29. Micah

29

MICAH

W e all stared at each other in silence. Ava shivered, wrapping her arms around herself. Her hair blew across her face in the breeze, hiding her expression from me, but I knew she was just as unnerved as I was.

"Why here?" Cruz voiced what we were all thinking. The breeze picked up, ripples appearing on the surface of the murky gray water, the trees behind us rustling almost ominously.

Grayson threw his arms out, gesturing toward the lake. "Because we need answers. Because this is the place where it all happened. Because I'm fucking sick of this asshole fucking with us. Because that message I received was a clear threat. Happy Halloween, Grayson, and a picture of my house. It couldn't be clearer than that." His eyes were wild, his hand tugging agitatedly at his hair as he paced up and down the tiny, rocky beach we were standing on.

Cruz moved lightning fast, darting in front of Grayson, making him pull up short. They glared at one another, and I rolled my eyes despite my apprehension.

"This isn't just about you. We're all invited to that party."

"No shit, Sherlock. Why do you think I asked you all to meet me here today? I'm concerned about us all—yes, even you—and don't come at me with shit about you being able to handle yourself. I know you can, but we don't know what we're up against."

After a moment where Cruz studied Grayson intently, he exhaled sharply and stepped back. "Okay. You have us here, so what's your plan?"

"I want to reenact that night. See if there's anything we missed. It was dark then…who the fuck knows what we saw or what we actually did? Our searches have turned up nothing, and if something is planned for the Halloween party, then I want us to be as prepared as possible."

I startled when Ava leaned into me, her breaths coming fast in my ear, and I realized how affected she was by Grayson's suggestion. I didn't hesitate, slipping my arm around her waist. Cruz's gaze slid to Ava, then to me, and his mouth curved into a slow smile. He moved to stand on Ava's other side, curling his own arm around her shoulders. When his fingertips brushed my shoulder, I returned his smile with a tentative one of my own. This felt weirdly good, and right. We were both providing comfort to Ava, and at the same time, we were providing comfort to each other.

Grayson bit down on his lip, something that looked like hurt flashing in his gaze, before he abruptly turned away. "Let's go," he commanded, striding away without looking to see if any of us were following.

"Gray," Ava called after him, but he didn't respond. She sighed, laying her head briefly on Cruz's shoulder—and when had they become so comfortable around each other?—before speaking again. "Come on. None of us wants to do this. Grayson doesn't want to do this either. But he's right. We need to go into this party with our eyes wide open."

"I hate it when you make sense," Cruz muttered, but he disentangled himself from her after giving my shoulder one last squeeze. "Come on, then, princess. Let's get this over with." Lifting his hand, he tilted her chin upward with his finger, and then lowered his head to brush a quick kiss over her lips. She gasped, her hand flying to her mouth, and he grinned down at her. "A kiss for good luck."

My heart pounded at the sight.

When Cruz lifted his head, his grin widened, and he strode over to me. Our eyes met, and before I knew what was happening, his lips met mine for a brief moment. I gasped, my eyes widening. What the fuck was happening right now? Ignoring Cruz's knowing smirk and fighting against the tiny part of me that wanted him to kiss me again, I turned to see Ava watching us thoughtfully.

"Micah," she said, and then she kissed me quickly. "Extra luck."

Oh, yes, I liked this. A lot.

Her hand slipped into mine, and as we began to follow after Grayson, I realized Cruz was holding her other hand. It was a comfort thing rather than anything else, but it felt good, and it meant that I didn't have to focus on what we were about to do.

We reached the jetty where there was a speedboat tied up, bobbing in the water. There was a Jet Ski next to it, all ready to go. Grayson was standing at the end of the jetty, his arms folded across his chest and an unreadable expression on his face.

He's so hot .

The thought flashed through my mind, and it was immediately followed by a stomach-churning sense of guilt. It had been hurt I'd seen in his eyes earlier, hadn't it? Of course it had. The three of us had presented a united front, and he hadn't been a part of it. As I looked more closely, I could see how tightly his jaw was clenched, his throat working as he suppressed whatever he wanted to say.

"Fuck," Ava whispered next to me, her gaze following mine, and I knew she'd come to the same conclusion I had. It was unlikely that Cruz cared, given the fact that there was no love lost between them, but for the two of us…our relationships with Grayson Cross were more complicated.

"Ava, Micah, you're in the boat. Martinez, Jet Ski. Circle round to your original position," he said in a low, even voice, and the control he must've exerted to be able to react so calmly…it was yet another reason he was the captain of the hockey team.

Cruz released Ava's hand, and then he straddled the Jet Ski, prepping it and starting it up with a roar. He steered it carefully away from the jetty before he shot off around the right-hand side of the lake.

Ava and I climbed into the boat, taking our seats, while Grayson busied himself with untying it and doing whatever he was doing behind the wheel. He didn't look at either of us, and Ava huffed out a soft breath before moving to the front of the boat, careful not to rock it.

She placed a tentative hand on his arm. "Gray."

"Don't," he bit out, and then roughly rubbed his hand over his face. "Sorry. Not now," he said much more softly, his shoulders hunching over as he stared straight ahead. "Please, sit down. Put on a life jacket. You too, Micah."

When Ava returned, slumping down on the seat next to me, she sighed again. "Can you try? Please, Micah."

Scooping up the life jackets from the bottom of the boat, I passed one to her, shaking my head. "If you can't get through to him, I won't be able to."

"Please."

When she leaned into me, placing a soft kiss to my cheek and then whispering "Please" in my ear, making me shiver, my resolve cracked.

"Okay. I'll try."

The boat started up before I had a chance to work out exactly what I was supposed to do to snap Grayson out of his mood, and I was glad of the reprieve.

We reached the center of the lake and Grayson cut the engine, his gaze trained on the moving shape in the distance that was Cruz on the Jet Ski. It was now or never. I came up next to him, bracing my arm on the side of the boat, so I didn't stagger into his body with the way it was rocking over the waves.

"Gray," I began.

"I keep feeling the bump and seeing the hand," he whispered, and I shuddered.

"Gray," I said again, and he finally looked at me, his gaze haunted. Gathering my courage, I moved even closer, turning into him so my chest pressed into his arm. "You're not alone in this."

His lashes lowered, and he quickly bit down on his lip, but not before I saw it tremble. Fuck .

"I am," he said hopelessly, and nothing on earth could have stopped me from gripping his shoulders to make him face me, and then wrapping my arms around him.

I placed my mouth to his ear, speaking low and urgently. "You're not. You're not alone. I promise I'm here. We're here. We're in this together."

"It's not the same," he muttered, his body stiffening against me. "Fuck. I need?—"

Sudden panic that he was going to push me away had me reacting instantly and irrationally. I angled my head and pressed a kiss to the soft skin just below his ear. It was completely unplanned—and it had both of us freezing in place at the same time. His head whipped back, his eyes wide, and I opened and closed my mouth a few times, lost for words.

"Grayson!"

The shout from our left was accompanied by the roar of the Jet Ski, and Cruz pulled up next to us, water churning angrily in his wake. "I saw something. It might be nothing, but it might be something. When I was cutting back across the lake, I noticed a path…one I've never seen before, leading down to a little beach. Something caught my eye, and I pulled over to check it out." He paused, licking his lips, and oh fuck, was he actually worried? "From there, you have an unobstructed view of your boat. But not only that, on the beach, right in the center, there's a pile of rocks."

"Rocks…" Grayson said slowly.

Cruz nodded. "Like a cairn. A place to mark a burial site."