13. Crawl

THIRTEEN

CRAWL

D uh. Like, really? I only just saw what he did to two of our other friends. Why am I so shocked that Aaron might've been one of them?

But I am. Probably because, now that I know who was under that mask, I can't imagine Clay doing any of that?

Look at him. He's more than happy to explain.

"He was the first. The easiest. When you want to drown someone, just do it. Hold them under?—"

I can't hear this. Not with the memory of Vee's broken body, Tyler's mutilated chest, Summer's bloody face, and Madison strung up like a doll all running through my head… "Stop."

"You sure you don't want to hear more, baby? Fuck, I missed talking to you. That's not all I missed, either, but… you look good, Cyn. Better up close." He twirls his knife. "Maybe even better on the inside."

I jut my chin up at him, hiding the way my knees are knocking. "You going to kill me, Clay?"

"Maybe," is his short answer. "But let's go in order first. How ‘bout that? I said Aaron was the first. Now that I think of it, though, he might not have been the easiest. That was probably Violet."

Vee .

"What about Vee?"

He mimes a push. "Whoops. Violet lost her step. Too bad. So sad." My fucking God, he's lost it. That's what happened while he was gone. Clay… he went absolutely insane, and every word that follows just makes me more and more sure I'm right. "I had something better planned for her, but she was always too nosy for her own good. She had to go snooping. I couldn't resist." He shakes his head. "She snapped something on the way down and never came back up."

I can't believe I'm hearing this.

"She was your friend," I gasp.

"My friend never would've told Chase Whitmore that you were into him. That you talked about wanting to fuck him. My friend wouldn't have passed him enough shots to work up liquid courage to make his move, and tug your head down into his lap after he yanked his cock out. My friend wouldn't have spread rumors all over town that the girl I'd do anything for would go under the bleachers and suck dick for ten bucks. I followed you everywhere, Cyn. Even back then. It was Tommy for you until you were mine. That bitch ruined your reputation with lies. She was never our friend."

"She… she did that?"

Clay nods, letting it sink in.

My world feels like it's spinning off its axis. I thought it did when Clay removed his mask, but hearing that Vee set me up? "I… but why ?"

"Because Summer Kaye asked her to. Because Summer Kaye thought that would be enough for Tommy to choose her over you. Because Summer Kaye doesn't know when to keep her goddamn mouth shut." He smirks. "She couldn't try to tell me shit when I cut her tongue out, I'll tell you that much."

Summer… "You killed her, too?"

"Of course. And, don't worry, baby. She offered to suck my cock if I spared her. That's enough reason the tongue had to go. It's only ever been you for me. Even while we were apart, there was no one else. And she thought I'd risk pissing you off by letting her touch me? Never. If I'm taking pussy as a bribe, there's only one I want."

Why does a small frisson of pleasure wind its way through me when I hear that, wherever he was while he was gone, he stayed loyal?

Why does an echoing sensation of guilt follow on its heels when I think about how I went back to Tommy?

I shake my head, knocking those thoughts out of it.

"How… how do you know all that? About Summer? And Vee?"

And Chase?

"Easy. Chase told me."

"Did he know?—"

"That I was alive?" Clay provides.

Again with the obvious: "Well, you're not dead."

He's not dead .

"Of course not." He bangs his plastic mask against his thigh. "There's a reason I keep this on, babe?—"

"I'm not your babe," I snap. "Not anymore. You died." I saw the crime scene photos. I begged and sobbed until Detective O'Halloran felt sorry for me and let me see them. The blood… "You died , Clay."

"Then call me fucking Lazarus because I'm back." He moves closer to me, reaching out, fisting the air when I stumble away from him. "I'm back for you, Cyn. For revenge. And nothing is going to keep me from you again."

No. What? No.

Revenge? For what? For Chase trying to force me to suck his dick when I was seventeen? For Vee… fucking Vee… planting the idea in his drunken head that I might actually cheat on Tommy with him ? For Summer using SA to break Tommy and me up?

If all that is true, then why the fuck does Clay care? He left me. I can't even bring myself to ask why because then I'll have to face what I think I always knew: death could steal my husband from me, but if he didn't die, then that meant I wasn't important enough.

That I was never important?—

"And you've been holding onto that for how long?' Did he just find out? Is that why he came back? He moved on, lived his life, but a tiny bit of leftover affection turned him into this?

Into a masked killer on a secluded island, days before Halloween?

"Does it matter?"

He has no idea how much everything matters to me.

The old Clay would have. But this new one?

"For how fucking long?" I ask again.

His expression is one of daring. Of defiance. "For as long as it took to make sure I could get the perfect revenge for you."

"So you killed all my old high school friends? What next?" I demand. "Me?"

His lips curve. "How's Tommy, Cyn?"

All of my defiance dies a death even quicker than the others when he asks me that.

He moves a few steps closer. "I knew you'd end up with him, ya know. You've always loved him. Didn't you, baby?"

I loved Clay .

"You left me." My words are softer than I intended them to be, full of pain even if I'd rather conceal it.

He hardens his jaw. "I had to."

No. He didn't.

He steps closer. I stumble back again. "Clay… what happened to you?"

"Very simple. I wanted my wife. I couldn't have her. Not yet. I had to fucking wait . But I know you, Cyn. You'd throw it in my face that I had to leave at all."

"You didn't have to?—"

"I did. You'll understand soon enough why. All I've ever done is protect you, even if it had to be from myself."

Well, I'm thinking he didn't do that great of a job considering I'm face-to-face with a formerly masked killer who chased me through the woods.

I gulp. "What else did you protect me from?" I think of the two bodies that I'm pretty sure he guides me past on purpose. "The mean girls?"

"From the rumors," Clay says flatly. " All of them."

I take a deep breath. "Because I'm the one who found my mom."

He jerks his head at me. Yes.

Summer fucking Kaye. She told everyone I did. No one believed her, not really, but there were enough curious stares that I was more than happy to leave Gullhaven with Clay when he asked me. Even if I didn't think I couldn't survive without him myself, I would've gone.

But look at that. I did survive. I made it five terrible fucking years without him, and now he's back?

He faked his death. That much is obvious. Suddenly, I don't care why , either, though I do say, "What else is new? Since I came back to Gullhaven with Tommy, they all thought I killed you, too." I make a sound in the back of my throat that could be interpreted as me joking, but I mean it when I add, "I thought about it. For making me live without you, if you hadn't been dead, I would've. Instead, I thought about going after who hurt you. But I couldn't find any leads. Of course not. It's so obvious now. You did it. So maybe I should kill you."

"You wouldn't."

"Why not?"

He grins. God, I'm a sucker for that grin… "I'm your husband."

I'll do anything to wipe that smug grin off of his face. "‘Til death do we part, remember? You died."

He doesn't have an answer for that, though I did what I accomplished.

His smile is gone.

And, for the second time, I ask, "What now? Are you going to kill me, Clayton?"

He lifts his knife. I try not to, but I flinch.

"What? You'd kill me. Isn't that what you just said, baby? Maybe you're not that appreciative of my gifts. My sacrifices . Of my offerings…" He hardens his expression to the point he's unrecognizable. "Deny me, Cyn. See what happens."

I close in on myself.

He looms, taking one step, then another, until we're less than a foot apart. I have to tilt my head back to meet the fury in his gaze.

"You promised me your loyalty," he grates out between clenched teeth. A muscle tics in his cheek. "How long was I in the ground before you let Tommy fuck you the first time?"

My heads jerks as if he slapped me. It's my fault? He disappeared and, after three years, I found solace with an old boyfriend, and it's my fault?

"I thought you were dead," I snap at him. "You were supposed to be dead.

He cradles the back of my head, pulling me closer while ducking his, forcing our foreheads to touch. "Oh, Cyn," he murmurs. "Did our vows mean so little to you? In sickness and in health… I lost my mind and I lost my wife. You should've waited for me. I wanted to you to."

"You should've told me," I whisper.

"I should've," he agrees, releasing me.

Once he does, I move until a good five feet are keeping us apart now. I'm so confused. Worse, part of me is ecstatic that Clay's here. All I ever wanted was my husband bad—but this is not the man I remember.

So he knows. I suspected as much. In order to arrange this… to get on the ferry, to even know we were coming to Halo Island in the first place… to go through with this insane pla of revenge, he had to have knows about Tommy.

I bite down on my bottom lips, wipe my damp hands on my jeans, then blurt out the only thought currently on my mind: "If you hate me so much for getting with Tommy while you were gone, is he next? Or am I?"

He sucks in a breath. His cheeks hollow, and I see something flicker in his eyes that I know all too well. "I don't hate you. So get that out of your head. As for Tommy…" He lifts his knife again, tilting it, using it to reflect the moonlight so I can miss it. "I haven't made up my mind yet. What will you do for me if I decide to spare him? Another chase, maybe? See what happens when I catch you again?"

Is that what this is all about? Is that why he picked now? Picked this place?

Picked me?

He wants a timid heroine? To play out his masked slasher fantasies this halloween?

Fine.

I'll do anything to get that knife from him before he kills again.

I'll do anything to keep him from going after Tommy.

Clay's here for me. I'm his wife, after all. I can't save Vee. Tyler. Summer. Madison… but I can fucking save Tommy.

I make a big display of folding my hands in front of my chest, plumping up my cleavage. Then, in a breathless voice, I tell him, "Anything you want, baby."

He closes his eyes, big body shuddering at my easy acquiescence.

Clay doesn't move other than that. I could run, but he'll catch me. He still has the knife. I'm not strong enough to overpower him, but if he gives me the chance… there are other ways for me to bring this man to his knees.

Keeping the same ingenue tone, I ask, "What were you doing anyway? All that time you were gone… what were you doing?"

His eyes snap open. "Counting down the minutes until I could be with my wife again."

The heat in his gaze has me second guessing myself.

I don't understand any of this. I simply don't understand . He died . But he didn't die. He faked his death somehow, for reasons that I don't know, and the man I lost five years ago is now a masked murderer ?

But he's still Clay, and I see a hint of my old husband when he dabs his bottom lip with his tongue before putting his knife away. I notice the sheath on his hip before my attention is stolen as he unbuttons his jeans, yanks down his fly, and reveals the hard cock he kept tucked behind his pants.

He braces his boots in the dirt. "On your knees, Cyn."

I start to walk toward him, but he shakes his head. "No. I said, on your knees."

I drop down to one, then the other.

"Good girl. You know better than to refuse, don't you? That'll make this so much more fun for the both of us."

Somehow, I don't think so—and I'm right when, in the next breath, he orders: "Crawl."