3:AM Kisses (29 page)

“I’m coming, baby,” I whisper as I speed up the dark winding roads. I hope to God the only thing I find is Baya and a bunch of girls from Alpha Chi singing in a circle.

Somehow I doubt that.

I race us over to Pike’s Peak where the bridge is located. I’m shaking with frustration and pissed to hell just praying Baya is safe.

“That’s it,” I say as I spot Laney’s sedan parked in front of the boulder where Baya and I have taken our bikes these past few weeks. The Witch’s Cauldron sits just beyond it, and the bridge is a good ways up ahead. I jump out and am half way up the trail before I hear the door slam again.

“
Ba
ya!
” I scream, navigating my way through the brush. I hit the bridge and jump onto it, giving it a mean sway, but there’s nobody up here. “Shit.” I dig my fingers into my hair. Baya is here somewhere. “I’m going to find you.” I start making my way across the bridge and glance back to see if Laney has caught up yet, but a pale branch in the stream catches my attention, and I freeze in my tracks. That’s no fucking tree limb. That’s a leg.

Without thinking, I jump in.

“Baya!” I shout as I traverse a downed birch trunk to get to her, but she doesn’t flinch. “
Fuck
.” I make my way over and pluck a dried shrub off her chest. Her head is perched on a rock close to shore, and her body is hugging a boulder preventing her from drifting downstream. I pick her up and place her lips to my cheek and feel a warm breeze expel as she breathes over me. “Baya.” I pull her close as I climb us out of the rocky crag.

Laney comes up on us and lets out a viral scream.

“We got to get her to the hospital,
now,
” I pant, racing back to the truck. “Baya,” I whisper her name as I place her in the backseat with her head on Laney’s lap.

I drive so fast that the road blurs through my tears. There’s something startlingly familiar about this entire scene. It’s all playing out like it did years ago on that fateful night that Stephanie died—getting a call just before dawn that Steph was in the hospital—finding out she hurt herself—that it was all because of me.

The hospital comes up on the right, and I barrel us into the lot. I park at the base of the E.R. and jump out, scooping Baya into my arms. Her lips are blue, her skin pale as chalk.

“Baby, wake up.” I press my lips to hers as I hustle her to the front of the emergency room.

A woman with squatty features and square glasses points behind me. “Excuse me sir, there’s a long line ahead of you.”

“My girlfriend needs helps.” A knot the size of a shoe lodges in my throat, and I can’t get anything else out. “She’s unconscious—she was in the stream,” I muscle it out through the pain.

“I’ll buzz you in.”

I jet over to the entrance just as the door opens and lie Baya on the first gurney I see. A swarm of doctors and nurses rush at her and wheel her across the way, closing a curtain around her.

“Bryson.” Laney pulls me into a hug and rains hot tears over my shoulder.

“She’s going to be fine,” I whisper. “She has to be.”

“Bry!” Holt shouts from down the hall as he runs over.

“Where the hell is Aubree?” Laney clutches at her throat.

“I don’t know,” Holt pants out of breath. “But I found this.”

He holds out a blue binder, and I snatch it from him. Written across the top in neat squared off handwriting is my name. “What the…” I open it up and find countless pictures of myself. Me in front of the Black Bear, the Sky Lab, my face in a newspaper clipping from my high school graduation. I flip the page and see my picture from the yearbook with my face X-ed out—devil horns drawn onto my head with fangs dripping from my lips. “Shit.” I turn the page and freeze.

It’s a newspaper clipping of Stephanie’s obituary.

“Oh my, God,” it stilts out of me in less than a whisper. It’s all happening again, only now I’m wondering if Aubree had her foot in both disasters. She was Steph’s best friend. She told me herself she hated seeing us together.

Fuck.

Hours drift by while an entire team of medical professionals work on Baya before they finally call us back. Cole joins Laney and me as we head in to see her.

There she is. Baya lies helpless with tubes and wires coming out at every angle—her beautiful face scratched along one side with a giant red welt.

“She okay?” I ask the doctor, staggering toward her.

“She’s fine. Just a few scrapes and bruises on the outside.” He sighs as if the worst is yet to come. “She has a small contusion to the back of her head. We pumped her stomach. There was a high dose of benzodiazepine in her system. It’s similar to an extreme dose of valium.”

“That’s a fucking roofie.” Cole’s eyes are on fire.

The doctor nods and proceeds to tell us she’ll be fine in the morning, but they’ll need to keep an eye on her and might ask her some questions when she comes to.

“It was Aubree,” Laney seethes as the doctor leaves the room. “That stupid bitch.” She lets out a frustrated breath. “I knew—I
knew
I should have gone with her, but Aubree made her promise to go alone, and she was too afraid to risk it.”

“That’s Baya for you.” Cole takes a step into his sister and gingerly picks up her hand. He leans in to kiss her and stains her yellow gown with tears. “She’s used to doing what she’s told.”

I run my fingers through my hair as I go over and press a kiss to her cheek. “Baya.”

“You think someone slipped it to her at the bar?” Cole looks over at me as if it were a possibility.

“No.” An entire wall of words demand to break loose from my throat. I tell him about the notebook Holt found in Aubree’s room, about her seemingly innocent obsession with me since high school.

“We need to call the police,” Laney’s voice shakes as she says it.

Cole holds up his phone. “Already did.”

In the morning, I rouse to a kick in the face by way of Cole’s shoe. We slept head to toe on a crappy cot the hospital provided, even though we promised the staff only one of us would stick around last night.

“Dude.” I nudge him away before leaping to my feet to see how Baya is doing. The cops let Aubree go last night because there was no evidence she slipped Baya anything. They said she could have gotten the roofie from the bar. I tried shoving the notebook up their ass, but they said Aubree was a third-rate stalker at best.

Baya is still asleep. They’ve already removed her breathing tubes, and the welt on her face has significantly gone down. The doctor said she was lucky she didn’t slice her head open when she fell. The rocks in the stream are sharp as razors.

“Someone was looking after you, that’s for sure.” I touch my lips to her cheek. I’d like to think it was her father or Steph. That Steph really didn’t hate me. That she cared about the people I loved and wanted them safe, too.

Her lids flutter.

“
Baya
,” I pick up her hand as her eyes struggle to open.

Cole pops up beside me and shakes her shoulder. “Baya, wake up.”

“Enough.” I flick him off. “Give her some space.”

“Bry,” she whispers. Her lips curve into a smile. Baya takes in a deep breath, and her eyes spring open. “Cole.” She looks right at him, and her eyes swell with tears.

“Baya,” Cole leans in and kisses her forehead. “You’re okay.”

“What happened?” She glances around, startled. “Where am I?”

“You’re at the hospital.” Cole glances at me for support.

“You were with Aubree, last night,” I say. “Do you remember anything?”

“That’s right.” She squeezes her eyes shut. “The bridge—the Jell-O.”

“Jell-O?” I look to Cole a second. “Was it a Jell-O shot?”

Baya nods. “She said there wasn’t anything in it but water.” She shakes her head while struggling to sit up. “Obviously I can’t hold my liquor.”

“Why would you take anything from her?” Cole leans in as if he’s about to reprimand her.

“She said I would get in if I drank it. She said all the sisters did it.” Baya pushes out a breath. “I’m so stupid.”

“I don’t think you’re stupid, Baya.” I warm her arm with my hand. “Aubree has a way of making people do things they normally wouldn’t do.”

Baya looks up at me, the expression melting from her face. “So you know?” She nods as if I should acknowledge this. “You know what she did to Stephanie?” Her forehead creases with concern.

“What who did to Stephanie?” My heart thumps in my chest because it knows the hatchet is about to fall.

“Wait.” Baya winces as she sits up. “I’m confused. I don’t want to say anything. I probably imagined the entire conversation.” She drills those emerald eyes into mine. “Bryson, what happened to Stephanie, and who was she?”

I take a breath and dart a quick glance over to Cole. I told him everything during a beer bender one night and have regretted it ever since. Steph was a wound I preferred to keep buried in the past—until now.

“She was a good friend of mine—my best friend. Once our hormones kicked in, we thought we’d give dating a shot, and that didn’t work out so well. We tried to keep it together through our sophomore and junior years of high school.” I swallow hard because I hate the next part of the story. “We were in the process of breaking up when she”—I take a breath and blow it through my cheeks—“she fell from a cliff.” The tears come without warning, and I try to sniff them back. “The note they found said I was to blame.”

Cole steps over and slaps my shoulder. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Then why do I feel like shit?” I wipe my eyes with the back of my arm. “We had already broke it off about six different times. We were just kids. We were always fighting. I honestly thought we were about to get back together when she said she was coming to see me. Only, she never made it.”

“Did Aubree know her?” Baya looks from me to Cole for answers.

“She was her ‘big sister,’ some program they ran through school. Aubree was always getting in our business. Why? What did she say?”

Baya’s eyes widen as she fixes her gaze on some unknown horizon. “She said, I took care of that little bitch just like I’m about to take care of you—then she gave me a push.”

The world freezes. The air in the room stops up, strong as death. Steph and Aubree used to go to the cliff to hang out. Steph said it was peaceful, that it helped center her.

“Shit.” It bellows from my lungs so loud the walls shake with the echo.

It all happens in a blur—the cops coming in—Baya’s mother storming the room once her plane touched down. Baya gives a firm account of what happened to her at the bridge last night, and the cops agree to call Aubree into questioning again.

They’re reopening Stephanie’s case.

Reopening the wound.

Hopefully, this time, we’ll get some real closure out of it.

Baya

The sky above the Hollow Brook cemetery is washed a creamy butter yellow. Bryson leads us over the polished granite stones as we tread carefully across people long since deceased in our warm wool coats, our winter boots.

It’s been two full weeks since the incident, and I’ve got all my strength back. Aubree is being held on suspicion of manslaughter. Her parent’s have already bailed her out, and rumor has it her father hired the best defense attorney that money can buy.