Page 18 of Murder

“Thanks—but I’ll be okay.”

His voice sounds rough and tired, and that’s the last thought I have before he turns and takes a stride away from me, back toward the Haywood land. His land. My eyes, again, get hung up on his body: the broad, strong shoulders and that carved-from-marble back, inked with emblems I can’t make out, flexing, tossing shadows as he moves.

Wait!

As if he hears the thought, he turns. “Gwenna?” The word, my name, shoots through me like an arrow.

“Yeah?” I whisper.

His eyes narrow into troubled slits. “Be careful out here.”

Unlike his other words, these parting ones seem heated—almost harsh. I don’t ponder their meaning until he’s disappeared into the trees, and I realize I haven’t moved at all.

Shame clots in my chest, thick and aching.

I want more.

I’ve missed this. God—this feeling.

I should have dragged him with me. I should have followed him to his place. Why’d I let him go?

I’m swamped by hunger—sharp, familiar. Wolf’s teeth on my own heart. Want.

I psych myself out, taking breaths so big they start to feel like not enough. I scrub my face with my hands and I look up at the pale blue sky through a web of craggy limbs.

He doesn’t need you. You’re the problem.

Check on him. You can. You should.

BARRETT

I make it almost to the house before the chaos in my head and the echo in my body take me down.

I feel the dirt under my knees. I press the shirt against my head.

“You think you can walk, man?”

Is that Breck? I can’t see…

“Bear, get up, we’ve gotta go!”

The frenzied du-du-du-du-du of small arms fire is everywhere. Low shouting. The pop of metal on metal. I hear something snapping. Something…roaring. Rounds and more rounds. I’m not sure where I am, but it’s fucking hot. Not just ‘happening’ hot. Hot hot, too.

I start to cough. My throat and nostrils sting. Someone is pulling on me. I can’t open my eyes. They’re clamped shut…with something sticky.

“C’mon, bro—or I’ll have to carry your big ass!”

That is Breck. I lift my left arm and try to wipe my eyes but—

“Fuck!” I sag back to the ground, gasping. Something’s in my shoulder. My arm… “FUCK!”

I feel his hand rub over my eyes, hear him firing. I can smell smoke…really strong.

“My eyes,” I rasp.

“Fuck your giant, heavy ass…” But Breck gets me up. Everything is smeared and there are bright flames. Lots of smoke. Despite its thickness, I feel my head clearing.

I try to reach for my eyes once more, too addled to remember— “Aughh!”

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