The Other Girl - Page 43

Addison: Stop dicking around. We need to make her go away. Now.

Hand trembling, I check the timestamp. The text was sent two hours ago.

Addison wants to make me go away. So she can have Carter. So she can be the only girl in his life.

I push my hand into my hair and grip at the roots. “She’s doing it all over again.”

She’s not Irina, Dr. Leighton’s voice whispers.

No, she’s not—she’s worse. Irina was cruel to my face. Addison is calculating. She’s been feeding Carter lies, and she’s been plotting with a vile piece of filth to extort me and force me to leave Black Mountain. All the while, pretending to be Carter’s best friend.

All I want is to protect Carter, and Addison is dangerous.

Carter and I were so beautifully happy before her deceit. “Do you know how hard it is to find love a second time?”

But does he love you?

“Yes,” I say, as I turn to stare into the white cascade. “Carter loves me.” I recall the look in his blue eyes as he gazed down at me in this very spot—the look of pure adoration. I want that look back.

Then you know what you have to do.

A chill skitters along my skin and I shiver. I place Sully’s phone in my lap and glare down at the dimmed screen. Dr. Leighton makes is sound so simple, but it never is. Loving someone from the depth of your soul is crushing, knowing what has to be done takes all of your willpower to see it through.

I take solace in the night; Carter’s dark energy is all around me. I can’t see it or feel it, but I have faith it’s real. I inhale deeply, and his distinct scent of aquatic cologne pervades my senses.

Yes, I know what I have to do to keep him mine.

I use Sully’s phone to type out a text to Addison and hit Send.

Sully: I’m ready. Meet me at Devil’s Bluff.

19

Twisted

Ellis

Have you ever heard your voice echo across an abyss?

The bass swallowed by the hollow void. The treble reflected back like an angelic song, the notes of a wind chime carried through the sea, a crash of a wave resounding, ending on a whisper as the notes fade into oblivion.

The sound is hauntingly beautiful.

I stand on a rocky embankment, listening as the last of my voice falls away.

Maybe it’s insane to shout into the darkness all alone. But I’ve always wondered about that strange metaphor—the one about whether or not a fallen tree makes a noise if no one is around to hear. And I was curious.

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How many lonely souls lie at the bottom of the ravine?

Would any of them hear me? Would any answer back?

The lake that lies at the base of Black Mountain is that cavernous abyss. Tonight, with only a sliver of moon to light the trail, the lake top is a mirror reflection of an ink-black sky. Puffs of satin-gray clouds scatter across the glassy surface like the most inviting bed.

All I have to do is take one step forward…and I’d find that eternal sleep.

I toe the edge of the cliff, toying with fate. A familiar prickling sensation webs inside my chest. Adrenalin and fear. It’s like falling in love. So near the danger, so fearful of taking that last step.

Tags: Trisha Wolfe Dark
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