Page 5 of The Players

As Mills said this, he gave me a sidelong glance. They were always doing this, hedging their words around me, gauging my expression to see if their words would thrust me back into the trauma I’d felt when I'd first found my parents dead and then again when the police ruled that it had been a murder-suicide with my father behind the gun. Not only was this completely false and devastating, it also meant my grandmother and I got no life insurance which is what led us into the kind of debt that threw her into a diabetic coma a few weeks ago.

Yes, I'd been through a bunch of bad shit, but I was made of strong stuff.

"I'm OK," I said, trying to reassure them. "You can stop looking at me like I'll break to pieces every time we mention Easton’s father. I’m not some breakable doll."

"We're going to find out the truth," Hector said, grabbing my hand. "Then we'll clear your father's name."

"One thing at a time." I gave him a thankful smile.

A ringing phone cut through the silence.

We glanced up to see Mills holding his phone. His eyes were wide as he turned them toward us.

"It's an unknown number."

Everyone stared as Mills answered it and put it on speaker phone.

"Hello?" he said.

"Vivian Romero, she's listening, right?" A voice I'd never heard before sizzled out of the phone and floated right at me.

Mills gripped the phone with white knuckles and brought it up to his lips. "Listen here, you fuckers—"

"No,youlisten. If you want the information you seek, you will meet us at the south side docks tonight at midnight. Bring only yourselves. We will know."

"Hold on," Mills said, but the phone clicked.

The person on the other end had hung up.

Lowell ground his teeth while Mills stared at his phone like it had betrayed him. I was the first one to break the silence.

"Well, boys. It looks like Easton has made the first move. Let's make sure we're ready for him."

Chapter three

Thedockcouldnothave been creepier if it had been staged by Tim Burton himself.

The long wooden dock stretched from the grassy bank to the black water, looking like a scene from the movie,Halloween. A nearly full moon hung in a cloudless sky. The water was as still as glass with tendrils of fog rolling off like phantoms. Bare tree limbs reached from either side, grasping at the darkness with gnarled fingers. The wind stirred the fall leaves, making tiny leaf tornados before dropping them into dark corners of the parking lot.

I shivered and ran my hands down my arms as a chill October wind cut through my jacket. At least we had moonlight and the headlights of Mills’ car, scuttling across the lot like twin bands of protection. I knew headlights couldn’t stop Easton Hill, but at least it wasn’t pitch black. At least I had the boys beside me.

"This is bullshit." Lowell sucked down the last of a cigarette, the cherry blazing red against the dark before he flicked it into the gravel. The moonlight shone off the shoulders of his leather jacket, which must’ve helped cut the chill of the damp October night.

"We knew Easton would fuck around with us," Hector said, casting his eyes around the gravel parking lot. It was empty save for Mills' SUV and the weeds no one bothered to pull. The dock was on a small local lake and was frequented during the spring and summer months, but it sat empty in the fall. The side road, which led us here, was also quiet as a grave.

No witnesses. No one to hear you scream.

The perfect place to ambush your enemies.

“What the fuck is he playing at?” Mills said, pacing. He’d worn a form-fitting, black Henley and black jeans that hugged his muscular thighs. I’d also gone for practical instead of sexy, with a sweater, leggings, and a jacket, my hair stuffed in a knit cap. This felt like a time when being able to survive might trump looking cute for my boyfriends.

Boyfriends?Weird. I wished I had more time to think about that instead of worrying that every noise was Easton rushing out to bash my brains in.

The tension hung around us as thick as the fog on the lake. We whirled at every branch creek and jumped at every sound.

Then headlights pierced the night. Heading right this way.

Mills put an arm around me. Lowell and Hector formed a wall of muscle between me and the approaching car. I’d never felt more protected… or more scared for them.

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