.
He swung.
There was no thought. No hesitation. Just instinct and some deep, red-hot command firing in the back of his brain.
The crack was louder than he imagined. Sickening. Horrifying. The sound echoed through the room and inside his own skull, like it had hithim, too. It vibrated up through the steel and into his elbows, shoulders, spine.
Then—silence.
Pure, unnatural quiet.
The buzzing in his ears died in an instant. The world flattened. Everything felt hollow and slow. He could hear the exact sound of his own breath catching in his throat, the faint rattle of metal in his grip, the soft thud of Andrew’s body hitting the ground.
It was… peaceful. Eerie as shit.
His arms stopped shaking. His mind, always restless, always digging at the edges of itself, finallystopped. The doubt, the hesitation—all of it shriveled up and disappeared like it’d never been real.
Andrew was sprawled on the floor. Banana halfway across the living room. Limbs bent wrong. His head tilted sideways, and blood—darkand wet, honey-like—slid down his temple, over the curve of his ear. It smeared across the carpet.
Theo stood there, frozen.
Was that it?
Was it already over?
All that pressure inside him, that relentless, gnawing need—and it was gone in an instant? Just like that?
His grip loosened. The crowbar almost slipped from his hand. Until—
Andrew blinked.
Theo blinked back.
Once. Twice.
No.
No, that wasn’t it. It wasn’t over. Not yet.
