Kill Switch (Devil's Night 3)

“Come on,” he says, pulling me through the maze. “You’ll like it.”

“What is it?”

I breathed hard, stumbling to keep up as he races through the other side of the maze and beyond the hedges.

He wants to show me something, but I really just want to stay in the fountain. It’s fun in there—so secret.

But he’s so happy now, and I’m kind of curious.

I can’t stop smiling. My belly has flutters in it.

We run deep into the backyard, our clothes wet and cold as we near the forest line, and I see it right away. I shoot my eyes up, taking in the long trail of wooden boards nailed to the tree trunk, and at the top sits a treehouse disguised above a line of branches and leaves.

Sort of.

It doesn’t look completed, but there’s a really big floor and a railing around the outside. It sits between a split in the tree, two trunks locking it in and surrounded by green. You aren’t just in a treehouse. You’re in the tree.

I let go of his hand. “Wow. You’re so lucky.”

He stands next to me, looking up at it. “You like it?”

I nod, not taking my eyes off it.

I wonder if he did it himself or if someone helped. It didn’t look all fancy like some others I’ve seen, and his dad doesn’t seem like the type to build treehouses, either.

“You go up first,” he tells me. “In case you slip, I’ll be behind you.”

I dart my eyes over to him, his dark ones looking at me under black eyelashes. A somersault hits my stomach, and I turn away.

Why am I nervous all of a sudden? Am I scared? It’s a tall tree, isn’t it?

“I think my parents might get mad,” I tell him. I’ve never been that high before.

His face falls a little, and after a moment, he just nods, looking disappointed. “Okay.”

I feel bad. I want to go up. I want to do things with him. He’s so fun. He’s not calling me ‘chicken’ or getting mad at me or anything.

I like him.

“You won’t let me fall?” I ask, making sure.

He looks down at me, smiling and excited again. He takes my hand and we run for the ladder, him letting me step up first, the boards still looking new and nailed in tight. My heart starts to pound, because if I slip or lose my grip, I’ll fall.

But I feel him right behind me, and I swallow the lump in my throat and start to climb.

One step after the other, one at a time, I scale the tree, refusing to look down and keeping my eyes above me on the door in the floor of the treehouse that I can spot through the leaves.

My tutu brushes against the trunk, the netting getting stuck on the bark, and I tighten my hands on each board as I pull it off and keep going.

A breeze blows across my legs, chilling my wet clothes even more, and before I can stop myself, I glance down, seeing how high we are. I gasp and wrap my arms around the board in front of me.

“I’m scared,” I tell him. “It’s high.”

He climbs up behind me, setting his feet outside of mine and his hands on the boards around me.

“It’s okay. I have you,” he says. “I promise.”

I squeeze my fists one time and then start to pull away from the tree a little. I look over my shoulder, meeting his eyes, and he’s right there, staring at me, almost nose to nose.