It was a hat—the black baseball cap I’d seen him wear
before.
An image of the man in the woods flashed before me. He’d been wearing a black cap, but that... that was only a memory or
a stress-induced hallucination. It couldn’t be...
“Your hat?” I said hoarsely.
Carson glanced at me, brows raised. “Yeah, had it for years.” I put it on the dashboard, quickly dismissing the irrational
fear. As we drove up the narrow dirt road, I glanced at him. “I
tried to talk to Del before Veronica turned on me.”
He gave me a sidelong glance. “Sam, I don’t want to be the
reason why you leave him.”
“You’re not,” I said honestly. “Things aren’t the same between
Del and me, and that has nothing to do with you.”
“Okay.” One of his fingers tapped on the steering wheel.
“Has he told you anything about your relationship?” I shook my head. “Other than our relationship was perfect? No.”
Carson let out a choked laugh. “He said that? Wow.” “What?” My interest was immediately piqued.
“Your relationship was far from perfect.” Turning onto a
gravelly, bumpy road put us right into direct sunlight. He reached
over, grabbed the baseball cap, and slid it on. “You guys were like
Cassie and Trey, fighting all the time.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yep.” He squinted, making a sharp right. “You guys didn’t
break up like Trey and Cassie did all the time, but you two fought
like crazy.”
I slumped back against the seat. Del had lied to me, and
I’d believed him—believed in this perfect, fairy-tale romance. Feeling stupid, I glared out the window. There were more than enough signs that things weren’t perfect. The looks the girls gave
me, the times Del had slipped up.
“You doing okay over there?” he asked.
My hands balled into fists. “I’m pissed! It’s bad enough that
I don’t remember anything, but lying to me? He took advantage
of me. I feel like an idiot.”
“You’re not an idiot, Sam.”
Pressing my lips together, I shook my head. Maybe I wasn’t
stupid, but I’d been incredibly naive. How many more people
were lying to me? And about what? About things that were far
more serious than the status of my relationship with Del, no
doubt. My chest ached at all the possibilities. What if I was a
murderous teenage brat and all the signs had been there? And no
one wanted to tell me?
We came to a stop at a dead end blocked off with a chain
and a weathered sign that marked the property private. Carson killed the engine and sat back, looking at me.
“There’s a trail that actually leads straight from your parents’
house to the cliff. I only know from helping Dad do stuff around
the summer home. You could’ve made it at night, though.” Looking around and seeing nothing but thick wilderness,
it was hard to imagine wandering around here at night and not
getting eaten by a bear. “Who owns it?”
“The state, I guess. Not really sure, but you and Scott used
to hang out up here a lot when you were younger.” He paused. “I
would tag along when your parents let me. You used to love to
stand on the edge of the cliff. Freaked me and Scott out.” I smiled faintly. “So this place meant something to me?” “I think so.”
Reaching for the handle to open the door, I drew in a deep
breath. “Ready?”
“Can you wait a sec?” Carson asked, pulling off the cap. He
ran a hand through his hair, then tossed the hat onto the dashboard. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
Dismay stirred inside me, and my heart dropped all the way
to my toes. Nothing good came from statements like that. Letting
go of the handle, I twisted toward him. “What?”
He stared straight ahead, eyes narrowed and jaw clenched.
“I haven’t been completely honest with you about some things.” I opened my mouth, but nothing came out except a ragged
breath. The ache was back in my chest, but different this time.
It was centered over my heart, raw and worried like an overexposed wound. Part of me didn’t want to know what he hadn’t
been truthful about, but I couldn’t—wouldn’t—run from this.
Squaring my shoulders, I braced myself for whatever he was about
to say.
“Okay,” I finally said. “Tell me.”