Page 33 of Into the Dark, We Go
I gave a subtle shrug, and he guided me away from the square, following the siblings, who were walking ahead towards the car.
"This town gives me the creeps," I confessed.
"Every town has a dark story. This one just happens to be about witchcraft and mass deaths."
A thunderstorm was brewing.The sky rumbled like an upset stomach. Nick and I sat on a small hotel balcony, gazing aimlessly at the greenery, unable to leave each other’s sight—Mitchell’s orders. He and June had gone to pick up some food, and the buddy system ensured that no one was alone.
The food we had at the resort earlier was appalling. Every dish was drenched in a sickly, greasy sheen, the meat was tough and dubious, and even the humblest comfort food, mac and cheese, had been transformed into a rubbery, carb-loaded monstrosity. With no other options, Mitchell and June ventured out to find something—anything!—better.
"May I ask a personal question?" Nick lifted his eyes to mine.
I put my phone down, already on alert. "Shoot."
"You holding up?"
I snorted, more out of reflex than humor. That was the personal question?
"Did you look me up?" I asked, cutting straight through it, though I knew the answer. The way he asked, the way he looked at me, it wasn’t just curiosity.
"Yeah," he said without blinking. "Wanted to know who I was working with."
He gave a small smile, softening the joke, but I didn’t return it.
"Then you know enough."
"Not really. Headlines don’t tell the whole story."
"And I’m not about to fill in the blanks. Sorry."
He nodded like he expected that. "Fair."
There was a pause, just long enough to make it feel like something was shifting.
"It won’t suck forever," he said, "No one here thinks anything bad of you. Even June."
I let out a bitter laugh. "Well, she’s the first."
"No, she isn’t."
"Oh yeah? Who else thinks I’m not a serial killer?"
"Sergeant Mitch, for sure." That elicited a laugh from me. Then, with a hint of a smile, he added, "Me."
I wanted to tell him he didn’t need to reassure me. I wasn’t looking for comfort. I just didn’t know what to do with it. But something in me loosened. His words weren’t anything special, but they landed. For the first time in a while, I felt a sense of safety.
He continued after a pause. "Lucas liked you, too, I think. He’d have been a fool not to."
"What makes you say that?"
He hesitated, clearly having revealed more than he intended. "I’m trying to say that even if a fraction of whatever’s on the internet is true, you deserve better."
"Don’t," I warned. I wasn’t sure if he was hinting at Lucas’s cheating or our fights, but I had no intention of discussing it with him, and I certainly wasn’t seeking his validation.
"Sorry."
We sat in silence, our conversation still continuing in my head.
"I loved him," I said abruptly, speaking of Lucas in the past tense for the first time.
