Page 131 of The Deceptions
I heave a breath as I stand over Livy's grave. A rock from my run the day before sits on top, shiny and black. Something that she would have loved if she were still here. I can almost see the smile on her pristine face. It brings butterflies to my stomach and rage through my veins. She should be here. We should have been there for her...
I shake my head. Before I can think, I leave it all behind. Forgetting about my duties for one second in my life. I just need to breathe. To live. To feel what I'm feeling deep inside. I want to shout into the trees and let my voice roar to fix the pain festering beneath my flesh. If I had a choice, I would run away. Run to the tallest mountain, find a cabin, and hide for eternity. I'd get a new name and face. Like an undercover agent. Or a ninja. Or something. Fuck. I run my fingers through my hair, pulling at the ends, sucking in several deep breaths meant to calm me. I squeeze my eyes shut and step through the cemetery's back gate. The party booms behind me, leaving the remnants of what I once enjoyed.
But I'm no longer that person.
I'm different.
And it all changed the moment the girl I loved stopped breathing, and I watched as her body was lowered into the damn ground.
"Fuck," I grunt, stumbling over my feet and falling forward. My only saving grace is my hands instinctively coming out and cushioning my fall. "Fuck," I groan, lying on my back and staring up at the trees swaying in the wind. The stars aren't viewable from here.
"Help," a muffled voice says from somewhere around me.
I squint my eyes, jolting upright. Some fucker must have stumbled out here from the party. Idiot. Don't they know ghosts live in these woods, haunting anyone who waltzes through. Or at least, that's the rumor: Greenwood Cemetery and Hell's Hollow possess the most ghosts in the county. Not sure if I believe it or not, but I might see a real-life ghost for the first time ever.
Or not.
I stiffen when my eyes adjust to the darkness of the forest. The moon doesn't break through the tops of the trees, leaving me in a dim world. Only when I'm able to pull my phone out and turn on my flashlight do I see what's happening. It's not a partygoer dying from alcohol poisoning or a person who just saw a ghost. Nope.
It's a dude, covered in blood, lying on the forest floor.
"What the fucking hell?"I shout, crawling on my hands and knees to the man lying on his back between a few large trees. I can't make out his clothing or his face. Not until I get to him.
"Help me," he rasps, his eyes rolling into the back of his head like he's ten seconds away from expiring. Shit! I'm a medical student; I should know how to fix this.
"Shit fuck!" I shout, pressing my fingers into the side of his neck. "Weak pulse," I say to myself, dialing 911 and explaining the situation as best I can. The dude needs help. "Help is on the way, man," I say, looking him over with my flashlight, trying to save the dude's life. I don't know what the hell he got into, but someone tore him up. I turn pale at the sight of stitches working up both sides of his body. My mind goes to dark places. Especially after what happened to the kid last year and all his missing organs. Something the authorities have yet to solve. Not that they want to. But that's beside the point. "What the hell happened to you?" Remain calm. Don't show him how freakedout you are right now. He's just a dude who got hurt in the woods. Nothing more.
"It was them..." he trails off through a gurgle in his throat.
Oh, hell no. That better not be the death gurgle bubbling up his throat. This asshole needs to live so we can get some clues as to what is happening.
"Them? Who the fuck is them? What's your name?" I illuminate his body again, trying to memorize the details of his injuries, and fuck, I almost wish I hadn't. "How the fuck are you still alive?" I sit back on my heels, taking in the massive amounts of blood around him. It stains the leaves and the dirt.
"D-dane..." he gasps out one last time before his body goes limp.
"Well fuck..." I breathe, watching as he dies right before my eyes.
I'm no stranger to death. I wish I was, though. So, this isn't the first time something like this has happened. It won't be the last in my line of work. But fuck. Why did it have to be me? I swear the stars fucking hate me. I dig through his pockets, not caring about my damn fingerprints and take out his driver's license and school ID. Dane Moore. He was a senior at Greenwood.
I need to get the fuck out of here before the cops show. They have my number. They'll track me down if they'd like. But I'm in a much better position being at the mansion with Franco a call away than here in the woods with bloodthirsty cops ready to pin this on me. Ain't no way that's happening to me. Even if Franco has them in his pocket, there's always one cop who wants to show the world the bad guys and try to come out on top. Me and the authorities? We don’t mix. I’d rather have Franco take care of it all.
I step back, leaving all his identification on his body, and bring my phone to my ear. "Dude," I say, slowly walking throughthe woods toward our house, attempting to move quickly but not run. "There's a body in the fucking woods. Call off the party and meet me at home. We need to talk about what the fuck I just found."
"Fuck you talking about?" Hux grunts through the phone, with noise infiltrating from the background.
"It happened again. Senior. Tell JJ. Meet me at home." I repeat my words, hoping he understands why I'm so cryptic. He should. We've been best friends and brothers for years now. I know everything about the fucker. Like his nose twitches before he sneezes. Or when his lids droop right before he tells a lie. I know Huxley better than I know myself sometimes. And that says a lot.
"Fuck. Brief me at home." Hux hangs up on me as I make my way, weaving between the tall trees and finally up the path to our home. The sight of the daisies in the bright moonlight brings me one small ounce of joy. Something that won't happen over the next few hours.
The music in the graveyard abruptly ends, and voices rise as Hux sends everyone home for the night. The echoes of their displeasure ring through the air. Too bad. So sad. Go back to your dorm rooms and pout about it. We've got a real issue at hand.
Fucking murder.
"A body? A student?"Hux asks, pacing the kitchen with a beer in his hand. Quickly, he sips it before slamming it on the countertop, nearly cracking it in half. How it hasn't shattered, I don't fucking know. "Fuck! It's already all over the damn SlamApp!" He thrusts his fist into the fridge, grunting when it rocks hard several times. His back heaves until he turns around, looking calmer than he was ten seconds ago.
I frown, staring at my hands. The moment I came inside, I washed the blood from them and watched it go down the drain, staining it red.
"How?" I groan, throwing my head back. "I was the only one there. How could anyone know?" I narrow my eyes when Hux's shoulders heave, and he turns back to me.
