She darts to her feet, and we all laugh as we reach the woods, moving through them and far away from the troopers who will be cursing their bad luck—A.K.A. us—shortly.
They need to go. There’s nothing to do in town when the damn troopers are here. The grocery store is even closed.
“They’re not staying in town this time, so the fake disease heist is off. Gotta be crafty this time,” Krysta says, then points a finger at me. “Back on topic: If a guy gave up his life, chased me here—of all places—and was totally cool with just how crazy my family and I are, I’d give him a ring.”
I snort, and Lilah outright laughs. She’s so full of shit.
“To be fair, your family would send almost any guy running away, so that means—”
“That means I don’t have to worry about someone ambushing me with a wedding and asking when my babies are going to be born,” she quips, causing Lilah to scowl, but the scowl fades to a smile, which pisses her off, so she looks away to hide her very expressional face from us.
“I think Lilah Vincent is happily married,” Nila mocks.
“Speaking of your family,” Lilah says, ignoring Krysta’s juvenile kissing noises, “aren’t your brothers supposed to be helping you today?”
Krysta rolls her eyes. “Tate and Porter are at the challenge committee meeting. I told my other two siblings there was going to be a comet crash if they didn’t do the rain dance in reverse until the sun sets.”
Don’t ask. Krysta’s family would take too long to explain. There’s a reason their family flag has a squirrel on it…
“You’re letting her distract us from explaining why she stepped out on Liam before he woke up,” Nila, the dead girl walking, says with a coy little grin on her face.
“You should have heard the way Nila talked when she met Liam,” I decide to say, the little dig causing that angry wrinkle to form on her brow.
She flips me off without looking at me, and I laugh to myself.
“Gibberish? Was it gibberish? Why did I miss it?” Lilah groans as we step onto the road, beginning our half a mile walk to the section of lake where we tied our boats off. I rode with Lilah, and Krysta rode with Nila. Since only two of us are technically allowed to be together at the same time.
Town rules are a pain in the ass when you have besties from all four families of Wild Ones.
“We really are being distracted. What’s the deal, Kylie?” Krysta, dead girl number two says.
I open my mouth to speak, when we hear a car coming. Nila shoves Krysta at the same time I shove Lilah, both of us reacting before those two can do it to us. They land in a heap, rolling down the ditch bank, as the car passes.
I’m almost positive that mountain lion screech is not actually a mountain lion, but a very pissed off Krysta Nickel instead.
I give a little wave to Janice Holland, and she starts to slow down, no doubt wanting some juicy gossip since she heard Liam is here for me. I’m ready to tell her he’s my stalker and he’s crazy over me, so she’ll report it to all the nosy assholes with pretty daughters who have way too much interest in Liam.
But…she gasses it when she notices Nila at my side.
“I don’t think she likes you. No way would she pass up the chance to grill me about Liam if you weren’t standing right here.”
“She’s terrified of me,” Nila says with a proud grin.
“We’re going to kill you,” Lilah groans, and I turn to see her climbing out of the ditch as Krysta pulls twigs from her hair and glares at us.
“It was us or you. I’m sure you understand since you two sent us into the ditch the last time that happened,” Nila says with a grin, not even bothering to look back as she struts down the road in her ripped up jeans, raccoon tank top, and mountain boots.
I’m in my “feed the beaver” shirt, because it’s just that kind of day.
We make it to the boats without anyone else going ditch-diving, and Krysta and Nila get boarded on Nila’s boat, while Lilah and I get on hers. As they pull away, Lilah takes the driver’s seat and swivels to face me when I get us untied.
“Am I taking you home or to Liam’s?” she asks, a challenging glint in her eyes. “He’s too much man to fit in that tiny little apartment of yours.”
What she’s really asking is if I’m a coward or fearless.
Which is really unfair. She knows I hate being called a chicken. That’s how I have that rose tattoo on the crack of my ass. It was really awkward for Jenny—the ex tattooist—and myself when I got that done all because Krysta called me a chicken.
“Actually, I want to go somewhere else,” I tell her, digging out the piece of paper in my pocket that I swiped from Liam’s bedside table.