Page 49 of Forever After Fall

“Fucking hell,” I mutter under my breath.

“He’ll be fine.” The furrow in Anson’s brow betrays him.

“Eventually. But in the meantime, he’s gonna tell Marlowe. Marlowe’s gonna know I didn’t tell her the truth. She’s gonna hate me for that. Depending on who else he tells, it’s possible Hazel will find out before we can talk to her too.”

“We could head that off at the pass.” Anson holds up his phone.

“I don’t think telling her I’ve been sleeping with her brother via text is going to go over very well.”

“She’ll live.”

“Yeah, but I might not if she finds out I lied to her and Marlowe. Ugh. I feel sick.” I wrap my arms around my middle wishing I’d told everyone the truth a long time ago.

“You didn’t lie. You kept something private. You’re allowed to do that.”

“In our friend group? When it involves their brothers?” I shake my head. “There’s no such thing.” I clutch my stomach, hoping to quell my rising anxiety. I hate the idea of Anson and I only being able to be together alongside the loss of all our friends.

“I’ll talk to Hazel. I can take the heat. I’ll tell them I asked you not to say anything to anyone. That it was my idea. You know they’ll believe that.”

“I don’t want to add more lies to the mix. It’s just gonna be time for me to face the music. Or the inquisition, depending on what mood Hazel is in.” I groan. “What a fucking disaster today is.”

“Not a disaster. Everyone has been loving the event. It’s made more money than any other year. Hazel’s going to love all the changes you made. The event’s a success despite all this today. Don’t let this all get to your head. We’ve got this.” Anson gives me the pep talk I need right now like he can read my thoughts.

I’ll have to hope that’s going to be enough to fix things where Hazel is concerned, or at least dampen the fiery mood she’s likely going to be in. Hazel forgives easy after her temper passes. Marlowe, on the other hand, is going to take a massive apology. I just hope she can forgive me.

So much for midnight on Halloween. Turns out that when the clock strikes, my work will just be getting started.

TWENTY-TWO

Bristol

As I’m hurrying to gather up a few things out of the haunted house, I hear the door open and shut softly behind me. His heavy footsteps follow, one after the other, across the room toward me. I guess Anson wants to talk more about how we’ll deal with Hazel and the rest of the town finding out we’ve been sneaking around. So when he grabs me from behind and pins me to his chest, I’m surprised. The last thing we need is Jasper coming back and thinking we’re doing this on purpose to rub salt in the wound. I hope he’d know neither of us would do that, but I’m extra sensitive to his feelings today. I would have thought Anson would have been too.

“Hey! What if Jasper sees? It’s not a good idea.” I try to curtail the tone of frustration in my voice, but it comes through anyway.

“Why would Jasper care?” The last voice I expect to hear answers me.

I whip my head over my shoulder to see Chris standing there, a lazy smirk on his face. I open my mouth to scream, but nothing comes out. Panic wells in my gut. I wonder for a moment if I’ve hit my head or succumbed to the fumes in the house. He’s clearly still in his Department of Corrections jumpsuit. Dirty and disheveled but otherwise looking like he had when I visited him before our final break.

“What are you doing here?” I hiss. “Put me down.” He doesn’t follow directions, and I squirm in his arms as he tries to pull me tighter. I claw at his arm to get him to release me when he refuses to do what I ask.

“Ow. Fuck. Stop that!” Chris curses. He nearly drops me, so he finally sets me on my feet, maintaining his grip on my arm. “Don’t scream.”

“How are you here?”

“I can explain that in a minute. But we need to find somewhere safe to go.”

“Explain now.” I feel like Anson with my terse words, but I don’t care at this point. There’s only one thing I need to know, and that’s how the hell my ex is out of prison and standing in the middle of this house with me. If it wasn’t haunted before, it definitely is now.

“I think it’s pretty obvious, isn’t it?” he grumbles, annoyed I’m not happier to see him.

“Not in the least. You should be in prison. What do you want?”

“To see you. Obviously.”

“For what?”

“You’re my girlfriend. What do you think?” A snear of irritation mars his face.