Page 62 of Forget Me Not

Big mistake, Wildcat.

She pulls off the gloves and tosses them in the hole, along with the spade, and plastic bag. A smart move, I might add.

Then using her shoe, she begins filling the hole back up with dirt. When everything is buried and nothing is left but a mound of dirt, she packs it down with both feet until it's flat.

I click a few more shots, then turn around to leave the same way we came. Long strides lead me out of the cemetery, and I'm confident I've put enough distance between us.

The element of surprise is in my favor when I use the key I had copied to enter Rhea’s room.

Then, I sit on her bed and wait with the proof I’ve just captured.

Rhea thinks she’s going to leave Lockhaven, but I’ve just ensured she stays a little longer.

I’ve been waiting in the parking lot for over an hour while the little prick lifts weights. My patience is wearing thin. I've gotta get back to Rhea to make sure she isn’t packing a bag or running her mouth, so he needs to wrap this shit up.

A couple days ago, I found out the name of the fucker who made Rhea cry at the tavern. I spent the days that followed learning Nick’s routine. Every day after school, he has football practice, then he goes to the gym and works out for another hour. And after that, he jogs home for the exercise. His house is only a half mile away, so there isn’t much distance between here and there to do what needs to be done.

I contemplated different ways of taking him out, but this is the cleanest, quickest way.

More time passes and when I see the side doors to the high school gym open, I straighten my back in the seat of my car. Once I see that it’s him, wearing that same jacket with a backpack pulled over his shoulders, I start the engine, keeping my headlights off.

I give him a head start and when he’s on the road running, I creep slowly out of the parking lot.

Stealing a glance in my rearview mirror, I make sure there are no witnesses before flooring the gas pedal. The tires squeal with excitement as my car lurches forward at full speed and his body slams against the bumper with an echoing boom. It’s a beautiful symphony that sends a wave of energy through me.

I slam on the brakes and spin the steering wheel so fast my tires screech. I floor it again, riding over his body for safe measure.

I bring the car to a screeching halt and jump out of the driver's door. Moving quickly, I go to where he's lying on the street, a pool of blood surrounding him while more continues to flow like a river down the asphalt.

Kicking his body over with the toe of my boot, it's confirmed that he's dead. Vacant eyes stare up at me and I only wish they could see the sickening smile on my face.

I crouch down beside him, grab the sleeve of his thick jacket, and rip it away. A wallet falls out of the pocket and I leave it lying there as I roll him onto his side and pull the other sleeve off.

"No one makes my girl cry and gets away with it."

Standing up, I square my shoulders, a newfound rage pumping through my veins. In one swift movement, I bring my boot up and stomp it into his face, feeling the crunch of bone as his nose flattens.

Satisfied, I leave him there to rot until someone finds him. Unfortunately, it won't be long enough.

ChapterTwenty-One

RHEA

It’s done.Not even a speck of dirt under my nails. Alaric thinks he can use a murder he committed to try and sway me, but he’s fucking with the wrong girl.

He’s all but admitted, without even speaking to me, that he’s the one who hit and killed Nick. Now he’s fooling Taryn, Gladys, Sheriff Guthrie, and probably everyone else in this town. Before long, they’ll all be wrapped around his finger.

It’s okay, though. They can feel however they want about Alaric. I know the truth and with that knowledge, I plan to walk the straight and narrow, steering clear of his path to self-destruction.

Feeling a bit better now that the jacket is out of my possession, I walk down the hall to my room. I pull my key out of my pocket and stick it in the lock. Only, when I turn the handle, I find that it’s not locked at all.

Holding my breath, I push the door open, coming face to face with Alaric sitting on my bed. I release all the air from my lungs in one hefty exhale as I try to convince myself not to rip out my hair in frustration.

“Seriously?” I scoff, walking into the room and slamming the door behind me. “Don’t you have anything better to do than torment me?”

He leans back on the bed, his elbows pressed to the mattress and a grin on his face. “Not really.”

I shake my head, taking slow and steady breaths to keep myself calm. “Get out.”

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