Chapter 33

Chapter Thirty-Three

Chloe

T he last dessert, vanilla cupcakes with sprinkles, finds its place on the overflowing sideboard by the grace of an elevated tray.

I step back, taking in the abundance of freshly baked goods. Growing up, something like this would never have been permitted in the house. My mom was too fixated on appearances, and cake only entered the door when caterers brought it for company parties she never allowed me to attend.

When we moved out on our own, she never learned to cook, and when the chef quit after the second month of no pay, it left me at a loss with no life skills. After one too many kitchen fires, I stuck to ready-made meals or things that didn't require the oven.

But I helped with several of these treats, and it fills me with a sense of pride.

The entire day feels surreal, baking alongside Holden and Dominic—especially Dominic. Every time I catch myself slipping into the comfort of our old friendship, memories of how he once tormented me jolt me back to reality.

Fussing with the desserts, I glance at the window, and the darkness outside reflects the hopeful look Dominic fixes on me while my back is turned. It stirs things in me, both bad and good, that are going to need more therapy.

"Chloe, could you hand me those plates?" Holden's words bring me back to the present.

"Sure thing." I turn back to them, and Dominic quickly focuses on icing the sugar cookies.

As I help set the table for dinner, my mind keeps wandering. Every time I brush against Dominic in passing, I flinch, then feel guilty for the flash of pain that crosses his face, and then get angry at both reactions.

My emotions are a tug of war, pulling back and forth between hating the boy who tormented me and being hopeful of the man he grew up to be. Part of me wants to forgive, to move past the bullying, while a larger part demands I protect myself.

It's exhausting.

The sun drops below the tree line, the lights on the porch flickering on, and the sense of unreality washes over me once more.

The day passed in a blur of baking and tense small talk.

I thought Grady would reappear at some point, if only to crow about finally filing the restraining order, but he's made himself scarce.

"Hey, are you okay?" Holden asks, concern for me in his hazel eyes.

A twinge of guilt shoots through me for adding to his anxiety. "Yeah, just tired."

He nods in understanding. "It's been a long two days. Dinner's almost ready, though. We can relax soon."

I glance toward the darkening windows once more, my hand lifting to my shamrock necklace. "Have there been any updates about Quinn?"

Holden pauses, his golden-brown curls falling over his forehead as he shakes his head. "Nothing yet."

The scent of burnt sugar mixes with the baked sweets, signaling the return of Holden's stress, and I regret asking. If he'd had any news, he would have said so.

Heavy silence falls over the kitchen, making it difficult to breathe. I fidget, my skin crawling with the desire to burrow into a nest of blankets, pull them over my head, and not come out until things are better.

"Quinn is a smart girl." Dominic's words calm the ants dancing over my body. "She's probably hiding on one of the lower floors and will pop back up any second."

"And she'll be hungry," Holden says brightly, lifting a bowl of mashed potatoes. "Let's move the food out to the dining room."

The aroma of roasted vegetables and tender meats rises into the air. After sneaking so many cookies throughout the day, I'm not sure I can eat any more, but to make Holden happy, I'll find room.

I shrug out of my apron, grab the basket of bread and the butter dish, and trail after Holden. Together, we set the long table, which groans under more dishes than a full house could eat.

Dominic slides a platter of juicy pork roast into place. "Everything is perfect, Holden."

"I'll go check on Grady. He should be back by now." I head to the back hallway and pass my door to stop in front of Grady's.

When no answer comes from my knock, I turn the doorknob and poke my head inside.

A cool breeze greets me, raising goose bumps. Confused, I push the door wider to walk into the suite. "Grady?"

My heart skips a beat as I take in the empty room. Grady's laptop rests on the desk, its screen dark. A plate of untouched cookies and a cup of cold coffee sits beside it.

Worry spreads through me when the open door to his patio catches my eye. Did he go outside to enjoy some fresh air?

Arms hugged across my stomach, I step out onto the stone pad. "Grady?"

A cool breeze carries the faint scent of flowers, and fairy lights illuminate the sprawling garden. The echo of my voice fades, and frog songs take its place, increasing my sense of unease.

Cold seeps through my clothes as I walk to the edge of the stones. "Grady, are you out here? It's time for dinner."

No response comes.

The lights strung along the pathways cast a soft, enchanting glow, casting shadows that dance and sway with the wind. The beauty of the scene would have delighted me any other time, but now it only serves to increase my anxiety.

"There are no bears on the island," I whisper to myself as I step out onto the path. "I'm going to smack Grady for making me go looking for him."

The soles of my sneakers make little noise on the winding stones as I walk past flowering bushes in search of my bestie.

"Grady!" I shout, his name vanishing into the settling night as I move farther away from the house.

The cold slices through my unicorn onesie, and I shiver, my teeth beginning to chatter. My mind starts to get the better of me, and I flinch back from the deeper shadows, my imagination painting masked serial killers in their depths.

Sometimes, being creative works against me.

As I near the back of the garden, I spot more lights flickering beyond the hedgerow. They seem to beckon me, luring me further away from the safety of the house.

Fear turns my mouth dry, but there's nothing on the island that can hurt me, no matter what my mind whispers.

I follow the line of bushes, and hidden among them, I discover a small gate standing ajar.

With a shaky breath, I step through, hard stone giving way to soft grass. "You better be dying to make me go through this, Grady."

The sound of frog songs grows deafening as I focus on the lights ahead. They don't look very far away. Just a quick little jaunt.

"It would serve you right if I left you out here," I mutter, my voice too quiet in the deepening shadows. I raise it to yell, "Grady, you are not an outdoorsman! Get your ass back to the house, you paper pusher!"

The scent of damp earth fills my nostrils, and beneath it, I catch the chemical sting of aftershave, giving me hope I'm on the correct path.

I peer back toward the Homestead and find the garden farther away than I expect. My heart lurches, and I almost turn back for one of the guys, but then a muffled sound from up ahead urges me on.

"Grady?" I hurry forward. "You better not have actually hurt yourself!"

The trees part, and I stumble to a stop, squinting against the blinding lights.

Blinking the spots from my vision, I take in the construction site, illuminated by the harsh beams from towering floodlights. The air hums with electricity, but the machinery lies dormant around a gaping maw at the center of the clearing, surrounded by caution tape and warning signs.

Another whiff of artificial cologne makes my nose itch, and dread pools in my gut as I creep closer to the pit.

The freshly turned earth sinks beneath my sneakers, and my pulse quickens. "Grady?"

Silence.

Deafening, suffocating silence.

"Grady!" I shout again, worry clawing at my throat. I need him to answer me, to tell me he's okay. He's always been there for me, a comforting presence by my side.

Then a soft groan reaches my ears, and I duck under the caution tape to step up to the edge and peer down. My breath catches when I spot Grady lying motionless at the bottom, with his back propped against a cement pillar.

Horror trembles through me. He's so still, and his leg steps out at an unnatural angle.

My panic rises. "Grady!"

"Chloe!" Dominic's shout cuts through the darkness behind me. "Get away from the edge!"

His urgency shakes me out of my shocked stupor, but I can't tear my gaze from Grady. I need to know he's all right.

"Grady needs help!" I choke out. "He's hurt."

"Chloe, listen to me," Dominic pleads, his voice strained as he nears. "Step back slowly. It's not safe."

"Grady's injured!" I spin to face Dominic.

"Chloe, don't move!" Dominic warns, but too late, his words register in my panicked brain.

The ground shifts, crumbling beneath my feet.

My arms flail as I try to regain my balance, but the loose dirt gives way. Terrified, I lock eyes with Dominic, whose face twists in horror as he races toward me.

"Chloe!" Dominic's desperate shout reaches me, but the deafening roar of my pulse in my ears drowns it out.

The world spins around me as I fall, and my last sight is Dominic's outstretched hand grabbing for me as if he can somehow pull me back from the edge.

Warm fingers brush mine for a heartbeat before gravity drags me out of his reach.

I scream as air rushes past me, followed by pain and darkness.