Chapter 2 #2
“Yeah? Well, we all are. It’s called surviving.” I’m sorry, but I can’t stay in the kitchen any longer. I can’t stand the sympathy in his eyes, and the pain etched into every premature wrinkle on his face. I have to get the hell out of here. “Bye, Jack.”
“Where are you going?” he calls after me.
I huff under my breath, scowling as I peer back at him. “Does it really matter? How far can I really get?”
Jack’s sigh is like a knife to my heart. I know I’m taking all of my frustrations out on him because he’s the only one around, and I also know it’s not fair.
Too bad I can’t find a way to stop myself.
And then he says absolutely the wrong thing, and it only gets worse.
“If this is about Chase—“
Inside the sleeves of Rory’s jacket, my hands clench into tight fists. “I’ve told you before,” I say through gritted teeth, “it’s got nothing to do with him.”
He doesn’t believe me. And he shouldn’t. We both know that I’m lying.
Jack covers his cheek with his hand. “I know it’s hard, Allie, but you’re going to have to face him eventually.” His voice is shaky as he takes a deep breath before exhaling roughly. “You can’t avoid him forever.”
That’s what he thinks. I know all of Chase’s patrol schedules. Avoiding him is one of the only things I can do.
If only to get into the sunshine and out of my prison cell, I’d planned to take a walk over to the old high school after breakfast. It’s only about a half-mile trek from the Oak Grove Condominiums, and one of the few places where they leave the lights on all the time.
I like to disappear into the depths of the library, not because I find any real joy in reading these days, but because it’s quiet and hardly ever occupied.
After my argument with Jack, I changed my mind, choosing to return to ‘my’ room instead. I have to. The Knights’ two-story house is directly across the street from Madison High, and though Chase is the only one living there now, I refuse to risk the chance of running into him.
Not today.
Not with the scene from breakfast so vivid and clear… and the memories still way too fresh.
Chase Knight is—was—Hallie’s fiancé. The three of us had gone to school together since kindergarten; Chase and Hallie were inseparable from that time in fourth grade when they would play pretend-husband and pretend-wife on the elementary school playground.
Everyone thought it was inevitable that they would get married and, when the lurkers appeared and tomorrow wasn’t promised to anyone, Chase didn’t hesitate in throwing away their life plan—college first, working their way up at their prospective jobs, saving for a downpayment on a house—before impulsively proposing.
Not surprisingly for a world gone to shit, their February wedding kept getting pushed back.
Something seemed to happen every day that made the two of them feel as though their getting married would be selfish compared to all the hardships in the community.
Chase has always puts the needs of the Grave before his own, and Hallie was just as selfless.
At last count, my twin had set the simple wedding for the second weekend in July, but I’m absolutely positive something terrible would have caused another delay.
Why did it have to be Hallie’s death?
I don’t blame Chase for his reactions. Apart from me and Jack, he took her death the hardest. I know how he felt—we both lost our second half.
Of course he would think it was my fault that I survived and she didn’t.
It is my fault. He was the only one Jack allowed to visit me at the church, and though my memory of those first few days after the accident are hazy, I pointedly remember him sitting there with bone-dry, frantic eyes as he pleaded with me, demanding that I bring Hallie back.
But then something happened. Something changed.
When I was able to go back to Oak Grove, he, well, chased me there.
He’d visit every night before I began to purposely avoid him.
At first he said he just wanted to talk, and I felt guilty enough to encourage him to open up to me about his grief.
The first time he called me Hallie, I told myself that it was a slip.
When it happened again and again, I wasn’t so sure.
And then, before I shut the door on him for good, I did the unthinkable—
Three weeks ago, I slept with him.
It was a mistake. If I’d had two words with him since, I’m sure he’d agree.
Between mourning Hallie and sharing half a near-full bottle of whiskey he snuck over while Jack was on patrol, we drowned our sorrows in forbidden booze, bitched about how it wasn’t fair that Hallie was gone, and then… one thing led to another.
That’s how it always goes, right? In the right light—or maybe because my better sense was clouded by alcohol, plus the fact that I’ve always been a lightweight—Chase looked tempting. No denying what he saw when he looked at me. Hallie. He wanted his lover, and I wanted comfort.
So I fucked him, then panicked when it was over.
Before Jack returned to our borrowed condo, I kicked Chase out, and now I can’t face him.
It’s impossible. Every time he looks at me, I don’t know if he’s seeing my twin, her killer or her replacement, and that scares me more than anything else in this fucked-up world.
At least I know how to take care of the lurkers.
I don’t think fire is the answer when it comes to Chase.