“Asshole.” She lunged at him, knocking him in the shoulder.
He didn’t fight back. They had been here before. They had played this game before. Instead he brought his hand to his bottom lip, his fingers coming away bloody.
By the time he looked up again, she was on him. She grabbed his face in her hands and kissed him as hungrily as he had kissed her. He grasped the back of her neck and placed his hand on her low back, crushing her to him. She reached between his legs.
“Oh God,” he moaned.
They stumbled to the edge of the parking lot, kissing and fumbling with their clothes. To hell if anyone was watching. He wanted someone to see him have her. He lifted her up and pinned her against the thick trunk of an old maple tree. He clutched a handful of her hair and yanked her head back, kissing and biting her throat. She wrapped her legs around his waist, opening herself wide for him. He pushed deep inside of her, letting her take him to a place only she could take him.
They clung to each other, their bodies slick and warm. His legs felt weak with exhaustion. She sobbed against his chest. He was spent, used, wondering how their love brought out the best and worst in him, how something so sweet could taste like poison.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Caroline looked over her shoulder not once but continuously. The light of the moon cut through the trees, distorting the shadows of branches on the ground. The lake water looked as dark as pitch, like a sharp, shimmering black hole. She had never been out this late at night, and as if she wasn’t paranoid enough, even the Pavilion looked ominous, old and abandoned.
She wound her way to the water’s edge, creeping past lakefront cabins, pausing to listen for any sounds. The horse and the legend lurked in the corners of her mind, making the hairs on the back of her neck bristle. She reached Adam’s place and slipped around back, stopping in front of his bedroom window. She tried not to think about what would happen if she got caught and tapped on the glass.
“Adam,” she whispered. Tap. Tap. Tap. “Wake up.” She strained to listen for any sounds coming from inside. Nothing. “Adam,” she said a little louder. Tap. Tap. Tap. A rustling came from in the room. The curtains parted, and Adam pressed his nose against the glass, trying to see outside. She stood back a few inches and waved.
“Caroline? Is that you?”
“Yeah, open up.”
He pushed the window up. She could just make out his big ears.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
“Get dressed. I need your help,” she whispered. “And be quiet.”
He didn’t ask for an explanation. She knew he wouldn’t. Adam might be only ten years old, but she knew how to spot a team player when she saw one. He’d help her without question. He’d want to help Sara. Caroline learned in the last few days that Megan was a different sort of friend, although which kind of friend Caroline couldn’t say.
Adam was who she trusted with her plan. She stepped into a shadow to hide and give him privacy. He came back to the window. It was a struggle, but they managed to pop the screen off without making too much noise. He climbed out. They stood quietly and listened for any sounds of his parents stirring.
When she thought it was safe to move, she crept back along the water’s edge. Adam followed behind.
“What are we doing?” he whispered.
“We’re releasing the snappers,” she said. She had counted at least half a dozen traps and guessed each one held two or more snappers apiece. The job was too big for one person.
He grabbed her arm so she’d stop walking. She turned to face him. His eyes were open wide. “Why?” he asked.
“So they don’t get Sara.”
“But don’t you want her found?”
She furrowed her brow. It was a complicated question and one with no easy answer. But he had crawled out of his window in the middle of the night, he could get into serious trouble, she could get into serious trouble. It was against the law to mess with a fisherman’s traps, and yet he was standing here. She owed him an explanation.
“Yes and no,” she said. “I want her found but not this way.” It was the best she could do. She didn’t know how to explain her dream, how Sara asked not to be found, how she wanted her mommy. The dream had felt real. And the least Caroline could do was not let Sara be found by the snappers. She had formulated a plan earlier that evening, lying in bed, too afraid to close her eyes. “She’s one of us,” she told him. A kid. It was personal. “And we owe it to her.”
Adam nodded. On some level, it was personal for him, too. Maybe it was his subtle way of getting back at Heil and the other adults for taking his treasured horse’s bit, for not speaking about the dangers of swimming in the lake, its history, what lies at the bottom.
“Are you in?” she asked, giving him one last chance to change his mind.
“I’m in.”
They continued to follow the water’s edge. Caroline’s sneakers sunk in the mud. Behind her, Adam was having the same difficulty. His feet made a sucking sound with each step. And then it stopped. She didn’t hear him anymore. She turned around. He was standing still, looking out at the lake. “Adam,” she said. “What’s wrong?”
“I thought I heard, like, a neighing sound or something.” He pointed to the sky. “But I couldn’t have. The moon isn’t full. You can only hear the horse during a full moon.”
She looked at the moon. It was a gibbous moon. She had learned about the eight lunar phases in earth science. But was it a waxing or waning gibbous? One occurred before a full moon and the other after. She hoped it was the latter, and that the full moon had already past.
“I checked the calendar the other day, you know, after what I found,” Adam said. “It won’t be a full moon for another two days.”
So it was a waxing gibbous moon. She nodded and looked around uneasily. “Come on,” she said, glancing at the moon and lake one last time. “We need to keep moving.”
They continued along the water’s edge, fighting the mud. When they reached the beach, they had a decision to make. They’d either have to cross the road and make a wide loop around the parking lot, staying close to the woods and possibly waking up Cougar, or they could stick close to the Pavilion but risk running across the open lot without any cover. The direct route was the quickest and also the scariest in her mind. She glanced at Adam. Shadows covered his face, but she sensed his nervousness. Maybe it was best to take their shot in the open and get it over with as fast as possible.
“Stay close to me,” she said.
They sneaked along the beach’s fence line and reached the Pavilion. The water licked the shore, the crickets chirped, the mosquitoes buzzed around her ears, but otherwise the night was quiet. She took a careful step toward the building, Adam in tow. They kept their backs to the wall, staying in the shadows, creeping slowly toward the stairs. The gravel underneath their sneakers snapped, crackled, and popped like the cereal Caroline ate for breakfast. The sound was much too loud in the silent night. They continued under the steps and around the corner where the lake opened wide and flickered under the moon’s glare, where the gaping parking lot awaited.
“On the count of three,” she said, “we run to the dock. We can hide behind the third pillar.” It was the tallest pillar on the pier and the one closest to Stimpy’s boat.
Adam nodded.
“One,” she said. “Two.” Before she got to three, a duck splashed in the water, quacking and calling a warning. She and Adam both jumped. They stared at each other. He covered his mouth and laughed into his hand. She started laughing too, a nervous kind of laugh that hurt her belly when she tried to contain the sound.
“Shhh,” she said through jittery giggles.
When they had both settled down, they straightened up and looked around.