Shit.
I pulled my zipper up, and Luke’s face turned bright red right before he charged me. Before I could react, my back was hitting the frozen lake. My head hit the ice a second before his meaty fist connected with my face, and Sarah screamed for him to stop.
“What the fuck!” I yelled as Luke straddled my torso, gripping the front of my jacket.
“Are you fucking my sister?” he bellowed, landing another punch. Pain radiated through my face.
“Luke! Stop!”
He ignored his sister’s pleas, and we scuffled, rolling around, each of us fighting for the upper hand. I pinned him down, giving him one good hit before I stood to walk away. Luke swung his arm out and grabbed my foot. Reflexively, my arms flew out behind me to catch my fall. I heard rather than felt the snap. I knew before I looked that it was bad, and I was right. My forearm was bent in the opposite direction.
The sight of my arm bent at an unnatural angle, combined with the blinding pain that followed, had me gagging, but I don’t think Luke noticed any of it, because he was on his feet, coming back for more.
“I didn’t fucking touch her!” I shouted through the pain, using my good arm to scramble away, choking back the vomit in my throat. “My fucking arm!” I tried to tell him, but Luke wasn’t listening. He bent down, reaching for me again, but this time I pulled my knees back and kicked both feet into his stomach, sending him flying backward.
That’s when I first felt it. The ice wasn’t thick enough, and it splintered beneath us. It felt like it happened in slow motion, but in reality, we’d only been fighting for seconds. I tried to drag myself toward the edge, but my arm was fucking useless.
Luke yelled as the ice finally gave, and he gripped the edge. His eyes were wild as they locked onto mine. He started to hyperventilate, frantically trying to pull himself over the edge.
Sarah was sobbing now, running toward us, screaming her brother’s name.
“Sarah! Do not walk onto the ice. Call nine-one-one,” I instructed, and she halted where the snow-covered shore met ice, fumbling for her phone. “Luke, try to stay calm.” I kept my voice steady in spite of the excruciating pain that radiated through my entire arm. I remembered hearing somewhere that more often than not, it’s the cold shock that causes sudden death. Not drowning.
I knew I didn’t have long to act. I flipped onto my stomach, one-armed army crawling toward a thrashing Luke. Each time he tried to pull himself up, the ice broke off, submerging him even more. Once I was finally within reach, I extended my good arm—the right one—and told him to grab it.
His hand gripped mine, just like we did when we arm wrestled many times before, and I gritted my teeth, eyes squeezing shut as I mustered all my strength to pull him out.
“Get me out, get me out, get me out!” Luke chanted, completely panicked as I got his top half above water. He lifted a knee onto the ice, and before I could so much as blink, it cracked, giving way under his weight, sending us both under.
The cold was something I never could’ve prepared myself for. It took my breath away, and my heart sped up so fast I thought it would burst out of my chest. I paddled my way toward the surface, using the top half of my broken arm like a wing, as I kicked my feet. As soon as I broke through, I gasped for air, looking around for Luke.
“Where is he?!” I didn’t get an answer. Sarah was wailing, so full of fear and despair that I knew I’d never forget the sound if I lived to see another day. I tried to calm my erratic breathing, knowing that staying calm was crucial, while also knowing it was futile.
Sarah dropped to her knees, digging around in the snow-covered ground, looking for something. I could feel time slipping away, and I did the worst thing I could’ve done in that situation. Taking a deep breath, I dove back in. I opened my eyes underneath the water, searching for any sign of Luke. I moved under the ice, hardly seeing a thing, but finally, I made out a large blurry form.
I went back up for one more deep breath before going back under, moving to Luke as fast as I could. My body felt heavy, but my adrenaline kept me going. Before I could reach him, he started to sink.
No. No, no, no.
Summoning the strength and speed I didn’t know I had, I jetted toward him, managing to clench the hood of his jacket with my fist before he slipped out of reach. I was slow, so fucking slow, pulling him to the surface. His weight threatened to pull us both down and my lungs felt like they were going to burst, but somehow, I managed to get back to the hole we fell through.
“Dare!”
I heard Sarah’s muffled screams as I got closer to the surface, and when I finally broke through, she was lying flat on her stomach with a long branch extended toward us.
I heard the sirens, and I knew I just had to hold on a little bit longer. I tried to push Luke’s limp body onto the ice, but I only succeeded in tiring myself out. I felt like I was fading. Shutting down. Like my life was slipping away. In a last-ditch effort, I clutched Luke’s head to my chest and hooked my broken arm over the branch. I struggled to keep us both above water, my eyes closing, my muscles giving out.
“Just a few more seconds,” I told Luke.
And those were the last words I’d ever say to him, though he never heard them.
Lo’s sniffling brings me back to the present. I can’t meet her eyes, afraid of what I’ll find. “What happened after?” she asks, her voice a broken whisper.
“I don’t remember,” I say truthfully. “I passed out right as we were being rescued. They tried to revive Luke, but…” I clench my eyes shut, shaking the images of his lifeless body out of my mind. “They took me to the hospital, fixed my arm, and treated me for hypothermia for a few days.”
“Dare, you have to know—”
“Here’s what I know, Logan,” I interrupt, the harshness in my tone causing her to flinch. “I know that I delivered the kick that sent my brother, for all intents and purposes, into that water. I killed him. It’s a fact. There is no gray area here, so stop looking for one.” There’s no other way around it. I killed him. I took another life. I stopped a heart from beating.
“You tried to save him,” she argues, and I finally look at her face, hating the mixture of pain and pity I see looking back at me.
“But I didn’t. I couldn’t. And it’s my fault.”
“It was an accident,” she presses.
We’re quiet for a beat. Both of us trying to navigate what this means before she asks, “What set you off?”
“I saw Sarah and her dad at Sissy’s. This time of year always fucks me up, but I hadn’t seen them since that day, and it all came flooding back.”
Lo nods, understanding. “I didn’t believe it, you know. Even when I saw the article, right there in black and white.”
“And why’s that?” I ask, genuinely curious.
“Because, since I’ve met you, you’ve been nothing but good to me. You became mine and Jess’s family when our lives were falling apart. You’re good, even if you can’t see it.”
“So, what does this mean for us?” I ask the only question that matters, brushing a thumb across her slightly swollen lip.
“It means we get to be together without any secrets between us.”
My eyes close, reveling in the relief I feel from her words. “Sometimes, it’s hard for me to come out of the darkness. But I’m trying.”
“I’ll sit with you in the dark. I’m not a fan of the sun anyway,” she says, yawning.
“You are the sun.”
* * *
I CRUNCH THROUGH THE TWIGS and pinecones that litter the soft ground. June in River’s Edge means the snow has finally melted, giving way to lush greenery. Lo sent me a text telling me to meet her at my spot. Don’t ask me what the fuck she’s doing in the middle of the woods at dusk.
It’s been seven months since Lo came to River’s Edge and fucked my world up, in the best possible way. Five since the night all my sins came to light. Eric went to jail for a whole five seconds, much to my dismay, but when h
e returned home, the police were waiting for him. Surprisingly, his wife actually did get help like he told Lo, but his wife had also concocted a plan. Turns out, Eric had a history of hurting women, his wife being his primary victim. She set up a video camera, documented a couple of months’ worth of abuse, and filed for emergency custody. Rumor has it, she and Cayden moved away to start somewhere fresh. Meanwhile, Eric won’t be getting out of prison any time soon.
It isn’t always easy. There are still days when I’m convinced I’m going to hell for what I did, but that’s okay, because Lo brings heaven to me when I get to come home to her, to sink inside her, every single night.
When I finally get to the clearing between the pine trees, I see her standing there, looking nervous as hell. Cut-off jeans so short that they show off a hint of the ink I gave her, her favorite shirt—a baggy D.A.R.E. shirt she found at Goodwill—dirty white tennis shoes, and wild hair in a high ponytail. She twists her hands together, teeth caught between her bottom lip.
“What’s all this, Sally?”
There’s a large wooden crate on top of a blanket and a bunch of throw pillows tossed around. Lanterns hang overhead from a line between two trees, and she has a spread of food and candles on top of the crate.
“Happy birthday,” she says, sounding unsure, her big eyes waiting for my reaction.
“Why do you look so nervous?” I ask, walking toward her. Her shoulders sag, and she rolls her eyes at me.
“Because you hate surprises.”
As a rule, I do hate surprises, but this one I can make an exception for. I chuckle, wrapping an arm around her. She jumps up, her legs circling my waist, both hands on either side of my face. “I love you,” she says before she slips her tongue between my lips. I groan, turning to prop her up against a tree as my hands find her ass. I’ll never get tired of hearing her say those words. I kiss her back, already hard for her. I grind into her heat, and she moans, fingers clutching the back of my neck. I slide a hand to the front of her shorts before slipping a finger inside. She lets me play with her pussy for a minute before pulling away, breathless.
“The food is getting cold,” she breathes, face flushed.
“Fuck the food. I’m craving this,” I say, flexing my hips into her.
“Later,” she insists, straightening her legs and breaking out of my hold. “I worked hard on this.”
“It’s perfect.” And it is. The two things that bring me peace—my spot and my girl.
Lo takes my hand, tugging me toward the piles of pillows and blankets. She brought takeout from my favorite Italian place and cherry danishes for dessert. Lo is tense and quiet through our meal, still appearing nervous. I don’t know what the fuck to make of it, so I ask.
“What else is going on, Lo?”
“I have one more surprise for you,” she admits, seeming almost scared of my reaction.
“What is it?” The way she’s acting has my gut twisting with dread. Lo doesn’t get shy or nervous. What could possibly have her all twisted up? She pulls out her phone, tapping at her screen for a minute before putting it away.
“Five more minutes,” she says cryptically, before crawling across the pillows, coming to sit on my lap, linking her ankles behind my back. “Just remember I love you,” she says. I dip my head, pressing my nose into her neck, unable to resist inhaling her scent and her warmth.
“Dare,” Lo whispers right as I hear footsteps behind me. I tense up, and Lo rubs my back, as if taming a scared animal—which I guess would accurately describe me at this moment. Lo unlatches her legs and stands. I follow her lead and turn around to face whoever it is. Lo tucks her small hand into mine as I look at him, trying to place his familiar face.
“Stefan,” says the deep voice belonging to the man standing across from me in a police uniform. The corners of his eyes crinkle when he smiles at me. “You probably don’t remember me. I’m Officer Davies. The officer who found you.”
As soon as the words are out of his mouth, I’m flooded by memories I didn’t even know I had. Drawing on a notepad in the front seat of his police car, him taking off his jacket and wrapping it around me. Then later, sitting on his lap at the police station as I ate his trail mix, not wanting to separate from the first person to show me kindness in my whole life.
So many emotions slam into me at once, and for a minute, I’m that dirty, neglected four-year-old again. I remember sitting on the cement parking block, feeling cold and hungry and confused. I was trying to stay warm in my Ninja Turtles jacket when a bright light blinded me. Seconds later, Officer Davies came into view, bending over to pick me up.
“I’ve got you, buddy,” he said over and over as he held me, probably more scared than I was.
Letting go of Lo’s hand, I pinch the bridge of my nose, ducking my head, not wanting to give in to the urge to do something stupid like shed a tear. I hear Officer Davies move closer, and then he’s wrapping his arms around me for the second time in twenty-three years. He gives me the man-clap on my back, and when I look up, his eyes are shining with unshed tears.
“I never got to thank you,” I say, my voice thick with emotion before I clear my throat.
“No thanks needed. I’m just glad your girl tracked me down. Throughout my entire career, I’ve wondered where you ended up.”
“You did this?” I ask Lo, who has tears streaming freely down her cheeks. She nods.
“I looked you up. Of course, it didn’t say your name, but I had enough details to find an old article about you. I thought you might like to meet him.”
I hear what she’s not saying. She knows I have no desire to find my mother, so she did the one other thing that could bring me a piece of my past without involving the person who abandoned me. I have so much fucking love for this girl. I hook an arm around the back of her neck, pulling her close and pressing my lips to her forehead. She smiles up at me, and I know she feels the gratitude I can’t put into words.
“I brought these for you,” Officer Davies says, holding out an envelope. I hesitate, not sure I can handle any more of the past. When I take it, I find drawings of stick figures scribbled in pencil. They look as if a kid much younger than four drew them.
“You saved these?” I ask, and he nods. “I think you were the first person to put a pencil in my hand.”
“He’s an artist,” Lo supplies.
“A tattoo artist,” I correct. She gives me too much credit.
“I’ll go ahead and take credit for that then,” Davies says with a chuckle. “I have one you drew for me at home, too.”
I notice a couple of photos behind the drawings, and I look at the pictures of my younger self with detached eyes. There’s one of him holding me in the parking lot, my head on his shoulder and his radio to his mouth. Another of me in a hospital bed—I assume getting checked out after Davies rescued me from freezing temperatures. Another one of me sitting at his desk, a dazed look in my eyes. In every photo, he’s next to me, or in the background. He didn’t leave me once.
I pluck out a picture of me, after a bath by the looks of it. My hair was lighter. It’s strange to see this kid and know it’s me. I’ve never known what I looked like as a child—never thought it was something that mattered, though I did wonder occasionally. It seems like something so…unimportant, but I finally feel like I have some sort of closure. A part of me that I didn’t realize I had been missing. Kind of like how I feel about Lo.
“I’ll let you get back to your birthday,” he says before turning to Lo. “Thanks for making contact, Logan. You’ve made a two-decade-long wish come true.”
Logan peels herself away from me, hugging him around the neck. I hear her thank him softly, but I can’t make out the exact words. He gives her a solemn nod, then turns to leave.
“Have I told you how much I love you, crazy girl?” I say, tugging her back toward me by her belt loop.
“I wouldn’t mind hearing it again.” She smiles, linking her fingers behind my head before kissing the column of my neck. We�
��re interrupted when we hear Davies approaching again.
“I almost forgot. I don’t know where your other stuff ended up, but I was able to save this.”
He tosses me a dark, wadded-up ball of fabric. I untwist the t-shirt, revealing the last thing I thought I’d see. Lo’s eyes shoot up to mine, equal parts amusement and awe swirling in them before she tips her head back, letting out a laugh.
“Jack Skellington.”
THE END
* * *
First and foremost, to the readers, whether you’re just discovering me or have been there since the beginning, thank you. I started Dare’s book about four years ago. It was the first thing I’d ever attempted to write, and I never thought it would see the light of day. So, thank you for wanting his story and helping make that dream a reality.
To my husband who probably wished he could divorce me while I spent hours upon hours writing, thank you for stepping in making sure the kids were fed, bathed, and happy. I love you.
Thank you to my amazing editor Paige Smith who deals with my crazy without complaint, and to Letitia Hasser for spending 2789423050 years on this cover. I’m sorry. You love me. Remember that for next time.
Hey Leigh, remember when Defy was almost called Dare, but then you changed it because you remembered Bad Intentions was titled Dare back then? Also remember how you forced me to write it so you didn’t change the title for nothing? Thank you for believing in me even when I didn’t. Love you.
Ella, you da real MVP. Thanks for always keeping it real. Serena, thank you for everything. You’re irreplaceable. Bex, Melissa, and Melanie, thank you for stopping everything to help me. Love you guys.
To the bloggers, thank you for busting your asses all day every day. I appreciate you. <3
Lastly, Charleigh’s Angels, my reader group, I fucking love you. You’re my happy place. Thank you for all your support.
Bad Intentions (Bad Love) Page 23