Page 106 of Liars and Liaisons

Me: What do you mean I don’t need to worry about him?

Priya: No one’s seen or heard from him since this morning.

38

I can’t stopthe scream that rips from my throat as I’m yanked backward.

Can’t stop myself from slipping or being dropped into the puddle of blood still leaking from Micah’s corpse.

Oh my God.My chest cramps, caving in with the realization. Nausea rumbles in my stomach, angry and broken, as agony attempts to swallow me whole.

Tears sting my eyes, but I don’t have the chance to really let any of it soak in before I’m being pawed at once more. My assailant grips under my arms, and I try to ignore the fact that their hands are wet. Probably for the same reason mine now are.

Panic wraps its phantom limbs around my throat, constricting until I can barely focus on escape. Two deep breaths in, one out, and I let the person haul me back to my feet before ramming my elbow into their face.

A feminine grunt puffs near my ear, and I whirl around, ready to strike once more. My hands frantically search my sides for Elena’s knife, and I fish it out, flipping it open as I brace myself.

But when I turn, it isn’t an evil masked figure standing there, ready to off me for overdue debts. It isn’t even Nate.

Willow’s hunched over the island, cupping her right eye with one palm. Her striped pajama shorts are stained, her white tank top shredded almost in half.

The visible swatches of her golden-brown skin are flecked with crimson, and my heart spasms inside my chest.

I open my mouth to ask what the fuck is going on, but she leaps toward me, slamming her hand down over my lips. A swift shake of her head, and then she pulls me away from Micah, away from the carnage and into a walk-in pantry.

She eases the door shut behind us, then finally releases me. She presses herself into the door, cupping her face in her hands. Neither of us speaks, as if listening for something.

I’m not sure what’s out there, but clearly, whatever it is has a malevolent spirit.

I breathe slow, my brain struggling to catch up to everything that’s happened. I want to ask Willow who did that to Micah, if they’re in the house, if we’re in danger—though that last part seems self-explanatory. Why else would we be hiding?

Willow’s shoulders shake, and it takes me a second to realize she’s crying.

Silent, strangled sobs rack through her, evidenced only by her muffled breathing. “She’sdead,” she chokes, her voice just barely a whisper, and when she turns her head, a few tears of my own spill down my cheeks, matching hers.

Despair is a pit in my stomach as I reach out, pulling her to me; I wrap my arms around her head, and she buries her face in my chest, a solitary noise of anguish exiting her and rattling me to the bone. I smooth my palm over her head, while my own tears pour down, wetting my hand.

“We came down to get snacks,” Willow whispers, her breath hot on my neck. “H-he came out of nowhere. Hit me in the eye with somestickthing and then…”

Another broken sound cuts her off, and I hold her tighter.

“I ran. He was standing over her, playing with her while she wept and pleaded, and then there was this awful gurgling sound—” She gags, as if replaying the scene in her mind.

Pinching my eyes shut, I push her away, holding her at arm’s length. When I open them again, she’s the complete picture of despair, and I wish more than anything that I could do something for her. Take the pain away, erase the images that will no doubt haunt her forever.

But I can’t. Not right now, probably not ever.

None of it matters anyway if we’re next.

“Did you see who it was?” I ask, keeping my voice quiet as floorboards creak all around us.

She shakes her head. “No. I just saw that he was tall and wore a mask. The goat one Grayson favors, I think.”

Impersonating Grayson to frame him for murder seems like something Nate would do. Especially with him so intent on destroying his brother’s entire life. What better way to really strip someone of everything, just before you kill them?

I nod, pressing my ear to the pantry door. Other than the house’s normal moaning and groaning, I don’t hear anything. “Okay, we’ve got to get out of here then. I think there might be something going on with the estate’s security system that’s blocking my ability to call or text. Have you been able to get a signal on your phone?”

“I left it upstairs.”

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