Chapter 15
GAbrIEL
SCARLET’S BITING DOWN on her lower lip, her fingers adjusting something on the camera.
“A little to the right,” she says. “Yeah, just like that.”
She takes the shot, and there’s something about the way she’s looking at me. It’s strange. But not in a bad way.
I’ve done press shoots before, and they were all formal things where they tell you to smile, hold a stick, and look like you’re having the time of your life. But right now, with Scarlett crouched in front of me and adjusting her lens, it feels different.
Real somehow.
I’m actually enjoying this. The whole photo shoot thing was just an excuse to talk to her and get closer, but now I’m kind of having fun with it.
When her hand brushed my hair earlier, I wanted her to keep touching me. The spot she touched kind of still tingles, or maybe I’m imagining it.
“Move over there,” she says.
I cross to where she pointed. She follows, repositioning herself, and I lean back against the tree trunk.
“Cross your arms.”
I fold them across my chest, and she snaps the photo. Then she moves closer, her eyes narrowing.
I glance down at my wrist, and I gasp.
The bracelet’s gone.
“One more,” she says. “Back in the grass.”
I don’t move. My eyes scan the ground near my feet, my pulse spiking.
“Gabriel?”
It’s not there. It’s not fucking there!
“Hey, what’s wrong?” she asks.
I spin around, searching the grass near the tree. Nothing. I crouch and run my hands through the blades, my chest tightening.
“Gabriel?”
“My bracelet,” I say. “It’s gone.”
“Oh,” she says. “It should be here somewhere. We didn’t go far.”
I move to the spot where I was lying down earlier, my hands shaking as I comb through the grass.
It has to be here.
It has to be.
“Slow down. We’ll find it,” Scarlett says.
But I can’t slow down. I can’t breathe. My lungs feel like they’re shrinking, and my vision starts to blur.
It’s the only thing I have left of Lucas.
The only thing.
My hands are moving faster now, tearing through the grass, but I can’t see anything. I can’t focus. My chest is so tight it hurts, and my breaths are coming in short, shallow gasps.
“Stop.”
I can’t. I have to find it. I have to.
My throat feels like it’s closing up. I try to pull in air, but it won’t come. The edges of my vision are going dark, and my hands won’t stop trembling.
It’s gone. My brother gave it to me, and now it’s gone.
I press my palms into the grass, trying to steady myself, but nothing works. I can’t get enough air. I can’t think. I can’t do anything, because my hands suddenly won’t cooperate.