I tell pretty much the whole story, right up through tonight.
But I never mention how Zale’s touch makes me tingle. Or how his skin feels against mine. How I wonder what it would be like to kiss him.
I do tell him how Zale says Dempsey Fontenot didn’t kill Ember and Orli, though. And I guess that’s about all Hart can take.
“Jesus Christ, Greycie. Stop it! Just stop it! Listen to yourself for a minute!” Hart runs both hands through his tangled hair like he wants to pull the curls out. “They found them on his property. Not ten feet from his goddamn back door. And everybody knew he was a freak.”
“Honey doesn’t believe he did it. She says –”
“I don’t give a flying fuck what Miss Roselyn said!” he roars. He’s suddenly on his feet, and I’m still sitting on the boardwalk, with my legs dangling over the edge. I’m afraid to move. Hart’s never yelled at me like this.
“Zale wouldn’t lie to me.” My voice is so quiet. Like Evie’s. It gets lost. Swallowed up by the night sounds.
Hart looks at me like I’ve lost my mind.
“He wouldn’t lie to you? Jesus! You gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me, Grey! He wouldn’t lie to you? Listen to yourself! Everybody fuckin’ lies!”
Not everybody.
Not Zale.
“Goddammit, Grey! This asshole blows in here and fills your head with all kinds of bullshit, and you take every word that falls out of his mouth like it’s the gospel truth?”
I open my mouth to argue. But then I close it again.
My mind is racing. I want to tell him that’s not what happened. But I can’t.
Because what if he’s right?
“Fuck!” Hart whirls around and kicks a metal bucket that’s sitting up on the boardwalk. I duck and it goes flying over my head. I hear it land in the mud, and there’s the unmistakable growl of a pissed-off Willie Nelson.
“Don’t you get it?” Hart’s dark eyes are glowing with rage. It scares me. He’s got the same wild look he had that night he almost killed Case on the dock. “He’s the one, Greycie! Your fucking secret boyfriend in the woods!”
“I never said he was –”
But I know he can feel it.
“He’s the fucking one!”
My head hurts. Everything hurts. And I’m so tired. “What do you mean, the one?”
Hart drops to a crouch right beside me. His breath is hot and angry in my face.
“He’s the one who killed Elora.”
“No,” I say. I’m shaking my head. “No way. That’s not true.”
It can’t be true.
I’m panicking. I shouldn’t have told him. I should’ve known that’s what he’d think. Where his mind would go. Because Hart doesn’t know Zale. He doesn’t know how gentle he is.
How beautiful.
He’s never seen the aching honesty in his eyes.
But I have.
And I’ve felt it in his touch.
“Listen, Greycie. Just listen. This guy, he meets Elora. Like you said. And they strike up this secret friendship. Right?”
“Stop it.” I’m pleading with him. “It’s not true.”
“And she doesn’t tell a soul. Nobody. Not even me. Then . . . what . . . a month later . . . bam. Elora’s dead.” He runs a hand through his hair again. Those curls. “Missing. Whatever.” He looks at me, waiting for some kind of response. But I don’t know what to say. “Don’t you think that’s fuckin’ weird?”
“I –”
Hart doesn’t give me a chance to form a whole thought. “Don’t you get it?”
“Get what?” I ask him.
“You’re next.”
I remember Honey’s old warning.
The lightning hunts us.
She’s been telling me that forever. Since I can remember.
“Don’t,” I say. “Don’t say that. You’re wrong.” I feel Zale’s gentle hand on my cheek. His strong arms carrying me to his boat. “If he came back here to find out what happened to his father, why would he want to kill Elora?” It doesn’t make sense. “Why?”
“Come on.” Hart yanks me up. I yelp and try to jerk my arm away, but he’s too strong. And he’s already dragging me down the boardwalk after him, like I’m some kind of rag doll.
“What are you doing? Hart! Stop!” He ignores me. His grip on my arm is crushing, and I’m barely able to stay on my feet as I trail along behind him. “Slow down! You’re hurting me!”