Page 101 of Our Darkest Summer
My mind snapped back. Kevin. The newspaper cut-out.
I pulled out my phone, but I didn’t call Joshua. Instead, I sent a photo into the group chat.
“Let her go. So she can show you what I sent.”
Eric’s eyes snapped to mine. I could see the battle waging inside him. Curiosity versus power. Then, he loosened his hold, just enough so Samantha could pull out her phone. For a moment, she stared at the screen, then slowly she turned it toward him.
Eric’s gaze locked onto the image, something twisting on his face as he read. I could see his eyes flicking over the words:Father and son welcome you to Bellford Fire Station - Philip Joseph Bowman and Ethan Bowman
“Liars!” he snapped, and then he shot.
Not at us. Up at the sky. The sharp crack of the bullet split the silence.
“Shit,” Connor said, his voice from somewhere behind me. At first, I thought he said it in response to Eric’s reaction, but then, I saw them. Five officers edged out from the pines behind Eric.
“Call. Our. Father.” His voice was raw, cracking. His fingers twitched on the trigger, focusing it on me again. “I want him to hear you cry for your life. Like your mother did.”
White-hot rage snapped through me, so sharp I could taste it. My vision blurred. Every muscle in my body coiled. Kinsley’s fingers brushed against mine. A touch, light as a feather.
I exhaled and stretched my neck. “You’ll have to make me.”
Another gunshot ripped through the night.
Chapter Forty-Five
Kinsley
The police station was cold,or maybe it was just exhaustion weighing me down. I stretched out my legs, stifling a yawn. Thomas glanced at his watch, and instinctively, I did the same. 12:01. A new day. We’d been sitting here for—my brows knitted together. I remembered seeing the fireworks from the car, so about two hours now.
“Any minute now,” Kevin muttered, repeating the same words he had every ten minutes.
Connor appeared, his arms full of snacks and coffee. “Aaliyah let me into the Sunnyside,” he said, forcing a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He handed me a bag, and I inhaled the sweet scent of a croissant.
“Thanks,” I mumbled, then turned to Thomas, who hadn’t reacted yet. “Hey,” I nudged him gently. His gaze flicked to me, like he was shaking off some faraway thought. “You should eat.”
He blinked at Connor, only now registering the food in front of him. He straightened on the bench and took a slow, mechanical bite of the chocolate muffin his brother gave him.
“I’m sorry for—” I hesitated, my fingers tightening around the paper bag. “For how it turned out.”
We started this knowing it might not end happily, but until last night, there had been hope. Now that hope lay shattered at our feet. And we still didn’t even know how much worse it could get.
The door opened, the one behind which Kevin’s dad was interrogating Eric Jones.Ethan Bowman.Isaac stepped out, and the four of us sat up straighter.
“Well,” he exhaled, rubbing a hand down his face, “at least he’s singing like a bird.”
I frowned. Even back in the clearing, it had felt strange. Like Eric couldn’t wait to tell us everything. Even when he was taunting us. He wanted our attention. He craved it.
“There’s something else,” I said, standing. All eyes turned to me, some cautious, some curious. “I might be crossing a line here, but… Kevin told us about your father. About how close he got to uncovering the truth.” I wet my lips. “I found these notes in the Jones’ apartment.” I turned my phone toward Isaac. His eyes scanned the screen. “They’re all poisons that cause?—”
“Fatal cardiac arrest,” he finished, his expression darkening. I nodded.
“You think Pops was poisoned?” Kevin shot up.
“I didn’t. Not at first,” I shook my head. “But?—”
Isaac turned on his heel and disappeared back inside. The door closed with a thump.
I turned to Kevin, offering a weak, apologetic look. “It might not be the case.” I really hoped it wasn’t. I sat back down, feeling the weight of it settle. The not knowing. The waiting. Then, warmth.
