Grayson and I glare at each other in the ensuing silence. Neither one of us speaks until the front door shuts.

“What was that?” I demand. My voice is slightly hysterical. “I can’t believe you barged in here and scared him off like that!”

I’m shoved up against the wall, my breath knocked out of me, before I can say another word. With his hand wrapped around my throat, Grayson presses up against me. “You think that boy,” he spits, “can give you what you need? What you fucking crave?”

“I was more than happy to let him try!” I counter, baring my teeth. Grayson’s heady smell surrounds me, intensifying with the glare in his dark eyes. His nostrils flare as he tightens his grip on my throat. Just when I think he’s going to snap and devour me, he drops me instead.

Pointing his finger, he warns, “If I see him here again, I’ll beat him to a fucking pulp. Don’t test me!”

Then he’s gone, and I’m left fuming with crescent moons on my palms.

CHAPTER 10

GRAYSON

FEBRUARY 11TH, 2016

I’m scanning the crowds for Willow when I feel a hand on my shoulder blade. As I turn around, I’m met with Margaret’s sorrow-filled eyes. “What a beautiful vigil, Grayson.”

My smile is weak. I’ve put this off for a long time now because I wasn’t ready to accept the truth: my daughter is gone. Skelton is a small town with a tight-knit community, so today's turnout is overwhelming. The sun is out, warming tear-streaked cheeks and offering a glimmer of light on an otherwise dark and gloomy day.

It turns out Margaret was only the beginning. I’m shaking hands and accepting condolences for the next half an hour before the crowd finally starts to thin.

I need to apologize to Willow for what I did the other week, barging in like that and acting like a jealous boyfriend. I had no right. I don’t know what the hell it is about her that makes me lose my wits, which is why I’ve kept my distance. I can’t let myself feel these emotions. I’m a middle-aged man. The last thing I need is to entangle myself with a teenage girl.

I look for her one last time, but she’s gone. Despite being Chloe’s best friend, she kept a low profile at the back during the vigil. Willow prefers to blend in rather than stand out. On a day like this, I wanted to respect that side of her. It’s why I never asked her to do a speech.

I find her waiting for me on my porch when I arrive home. I’m surprised, but at the same time, I’m not. Today has been an especially difficult day for us both.

“Can I come in?” she asks as I approach.

My eyes skate down to the bottle of wine in her hand, and I frown. “Where did you get that?”

“Where do you think?” Rising to her feet, she steadies herself on the railing. “Mom’s stash.”