Page 8 of Betrayed

Chapter Two

Fifteen Years Ago—October

Seventeen-year-old AJ tossed the air horn to Will as they ran up the steps of the old insane asylum. Logan might need to be admitted after what they had planned. But what she really hoped to come from this little joke was mending a bit of the rift that had formed between them over the last couple of months. He always loved dishing out practical jokes. Now it was his turn to be at the butt of one. She wanted this to end in them laughing, wrapped in each other’s arms.

After he’d kissed her two years earlier in this very place, they’d gotten serious-ish. But six months ago, when her mom had moved out, AJ had gotten self-consumed. She hadn’t meant to push Logan away, but life got busy. He was playing baseball and was always at practice or games. She was busy navigating whose house she was supposed to go to when.

In the lobby of the asylum, Will removed his backpack and took out a white sheet, a pulley system, and some rope. They hung it up so it would fly down the stairs as Logan came through the front door.

AJ checked her watch. They were running low on time. “Hurry, Will.”

“I am.” He tied off the rope, and they darted down the hall and set up another similar contraption.

She took a speaker and old Walkman out of her backpack and set it up behind a door.

Will walked past her and peeked out the window. “He’s here.”

They finished their setup and hid. Armed with the air horn, AJ ran to the end stairwell and up to the top of the stairs.

It didn’t matter how many times they got yelled at for sneaking around this place, they continued to do so. Other than that time she fell through the floor, no one had gotten hurt.

Will had gone to the basement. Whichever way Logan went to find the promised prize, he’d run into one of them eventually.

AJ leaned over the half-wall and watched for Logan. She heard him screech, most likely at the flying “ghost” in the front. He hollered Will’s name and hers.

She waited. It was simply a matter of time before he walked down that hallway and into this stairwell. They’d laid out the clue to bring him this way.

Biting her lip, she prayed. God, help Logan and me figure things out. I hate the weirdness that’s been between us. We had talked about going to the same college next year. Does he even still want that?

Last week she’d seen a flier for a different college sticking out of his notebook in English class. She’d wanted to ask him about it at lunch, but as he’d come to the table with his food, with a smile meant just for her, some of his baseball friends had pulled him aside. And the conversation didn’t happen.

She fiddled with the air horn, holding it at the ready for when Logan walked through the door below.

Something touched her side and snaked around her waist.

She screamed.

Her hand clenched the air horn, and it blared.

The canister plummeted over the railing.

Arms tightened around her waist and the familiar scent of the boy she loved met her nose as he nestled his chin between her head and shoulder.

“Gotcha.”

She grunted. “You didn’t follow the puzzle.”

“You know I hate riddles.” He tightened his arms. “I’ve missed you.”

She hugged his arms and sniffed back the emotions that threatened. “Same.” Spinning in his arms, she raked her fingers into his hair. “Why do we keep letting life get between us?”

“I don’t know. But I’m still yours. Always.”

“I love you, Logan Jackson. Are we still going to the same college?”

“Of course.” He stepped back from her. “Why would you ask that? Did you apply to Gardner Webb?”

“Yeah, did you?”