Total pages in book: 238
Estimated words: 231781 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1159(@200wpm)___ 927(@250wpm)___ 773(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 231781 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1159(@200wpm)___ 927(@250wpm)___ 773(@300wpm)
He took my hand, looking down at me as he led me to the dance floor, and I could see his eyes trailing over the dried blood streaming down from my eyebrow and the bruises on my body.
“Part of my costume,” I explained.
I searched his eyes, unable to look away, because just the sight of him made my heart ache.
I had one night. Just one night with him.
“You didn’t dress up?” I asked.
His green eyes held mine. “I didn’t want to make it hard for you to find me.”
I felt the heat rise to my cheeks, and I smiled. He came alone then.
Walking to the middle of the dance floor, he stopped, and I turned to face him. “Mr. Sandman” by SYML began, and I started to move my arms up to his shoulders, but then I stopped.
“I actually don’t know how to dance,” I told him.
I’d never done this before.
Taking my waist, he pulled me in, and I gasped, my arms instinctively wrapped round his neck.
“Put your feet on mine,” he said.
Without argument, I stepped up on his shoes in my pink heels, happy to just hold on. Tipping my head back, I looked up at him as he held me close and started moving, turning in a slow circle and box-stepping small enough for me to easily follow.
“You look beautiful,” he said. “Despite that nasty spill you took down the rocks at Cold Point.”
He touched my face, thankfully only seeing the costume. People watched us, but I didn’t care what they thought. I couldn’t take my eyes off him, the slow, haunting tune playing just for us.
“Reverie Cross,” I mused. “She sounds like someone who had her own bathroom.”
“No.” He shook his head. “She was actually not well off. And she was okay with that, because he loved her anyway. Nothing else mattered to him.”
I tightened my arms around him, feeling my knees shake a little.
They were young, and I understood it. In that moment, everything prevailed and nothing else mattered. Why not let them have the dream?
But Will pinched his eyebrows together, studying me. “Something’s wrong.”
I shook my head. “Not tonight there’s not.”
Just one night.
And if it was just going to be one, I didn’t want to share him with anyone else.
“Can we leave?” I asked suddenly.
He stopped dancing. “You want me to take you home?”
“Not unless you want to,” I replied, still holding on to him. “I don’t want to leave you yet.”
He smiled, taking my hand as I stepped off his shoes. “Let’s go,” he said.
He pulled me from the dance floor, the people and the noise and every care I’ve ever had left behind as excitement heated my veins.
“Have you decided what you’re doing for your Devil’s Night prank tomorrow?” I asked as he pushed through the doors.
But he just smirked. “I have ideas.”
“I have one, too,” I told him.
• • •
“Are you sure about this?” he asked as we dumped our goods all over the grass. “Technically, it’s theft. A lot of theft. And vandalism.”
“I’m shaking in my boots, Will. Really.”
I set out the candles in a vigil on the step leading into the crypt, keeping my eyes peeled for the caretaker who lived on the grounds. No one was supposed to be in here after dark, but that didn’t mean someone wasn’t strolling around.
And it wasn’t like it was irreparable vandalism anyway. I had nothing against the McClanahans.
I just wanted to freak them out a little, so they’d rethink their agenda. Will and I had the same goal, albeit for different reasons.
The grave had become a local legend. In Will’s mind, Edward McClanahan belonged to everyone.
In my mind, if he stayed in his grave, my brother would be shit out of luck on buying it.
Will moved around the wrought-iron fence surrounding the crypt, fitting all the scarecrows we stole from Mr. Ganz’s Halloween yard display and the basketballs we also stole from the supply closet onto each head.
I stared at the McClanahan tomb, its dark, stained-glass windows and smooth, new stone, unmarred and clean. Brand new and ready for use.
“He shouldn’t be moved, right?” I asked, making sure we were still on the same page.
“Right.”
After we’d left the dance, I sent him to the gym while I raced to the bio lab and stole all the dead animals floating in jars full of formaldehyde. I put them on a cart, wheeled them to a window, and Will drove up with his truck and helped me load.
After making a couple of more stops, we were here. Ready to show the McClanahans what would happen if they moved Edward.
The vigil… would follow him. Year after year, unfailing, and complete with a Children of the Corn vibe.
If they didn’t want their final resting place to become a pilgrimage for messy, destructive, sexually active teens, they’d change their minds.