Screech!
I turn around as three black SUVs stop and a swarm of agents jump out, their guns pointing at us.
“Drop the gun and put your hands up,” one of them shouts.
Vincent turns and shoots, causing the agents to duck behind their cars and return fire.
“Stop!” I scream, rushing in front of Vincent so they won’t kill him. I feel a burning sensation on my side and my arm before the shooting stops.
I scream again as Vincent drops to the ground behind me, bleeding profusely.
Dark blood is pumping out of his chest with each shallow breath.
A guy in a black suit tries to pick me up, but I react by throwing my arm backward and connecting with his face.
I look down at Vincent.
And know he's dying.
“I love you, Lacey,” he whispers.
I fall on my knees in front of him, crying.
Trying to be gentle, I pick his head off the concrete and cradle it in my lap.
His eyes are shimmering with the love I saw that day on the beach when he talked about his grandmother.
“It'll be okay, Vincent. You’ll get to see your grandmother now.”
“I miss her,” he says, his voice raspy.
Blood is spurting out of his chest. I take my scarf off and shove it against his chest, trying to make it stop.
“Please tell me where Brooklyn is. Where Matt is. So we can finish our movie.”
“Don’t cry,” he says. “I love you.”
The color drains out of his face and I know he’s almost gone.
“I love you too, Vincey,” I say, as tears stream down my face.
He looks into my eyes and mutters something that sounds like, “Grandmothers.”
He stops breathing. His eyes becoming fixed.
And I know he's dead.
I wanted him out of my life, but I didn’t want this.
I bury my face in his hair and cry.
One of the men, who I recognize from Miami, picks me up and moves me away from the body. I sob into his suit as I hear sirens wail.
“Dallas is awake and will be fine,” he says. “Probably just a mild concussion. We’re working on the other boys.”
What other boys? Does he mean Brooklyn? Did they find him?
No, he couldn’t know about B. I haven’t told him where he is yet.
“I need my bag!”
I run to the van, grab my backpack, retrieve my phone, and make a call.
“Damian! Damian! Have you left for Miami yet?” I say, remembering that he was leaving soon.
“No, I took Peyton out for lunch and just got to the airport.”
“Whatever you do, do not leave without me!” I yell over the sirens.
“Where the hell are you? And why are there sirens?” he asks, but I hang up and rush over to Dallas, who is now sitting up.
“Are you okay?”
“I feel like I was rode hard and hung up wet.”
I laugh. “My grandpa says that.”
One of the agents helps Dallas to his feet, saying, “We need to get you checked out by the paramedics.”
He leads us around the van when I see it.
Aiden’s car.
Barely recognizable.
Smashed beyond belief.
Oh my god!
Is that what he meant by other boys?
I panic and start screaming at the top of my lungs, “Aiden! Aiden! Aiden!”
I run to the car.
He’s not there.
My heart nearly stops beating.
My eyes move quickly across the debris, searching for him.
“Aiden! Aiden!”
“Keatyn,” I hear him say.
I turn around and, there, on a stretcher by the ambulance, I find a tuft of blond hair and the greenest eyes I’ve ever seen.
I rush to his side. “Aiden, what happened?”
“Thank god you’re okay,” he says, grabbing my hand. “I heard gunshots. Riley and I were freaking out because we couldn’t get out of the car.”
“Did Vincent crash into you?”
Riley holds up a little camera from a neighboring stretcher. “Not exactly. I recorded it, so you can see what happened later.”
I rub the bump on my head, not really understanding how he could have recorded an accident, but there’s really only one question I want answered. “Are you two okay?”
Riley points down. “My foot’s messed up. Maybe broken. They want to X-ray it.”
“Aiden?”
“Probable clavicle fracture,” the EMT working on him says. “We’re taking them to the hospital, but they appear to be in pretty good shape, considering the way the vehicle looks. They’re lucky they were wearing seat belts and helmets.”
“Helmets?”
“The ones you bought at the track,” Aiden says.
“You mean he didn’t hit you?” I ask. As soon as I do, it dawns on me. “Wait?! You crashed into the van on purpose?!”
Aiden gives me a sheepish grin.
“You promised not to interfere!”
“It was our only option. No one was coming. Riley didn’t think you had your locket on. And we knew if we lost you . . .” He reaches up and touches my face.
“But your car—and you’re both hurt.”
“It’s just a car. It can be replaced.”