If You Dare (Dare 3)

“I don’t have time to go through this with you again!” She always thinks the worst when it comes to him. “I’m calling you ’cause Cole isn’t family, and he’s gonna need updates. So fucking update me!” Then I hang up before she can say anything else.

Kellan coughs before turning onto his left side. Blood runs from his mouth and nose. His face is busted. “I’m … sowwwy,” he cries out.

“You will be,” Cole tells him. Then he looks at me. “Call Bennett. Tell him to get his ass here.”

“No … no … no,” Kellan cries frantically.

I dial Bennett’s number. He answers on the third ring. “Hey, Deke ….”

“I don’t have time to explain. Get your ass up to the cemetery behind the Lowes’ Estate.”

“Everything okay?” he asks quickly.

I look down at Cole as he straddles Kellan again. He wraps his hand around the butt of the knife that sticks out of his side. “Fuck you, Kellan.” He yanks the knife from his side, tosses it away, and then begins to punch Kellan in the face again with fists still covered in Austin’s blood. Kellan tries to fight him, but it’s no use. He’s lost too much blood, and Cole is a killer. When you become his target, he doesn’t stop until the job is complete.

Kellan knew this would only end one way. Even if Cole had to track him down, the outcome would have been the same.

Death.

And I was going to help my best friend achieve that goal. No matter what I had to do to make it happen. Because we’re sharks. And what do sharks do? They kill.

“Deke …?”

“No, Bennett, it’s not.”

“The town did call off the search.” I shrug. They were never going to find his body. Bennett arrived and dropped him off in the ocean—attached to some dive tanks. He was never going to resurface. I’m sure the sea creatures took care of what was left of him. “With no body recovered, that leaves a lot of questions.”

He sighs. “I’ll call Bennett in the morning and see if he’s got anything new.”

“Has he found any information on who owns the cabin?”

He shakes his head again.

“So we’re just supposed to wait around for the fucker to throw something our way?” I growl.

“I’m just as pissed about it as you are, but until we know who it is, there’s nothing we can do.”

A silence falls over us, and I finish the cigarette. I stand to walk inside when he steps out of the pool, and asks me, “What if it’s not her?”

I turn to face him but don’t answer.

He picks up his towel off the ground and wraps it around his neck. “Her name was on the list. So she’s either behind it or about to be thrown into it.”

“Your point?” I quirk a brow, wondering where he’s headed with that statement.

He runs his hands through his hair, shaking off the excess water. “My point is what are you going to do if she’s not behind it?”

“We have never killed someone for the hell of it. If she’s innocent, then I’ll protect her.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

DEMI

I PULL UP to Austin’s house and knock on the door. Rocking back and forth on my heels, I wait for someone to answer. There wasn’t a car in the driveway, but I’m sure her Range Rover is in the garage. The guys aren’t here. I only came over because they have practice. I haven’t even gone home. I came straight from school because I wanted to get this over with before they returned home.

Just when I’m about to give up and turn away, the door swings open. Austin stands before me in a pair of dark jeans, a white T-shirt, and her hair up in a messy bun. And she doesn’t look very happy.

“I’m sorry,” I say immediately. I never meant to hurt her.

She lets out a long sigh and steps to the side, allowing me to enter. “It’s not your fault,” she says, shutting the door.

“I should have never read it. I should have told you …”

She waves me off and walks to the kitchen. I follow her. She goes straight to the fridge and pulls out a bottle of wine. “Do you drink?”

“Yes.”

She pops the cork on the bottle, then she pours two drinks. “I prefer Fireball, but since it’s not five yet, I’ll keep it to a glass of Merlot.” I take the offered glass, and she raises hers. Knocking them together, she says, “To the friends we lose, and the lessons we learn.” Then she takes a big gulp of hers.

I sip on mine. “Have you heard from her?”

She nods. “She’s called me. I’ve ignored them.”

I look down at my drink. “I hate that she hurt you, but I can’t say I’m surprised.”

“I’m not mad about the journal. I mean, I am, but it’s what she said to me.” She sets the glass down, and her eyes meet mine. “I’m not with him because—”