Page 77 of Without a Trace
“Everything’s about her,” Zeke said, pointing to the door. “And none of you are thinking clearly. Not with her wearing sin like perfume.”
I shoved Alden’s hand off my chest
“You don’t get to talk about her,” I snarled. “Not after what you did. Not after what you said.”
Zeke tilted his head. ““None of you are thinking clearly. She’s not just some girl. She’s the reason we’re all still breathing—and you’re all so busy fighting over her, you’ve forgotten why she matters.”
“I don’t think anything anymore,” I said. “IknowI’ll kill for her.”
Zeke’s smile dropped. That shut him up.
Even Alden froze. His face had gone pale.
Then Zeke stepped back into the dark, voice almost quiet now. “Then you better figure out whether that meanssavingher,” Zeke said, stepping back into the dark. “Orbreakingher.”
He vanished into the trees.
And I stood there, breathing like I’d just come back from war.
***
Scarlett
No one spoke. The silene pressed in from all sides.
They were back, but everything felt different.
The fire had gone out. The heat replaced by something cold and hollow.
Lena hadn’t moved.
Sloane looked like she might cry or scream or both.
Alden wouldn’t look at me.
Trace looked too much.
And I—I finally felt it.
The weight of the game I thought I was winning. Maybe I wasn’t the one pulling strings anymore.
Maybe I was the string.
And I was unraveling.
I wrapped my arms around myself without meaning to. My skin buzzed with leftover tequila, lust, and the kind of shame that didn’t have a name yet.
Nobody spoke.
Lena glanced between us, eyes wide, searching for someone to blame.
Sloane sat frozen, lips parted, breathing slow and shallow.
I wanted to say something.
Anything.
But all the power I’d stolen was bleeding out of me, drop by drop, into the crackling quiet.
