She Dims the Stars(36)

“You already know what you’re going to say, don’t you.” It’s not a question. Elliot is too smart for that.

“I have things I need to tell him, Elliot. And this might be the only way I can get him to listen to me and not judge me or yell or run away. It’s worth a shot. And if it backfires, then at least I’ll have tried.” My hands are shaking, and I hold everything closer to my body to stop it.

He sits up and looks me over, his dark eyes searching. “And me? Am I coming in with you?”

I smile. “Depends on if you have something to tell me, I guess.” I don’t wait for his answer before I leave the room to take a shower and prepare myself for what’s coming next.



Anderson’s truck is made for the type of trip we’re about to embark on, and September assures us that he wouldn’t have an issue with us taking it. Cline is giddy with excitement, climbing behind the driver’s seat of the Chevy extended cab, adjusting the mirrors, sliding his girl closer to his side before roaring out of her driveway and into the warm Mississippi night.

We ride with the windows rolled down, a faint knowledge of where our destination should be, and nothing but headlights in front of us and the radio turned up to almost deafening levels. Cline has his head out the window, hair blowing in the wind, shouting into the night like he’s lost his damn mind. Then I realize he’s just happy. I’ve forgotten how that looks on him; it’s been so long.

My hand instinctively grabs for Elliot’s across the seat, and he takes it, twining our fingers together and placing our hands on his left thigh. He shifts closer, only an inch or so, but it’s enough to make the tension in my shoulders relax. I chance a look at his profile in the darkness of the backseat, and he has his eyes closed while the air from the windows hits his face, the wind ruffling his dark hair back and making his eyelashes flutter in the breeze. I have fought the growing attraction inside of me with every ounce of willpower that I have, but in this exact moment, I know I can’t anymore.

I have feelings for him, and I am scared shitless by what that means.

After a few more minutes of staring, his eyes open, and I look away, out my window, trying to tuck my hair behind my ear like I’ve been enjoying the scenery outside instead of inside the cab of the truck. A pulse of his hand against mine alerts me to the twitching in my fingers, and I take a deep breath and turn to look at him again. He licks his lips and leans forward, but this time I don’t back away or stay still, I move toward him, too. His cheek grazes mine and he places a soft kiss by my ear.

“We’re almost there,” he says, low and deep, causing me to shiver. I nod in response, and he pulls back to give me a smile of encouragement. I focus on his words and his mouth. How he says his s’s. The way they come out different and thicker than anything else he says. I think about his eyes and how kind they are or how concerned he can be. What they looked like when he jumped from the cliff and came up out of the water, his head emerging and eyes seeking me out to grab me and hug me to him while he yelled in excitement.

I think about his promise and hope that after tonight he still feels the same way.

Cline slows the truck down to a crawl, and September turns from the front seat to look back at me, her gaze darting to my hand in Elliot’s for only the smallest of seconds before she speaks. “Do we park here? When I looked it up, all of the sites I saw said that if the people in the neighborhood catch you they’ll call the cops.”

I look around at our surroundings and point beyond a stop sign. “Park in that church lot. Seems like a good place to be if we’re going to be trespassing in a cemetery, right?”

Cline mumbles something, pulls in, and then puts the truck into park and waits. I look at the map I found and take a deep breath before letting go of Elliot’s hand and getting out. Illuminated by only a street light, the map is lightly drawn, and I have to squint to see which direction it’s pointing us to. With one flick of my wrist, I have the streets aligned and every nerve in my body is on high alert.

“It’s this way,” I say, turning to the group as they stand behind, waiting for instructions. “I’m ready whenever you are.”





The night is eerily quiet as we walk the length of the darkened streets of the neighborhood from one stop sign to the next. The sound of our footsteps is near deafening, and I almost want to tell everyone to tiptoe just in case anyone is out on their porch this late at night with a shotgun. I’m not a runner, but I will run from guns, ghosts, and zombies.

“Is it this fork … or this one?” Cline asks, holding up the map and shining his phone light on it. There are two splits off of the main neighborhood road, and the map doesn’t exactly differentiate between the two.

September speaks up, pointing her finger to the left. “I’m going to assume it’s the split with all the scary fog and no light coming from it and not the one where you can see houses and stuff.”

“Shit. She’s probably right.” Cline huffs and pulls her to his side. “I cannot believe none of us brought a gun. Or a knife. Or nunchucks.”

“What would you have done with nunchucks?” Elliot hisses at him in the darkness.

“ Hit them in the balls,” Cline loud-whispers back.

We are almost to the location now, and just as we near the end of the road, a chain link fence comes into view.