Page 137 of Need You Now

You break it.

A crack. A creak.

The railing snaps.

Her hands fly up and she tries to grab onto something, anything. But Beau’s hitting his knees, dazed, swaying, too drunk to help as he throws up violently on the side of the dock.

Lacey’s world tilts.

And then she hits cold water.

Seth, chewing on a Red Vine, steps into the kitchen, groaning at what he finds there. Everyone but Lacey. This goddamn maze of a house. He fucking hates it.

“You see Lace?” he asks Luke. The Brothers Kincaid, Griff, they’re set up. They’re ready to play and Seth’s itching to find Lacey. To tell her he’s got a song for her. It’s a risky move, a heart-on-his-sleeve gesture playing it in front of everyone, but nothing’s ever felt more right. He wants Lacey to hear it, wants everyone to know what he feels for her.

“No,” Luke replies as he’s tossing Griff a beer. “Sal might’ve.” He nods at the big window where Sal and Alabama are outside stoking the fire pit.

Blowing out a breath, Seth pushes through the sliding door and steps out onto the deck. “Hey,” he says, sidling next to Sal.

“Hey.” She reaches up and steals the Red Vine from his mouth and pops it into her own.

Seth gives her a crooked grin. “That baby’s turnin’ you into a bum.”

“What can I say? It’s a lawless land out here in the country.”

A chuckle rolls out of him. “You seen Lace?” he asks, whisking his hands together. His breath comes in white puffs. “Can’t find her anywhere.”

“Last I saw her, she said she had a phone call she had to take.” Sal steps away from the fire, thinking on it. “Maybe fifteen minutes ago.”

“She’s out on the dock,” Alabama offers, a glass of wine in her hands. She swivels her red head to the choppy waters of the lake. Her lips purse. “That’s funny ... ”

Sal tilts her head. “What is?”

“She was just there ...” Alabama frowns, her gray eyes narrowing.

Puzzled, taking a few steps to the railing, Sal scans the backyard, then the choppy waters of the lake. Seth follows suit. Slanted sunlight casts its shadows. A hunched figure on the dock.

A harsh gasp whitens Sal’s face. “Oh my God.” Horror rises up in the green depths of her eyes. “Oh my God, she’s in the water.”

Seth almost laughs, almost tells Sal she’s nuts, but then the hunched-over figure straightens up, and he sees that it’s Beau, hanging over the edge of the dock, trying to grab at something and failing.

Seth’s heart stops.

Sal’s right.

Someone’s screaming, the sound like a siren, shouting for Luke, for Griff, but Seth doesn’t hear any of it.

He’s already off and running, his chest heaving, picking up speed as he tears down the steps and across the lawn.

Lacey Lacey Lacey.

Her name’s the heartbeat in his ears, the blood in his veins, as he explodes across the frozen earth.

He’s only vaguely aware of the world beside him. Luke bypassing Sal to grab her high around the waist and slam her back into Griff. Sal struggles in Griff’s tight grasp, letting out a sob, cursing him, as Griff drags her back. Because she’d be the next one in that water right after Seth.

Finally, he makes it to the dock.

Beau’s up and staggering. Seth grabs him by the collar, shoving him back toward the splintered railing, ready to kill. “Where is she?” he shouts. “Where the fuck is she?”

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