Page 77 of Her Wicked Knights
The thought makes me feel like I'm going insane, and I run my hands through my hair, trying to find something to do with them before I can act out on the first person to get within my reach.
"He's out of his fucking mind." Colton growls.
"I'm going to kill him." Tripp says, crossing his arms like that's his final word. "Fucking asshole."
"We'll deal with him together." I tell them, glancing between my friends so that they know I would very much like to take a hit at him as well. If Colton goes after him alone, I may never get the chance.
"I think he killed her." Marley says, so suddenly that it stuns us all to silence. That silence, she takes as our doubt, and begins trying to run it back, telling us to forget she said anything.
It takes some prompting, but we finally get her to reveal the cause of her suspicions. "I think he's on drugs. I think he's been on drugs. And over the summer..."
Marley hesitates, but when Tripp assures her that she can tell us anything, she nods.
"What happened over the summer?"
She struggles with the words a minute before opening her mouth. "I went to pick Audrey up for one of the bonfires. Jakewas there, and he had her against a wall. He stopped when he saw me, and he chased us out of her house and..."
She stops again, and I wait for her to admit that she saw them hooking up, that she confronted him about cheating on her with the person who was supposed to be her best friend. Instead, her eyes flick to Colton. "Audrey said that Jake tried to rape her." Marley clamps her mouth shut, like doing so will keep her from breaking down. "I'm so sorry, Colt. She begged me not to tell you. She was worried about ruining your friendship, but if he did that, is it really a stretch to think maybe he's the one who put her in that coffin?"
I lock eyes with Tripp, both of us undoubtedly thinking the same thing.
Jake and Audrey hooked up plenty of times. It was an ongoing thing between them, and just because they were together doesn't mean that consent was automatic. But Jake was hardly the aggressor in that relationship. He never went after Audrey, only took what she was willing to give him freely. Jake's spineless, a coward, so it's possible he did try to do that. But Audrey was cruel and manipulative; it's possible she lied to Marley to try and cover something she didn't want her to know about.
"If he killed her and I kept that secret...."
Marley's voice breaks off, and I recognize the spiral she's about to put herself in, just in time to pull her out of it. Together, Tripp and I assure her that she did nothing wrong, that this is her mind playing tricks on her, that she's experiencing survivor's guilt. And then Colton decides that's enough of all of it, telling us to take her home.
"Colton—" She tries.
"I'll talk to you in a bit, Marley." He assures her, turning to go.
She tries to protest some more, until Tripp finally reminds her she can't go back into the church looking like this. She's fucking gorgeous, obviously. But with mulch clinging to her hair andred handprints on her neck, she'll attract attention that none of us want on her. She's already under a microscope as the only witness, the lone survivor. The final girl.
We shepherd her to Tripp's car with little protest; once we start moving her, she goes willingly, her mind too overwhelmed to resist. Tripp helps her into the passenger seat, and I settle in the back, sliding into the middle seat so I can lean between them, feeling oddly left out.
The two people I care for most on this earth are inches away, and yet, it feels like miles.
We're on the highway by the time the inky sky breaks open and rain begins falling on the roof of the car, splashing in fat drops against the windshield faster than Tripp’s wipers can clear them. Tripp's music is low, and the air is so cool it's almost freezing, and suddenly, with the two of them here like this, everything feels okay.
"Don't take me home." Marley says suddenly.
For a moment, I think neither of us heard her right. "What?"
She sighs. "I don't want to go back yet."
And that's all she has to say, because the two of us will give her everything she could ever want.
Tripp doesn't take her home. He whips the wheel with barely a moment's notice, grinning as he exits off the highway, choosing a different route... one we've been to a half dozen times before.
He takes us to the south beach, past Audrey's dead aunt's vacation home, and parks on the hill, as close to the shore as he can get us without driving on the sand.
It's raining hard, and the sound of it falling around us is enchanting, melodic, inspiring.
I don't know what it is that surges through my veins. Hope. Joy. Euphoria? It doesn't matter, though, because the thought crosses my mind to get out and run, to feel the cool rain on myskin, to just fucking let go of everything for a moment. So, I do, throwing open my door and darting out into the rain.
Tripp's headlights illuminate the space where the shore meets the sea, offering a hazy glow that makes the rain drops look like slashes in the fabric of the night sky as I kick off my shoes, running on the shore and letting the sand squash between my toes.
I spin in circles, flap my arms, throw my head back, scream like a fucking banshee, and I just let go. I probably look like an absolute fucking moron, but I can't bring myself to care. If there's anyone I don't mind looking like a fool for, it's the only two people who can see me right now, still sitting in the quiet safety of Tripp's car as I wear myself out on the shore. It's amazing, really, how good it feels to not think, to shut my brain off and just let my body move of its own accord.
