What do I do now? I wipe away the tears falling down my cheeks. Crying won’t help. I need to get out of here and find Lionel. He’ll know what to do. I look around and find nothing but the same forest from last night, looking thicker and denser down here.
I need to go back up. My eyes scale the steep rocks in front of me, intently searching the face for any sign of a path. I encounter nothing but tiny crevices in the sheer rock and the rope they used last night. Apparently, that’s my only option.
Sighing heavily, I trudge toward Tommy, my feet shuffling through the rocky bank, and stop. My lips curl as I stare down at him. His beefy fists are curled into his side, knuckles raw and bruised. A stark reminder of what he did to me last night. The urge to kick him over and over races through me. and I raise my foot, letting it hover over him for the longest time, but then I use it to shove him onto his back.
Reaching down, I pat his front right pocket and find what I need. My nose wrinkles in disgust, but it’s my best shot of getting out of here quickly. I slip my fingers into his wet jeans and dig until I find the keys to that loud and obnoxious truck of his. Pulling them out, I carefully tuck them into my pocket and step over his prone body.
On the ground behind him, a buzzing sound comes from the black cased phone on the ground. I stare at it, wondering who is calling, when a thought hits me. I bite my lip, contemplating what to do, and realize I don’t have a choice. Snatching it up, I hurry back to Trent and pat him down until I find his phone too. Slipping each of them into my back pockets, I race to the rope.
Time to get the hell out of here.
CHAPTER10
WILLA
What took them minutes to descend takes me an hour to climb. Heaving myself to the top of the cliff, I lie there on my stomach, breathing rapidly while I stare down at the two bodies below. Tommy looks bloated in the mid-day sun, but Trent’s handsome as ever… Well, except for the red mark around his neck. For a second, I see the broad, blinding smile he used to throw around carelessly.
Dread coils in my stomach, and my breath catches. I didn’t check his pulse. Is it possible he’s still alive? Worried, I stare at him for several minutes. Is he smiling? I squint in the bright sun. Nothing. There’s not a single movement or twitch. He’s not smiling. I take a deep breath in and hold it, then breathe out. Obviously, my extreme guilt is trying to convince me I didn’t kill two people last night.
Unsure, I can’t help but stare at Trent as I nervously stand and quickly pull up the rope. Stupid, but I don’t trust anyone right now. Not even myself. Once it’s on top of the jagged cliff, I heave it onto my shoulder and stalk over to throw it in the back of the truck.
Hopping into the driver’s side, I pull out their phones and toss them into the passenger seat, knowing I’ll have to ditch them. Whoever keeps calling Tommy might decide to use the location app, and I can’t take the chance they’ll find him here.
The engine roars to life, and the truck rumbles underneath me. Thankfully, I’m tall enough to reach the pedals and comfortably drive this massive beast. Turning around on the driveway, I floor it. Rocks and dirt spray up under the truck and behind me. I desperately hope these ruts lead to a main road.
Fifteen minutes later, I pop out of the trees and come to a stop in front of a paved two-lane road. At least it’s not dirt. My eyes dart from right to left. There are no signs to tell me where I’m at, and there’s no traffic going by either. Leaving the truck running, I hop out and walk into the middle of the road, hoping to spot something farther down to help me decide.
I get to the center line, look down the road to the left, then swing around and look to the right. It’s road and trees as far as I can see, which means I’ll have to guess. With a sigh, I turn back to the truck, and that’s when I see the faintest impression right in front of the tires. It would have been impossible for me to see from inside the cab, but standing here, I get a clear view of the dusty tracks heading right out of the driveway.
Jumping back into the truck, I turn right and press hard on the gas pedal, hoping I’m not wrong and this is the way back to town. The road continues on and on, forest on both sides, for another twenty minutes until I hit an intersection. Stopping at the light, I see a sign for the interstate and hit the blinker. Traffic clears, and I make the turn. As I do, I see a brown sign to help visitors find the entrance for the Shanty Lake State Resort Park, and I know exactly where I’m at—only twenty minutes from home.
Breathing a deep sigh of relief, I get on the southbound interstate and head toward safety. Along the way, I use the sleeve of my shirt to wipe the phones as best as I can and throw them out the window at two different intervals, hoping it throws off their location for at least a while. Trent’s a senator’s son, though, so I doubt it will work for long.
Finally, I spot the brown house Lionel purchased long ago, and it’s as if a dam breaks inside me. Tears stream down my face. I didn’t think I’d ever see it again. Or him. Loud sobs fill the cab as I hunch over the steering wheel, unable to do anything but cry.
The truck door swings open, and a gun appears in my peripheral vision. “Hands up.”
I raise my shaking hands.
“Get out of the truck nice and slow. That’s it.”
My voice cracks as I say his name, “Lionel.”
He swears up a storm, and the gun disappears. Strong hands clasp my shoulders as he hauls me the rest of the way out of the truck and into his arms. The scent of his old-fashioned vanilla shaving cream is the most comforting cloak.
“Damn it, Willa. Where the hell have you been? I’ve been worried sick about you.”
Lionel rocks back and forth, his hand cradling my head. “Some fool left a note. As if I’d believe it.” He snorts, but I can hear the worry in his voice.
“I killed them,” I whisper, not wanting to say the words out loud, but knowing he needs to understand the seriousness of the situation. I pull back and stare at his deeply lined face, tears and snot running down mine. “With water.” The sheer disbelief in my voice is still there, even after the proof of the night.
He briefly closes his eyes. “I hoped your powers would never surface. Your parents did, too.”
“So, it’s true?” I ask, blindsided by his answer. That means other things could be true too. “Trent said… his father had files on my parents. On my dad. Said he could control air.” My lips stumble over the words, floundering under the weight of everything.
Lionel’s green eyes sharpen. “Trent who?”
Askance, I stare at him. “Trent. The football player I’ve been tutoring. The one I ran into that day on the lawn.”
