Page 88 of Pretty Black

I called Marc as I forced the pedal to the floor.

I called him again. No answer.

I called my mother—no answer.

FUCK.

I hit every light.

I swerved around cars, trying to fit through the gaps, riding the shoulder, but they closed in around me. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t see through the tears.

I pounded on the steering wheel.

My phone buzzed in my lap. Shaking hands clicked answer at seeing my mother’s contact.

“Marc tried to kill himself.”

“Tried?” I barely managed.

“His father cut him down and did CPR until the ambulance got here. They’re taking him to the hospital.”

“Which one?”

“I don’t know. I’m following the ambulance.”

“Where are you going? I’m on my way.”

“St. Marks, I think.”

There were cars everywhere. Accidents. I crawled through the Chicago traffic. I tried to call my mom again, but she didn’t answer. I couldn’t get to him.

It took almost an hour to get to the hospital. I threw the car into the first parking spot I found and sprinted into the ER.

“Black,” I said through gasps.

The look on her face told me everything.

The first time I saw a dead body, it was my brother’s.

Present Day

“Is that what you dream about?” Caspian asked when I fell silent. “Not being able to get to Marc?”

“Constantly. Even when I’m awake. There’s no escape.”

TWENTY-EIGHT

PRESENT DAY

Caspian Locke

The bed was cold when I woke.

At least this time, I knew I wouldn’t find him on the roof.

I moved through the house like a zombie, but my gut told me he was gone.

Long gone.

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