Page 50 of Pretty Poisoned

"It's okay," Declan says, sitting beside me. "You're having a panic attack. Just try and relax. Drop your head and focus on my voice. Breathe, Teagan."

It's not. It's not okay in any way, and I know that. Here I am with a dead body at my feet…again. And it's my fault…again.

"No one did anything wrong here, Teagan," Declan says, running his hand down my back. "Everything is going to be fine. This is all fine. It's just…the way it's supposed to be." He reaches for my chin with bloody hands and turns my face toward him. "And if you can stop overthinking it, I think you'll see the beauty in it."

"What?"

I look up and see three figures crossing the yard toward us, two carrying shovels.

"Oh my god!" Brady's voice comes out as a high-pitched scream when he sees Layla on the ground. "Oh, fuck. Shit." He turns and vomits into the grass, and once he stops, he begins to sob.

"It's all right," Rhett says, rubbing his back.

"But she was—"

"She was in a lot of pain, honey," Rhett says.

"Brady, we don't have time for this," Declan says.

"Just give him a minute," Rhett says. "He'll be okay. Brady, we're going to go pick a nice spot by the river to bury our friend, okay? Don't you think she'd want you to do that for her?"

"Y-yes," he says through sobs.

"Where's Eli?" Declan asks Luca.

He shrugs. "Out, I guess."

"Fine. We need to move now. Rhett and Brady, come with me. Teagan…you're with him."

"But what…what am I supposed to do?" I ask.

He kneels beside Layla, caressing her cheek before running his fingers through the blood dripping from her mouth. He then stands in front of me, grabs me by the chin, and forces those bloody fingers past my lips and onto my tongue. "You're a part of us," he says. "You're going to get her ready."

Declan takes off toward the woods with Rhett and Brady behind him. I look at Luca and watch him shake out a white sheet and lay it flat in the grass.

"Help me move her," he says. "Grab her ankles. I'll get her shoulders. Set her on the edge, and then we're going to roll her up, okay?"

I open my mouth to protest, but no sound comes out.

"Teagan, don't make this difficult," he says. "She's going to be a lot harder to move on my own; don't make me have to cut her into smaller pieces."

"What?!"

"I'm kidding, Teagan," he says, laughing. "I'm not going to cut my friend up. Just help me, okay?"

"That's your idea of a joke? You're making jokes right now?"

He sighs and places a hand on each of my cheeks. "Teagan, baby. Look at me."

I shake my head. "No."

"Look at me, Teag."

He rests his forehead on mine, and I force myself to look up into his emerald-green eyes.

"That's better," he says softly, nuzzling my face with his own. "Help me, Teagan. Okay? You don't have anything to worry about. I'll take care of you."

"Okay," I whisper.

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