Until We Meet Again

mob goes after Ned.”


I put the pieces of the theory in place. “And you get caught

in the crossfire.”

Lawrence exhales, scratching a hand through his hair. “We

don’t know anything for sure.”

“Yes, we do,” I say. Each word burns in my throat. “We know

that if you hadn’t met me, you’d be safe. I’m the reason you’re

killed. It’s my fault. I never should have come back to the beach.

I knew what happened to Travis, but I just didn’t care—”

“It’s not your fault.”

“Of course it is!” I shout. Then breathing hard, I stagger

back. “All this talk about fate and destiny? It’s crap. I just

convinced myself of it because I wanted to feel justified in

coming to see you. I wanted a reason to ignore the warnings

that were clearly laid out for me. I’ve been selfish, and now

look what’s happened.”

Lawrence takes my face in his hands. “Don’t talk like this. I

won’t hear it.”

I shake my head, breaking from his grip, and he takes me in

his arms.

“Look at me.”

“No.”

“Cassandra.”

I feel heavy with the burden of everything that’s happening.

I just want to run away. Cry. Scream.

“I would never take back a moment of our time together,

Cassandra. Not a single breath. Not a single word. Meeting

you has been the greatest thing to ever happen to me.”

Tears burn behind my eyes. Squeezing them away, I press my

lips to his. He hooks his arms around me. Our kiss pulses with

longing and fear and hope. When we break apart, I press my

forehead to his.

“I’m scared,” I whisper.

He strokes the hair from my face. “So am I. But now is

the time for courage. We know so much more than when

we started.”

“But we still don’t know how to keep you safe.”

“We know about Cooper Enterprises. And Fay’s family. That’s

big. You better believe I’m going to have my eyes wide open on

Saturday night.”

My stomach twists at the mere mention of it. “You’re planning on going to your uncle’s party?

“Am I supposed to stay in my room all day?”

“No! You’re supposed to get in your car and drive as far away

from here as possible.”

“That might save me on Saturday, but what about the next

day? The next week? Don’t you think they’ll come looking for

me? The only way to stop my death from happening is to face

the murderers, whoever they are, head on.”

He’s completely serious. A surge of unexpected anger rushes

through me.

“Are you crazy? Do you want to be murdered, Lawrence? Do

you honestly think you can go up against the mob and not end

up with a bullet in your head?”

A coldness settles in his eyes. “You have no idea what it feels

like to know that you may die in the morning. Do you know

how much thought I’ve given this?”

“Of course I do! Because it’s the only thing I’ve been able to

think about, same as you.”

“It’s not the same,” he insists.

“How can you say that?”

He shakes his head, turning from me in frustration.

“You’re trying to be brave!” I shout. “But you’ll just get yourself killed!”

“If I run away like a coward, it will be my uncle who dies. He

has no idea about Fay, or even about Cooper Enterprises. He’ll

throw his big, happy party and wind up dead.”

His eyes are red and glassy with pain. The sight fills me with

the desire to hold him and kiss his tears away. But I don’t. The

tension of our argument crackles between us.

“I care about you, Lawrence.”

He scoffs. “Well, I happen to care about my uncle.”

“I’m not saying—”

“I know exactly what you’re suggesting—”

“I can’t lose you. I’d never forgive myself. I’d never get

over it.”

“Cassandra—”

“No! I won’t calm down.” It feels like someone is sitting on

my chest. I can’t breathe. “I’m trying to save your life, Lawrence.

Renee Collins's books