Depths of Deception (Blackwell Lake #2)

Chapter 1

GRAYSON

The Blackwell Lake University band was known for hyping up the crowds at football games.

Not today.

Today, they seemed like a small, somber group, clad in black, the eerie, mournful notes of their instruments echoing across the field. There had been too many people to fit inside the church, so here we were, in the meadow next to the graveyard, seated in rows with an aisle down the middle.

The Zeta Gamma Theta sorority girls were all huddled together in their rows at the front of the opposite side to where I was seated with the hockey team and Micah. Some of them were openly sobbing, and every single one of them looked distraught.

We stood to face the coffin as it came up the aisle, the pallbearers grim and serious as they slowly passed us. The casket was closed—it had to be, with the—

Fuck. Bile rose in my throat as I thought about the mutilation of her body.

“I wish she was here,” Micah whispered. “I wish we were all together.”

He was on the farthest end of the row, next to me, and I had Smith on my other side.

Coach sat in the row in front of us, along with some of the other faculty members.

We were surrounded by my teammates, so all I could do was give him a tiny nod, pressing my thigh into his in a futile effort to provide comfort.

I still couldn’t believe it. And it had happened at the Halloween party. Our Halloween party.

I wished I’d been quicker. I wish I’d done something.

I wished.

But wishes were fucking futile when we had a deranged stalker out to get us.

I felt as if I were drowning, like the depths were swallowing me.

“Gray! Cruz!”

The sheer panic in Micah’s voice, coupled with his sudden appearance right next to us, had my heart beating right out of my chest.

“What? What is it?” Shrugging Cruz off, I moved to grip Micah’s shoulders, fear rising as I took him in. With his mask pushed up on top of his head, there was nothing to hide his wild eyes and the fear in his expression.

“I can’t find Ava. She—she was heading toward you. But you’re here. Not there.”

“What are you saying? I don’t understand.”

Cruz came up next to me, curving his fingers around Micah’s bicep. His breaths were coming faster than they had when he was up against me, giving away how worried he was. “Where’s Ava?”

“I— We were in the kitchen. She saw you by the door leading out to the yard, Gray. I saw you, too, so I let her go. Last I saw, Cruz was heading upstairs to look for you, so I left her and came after him. How are you here?”

My heart was in my fucking throat, and I could barely breathe, a heavy, nauseating pressure bearing down on my lungs, suffocating me.

“Micah,” I said slowly, forcing the words out in between shaky breaths.

“I haven’t been in the kitchen since I left the three of you locked in the pantry.

I’ve been circling the house, looking for anything suspicious, but I haven’t made it back there yet, and I haven’t been anywhere near the door to the yard. ”

“Fuck,” Cruz whispered.

Micah’s panicked gaze connected with mine. “If it wasn’t you I saw in the kitchen, then who was it? And where’s Ava?”

The three of us ran for it, shouldering people out of the way. Our only concern was getting to the kitchen as quickly as possible.

I tore off my mask, staring around at my surroundings wildly. “I don’t see her.”

“Gray. What the fuck, bro? You were walking out to the yard a few minutes ago, and now you appear on this side of the kitchen? How did you manage that?”

I took in Johnny’s words, a chill going down my spine. “How did you know it was me?”

His mask was on his face, and he was in shadow, but I could almost hear his eye roll. “I’ll give you a clue. Your fucking surname and number written on the back of your jersey. Unless you have a clone I don’t know about—”

I pushed past him, not caring at that moment if I seemed rude, because fuck.

This was my warning.

Happy Halloween, Grayson.

I made it to the door that opened onto the yard, Cruz and Micah right on my heels, when we heard the first scream.

Then another, and another, and our lives went to hell.

The rest of the night had been a blur of cops invading our house, questioning everyone, shaken and crying students, all the while I tried to hold it together on the outside when inside I was being ripped apart.

Nothing could bring her back from the dead.

The funeral service was short, which I was grateful for. No one wanted to drag out such a tragic event. There was an air of disbelief over us all, that a student’s life could be cut short so fucking tragically.

When the pastor announced we could step forward and pay our respects, Micah gasped next to me, his eyes glistening.

“I can’t do this,” he whispered, and he made a break for it as everyone was standing, running for the building that housed the crematorium.

He disappeared into the bushes around the side of it, out of sight in seconds, and I swore under my breath.

He shouldn’t be alone. Not today. Not like this.

“Grayson. How are you holding up?” Coach Pierce turned to face me before I could go after Micah, and I swore again, too quietly for him to hear.

“As well as can be expected,” I said.

“Such a tragedy. She had such a bright future ahead of her.” He shook his head, tutting quietly. “A senseless tragedy.” His expression morphed into one of disapproval as he peered around me. “Where’s Micah? Couldn’t he have waited to leave? That boy has no respect.”

“Uh. No. He had to take some photos for the article they’re doing on the school website,” I said, thinking fast.

“Hmm.” Thankfully, one of the other faculty members leaned over, stealing Coach’s attention, and I used the opportunity to make my escape.

I didn’t bother coming up with excuses for my teammates.

I was too fucking out of my mind to even think of any, and so I took off in the direction Micah had gone without a backward look.

“Micah?” I pushed through the undergrowth, impatiently swatting away the branches that were catching on my suit jacket. “Micah? Where are you?”

“Here,” came the quiet voice, and I rounded the corner to find him in a small clearing, slumped against the wall of the building with his hands in the pockets of his suit pants. His head was tilted upward and his eyes were closed, but I saw the tear tracks on his face.

Something inside me fucking broke. I strode over to him, gripping his chin, his freshly shaven skin smooth beneath my fingertips. At my touch, his eyes flew open, wide and troubled, still shining with the remnants of his tears.

“Gray,” he whispered, and my name was a plea on his lips.

“Yeah,” I said hoarsely, and then we were kissing.

It was hard, it was fucking desperate, and it was filled with everything we couldn’t say.

We poured everything into it, both of us holding on like we were each other’s port in this storm we’d found ourselves in, an anchor to stop ourselves from going out of our minds.

“Fuck, Gray,” he choked out, tearing his mouth from mine. Then he lunged forward, kissing me again. “Make me forget. I need to fucking forget that night. I know you don’t want me like that, but I need—”

“I know.” I did. I was completely out of my depth, but what was new? My life had already been turned upside down, and discovering that I not only wanted to kiss Micah again, but my dick was rock hard in my pants…I would’ve had a freak-out even just a week ago, but ever since Halloween…

He exhaled unsteadily. “I don’t fucking care if it’s wrong or right. I need you. I feel like I’m falling apart.”

We wanted the same thing. Comfort. A warm, breathing, alive body against ours, reminding us we weren’t alone.

Silencing our fears for a moment, allowing our minds to focus on pleasure instead of pain and blinding fear.

There was truth to what people said, that funerals made you horny.

I wanted release, fucking craved it. I wasn’t a mind reader, but I knew Micah did too.

There was no one else here. No one else who understood what we were going through. Just me, and him.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” I admitted, rocking my hips forward and feeling his equally hard dick against my thigh.

He groaned and pulled me into him, giving my erection some friction against his thigh, and this time it was my turn to groan.

Threesomes were one thing, but I’d never actually done anything sexually with a guy.

I’d have to rely on my instincts to get us through this.

Although…maybe Micah had experience with guys. He’d kissed Cruz, after all.

“D-do you know what you’re doing?” I panted in between grinding against him and kissing over his jaw and down his throat.

“No. Feels so good.” Fuck, he sounded wrecked. It was so fucking hot.

I kissed him again, my tongue sliding into his mouth, and then it was all hot, messy, wet kisses as we ground roughly against each other.

“Fuck,” I groaned into his mouth, and he stiffened against me, gasping as his climax hit.

Fuuuuck. He’d just come, right there, from grinding up on me.

Panting, he suddenly released his grip on my ass—wait a fucking minute, when had he started touching my ass?—and rubbed his palm over the head of my trapped erection.

I. Fucking. Came. Just like that. In my pants like a fucking teenager.

Collapsing into him, letting the wall take our combined weight, I lowered my head and breathed into the crook of his neck, my mind blissfully empty for the seconds it took me to come down from my high.

All too soon, though, reality caught up with us.