BooksBarbecue
Back Season of Fear
Chapters (67)
  1. Contents
  2. Title Page
  3. Copyright Page
  4. PROLOGUE
  5. PART ONETHE EXTREMES
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. 12
  18. 13
  19. 14
  20. 15
  21. 16
  22. PART TWOSOMETHING BAD
  23. 17
  24. 18
  25. 19
  26. 20
  27. 21
  28. 22
  29. 23
  30. 24
  31. 25
  32. 26
  33. 27
  34. 28
  35. 29
  36. 30
  37. PART THREECHAYLA
  38. 31
  39. 32
  40. 33
  41. 34
  42. 35
  43. 36
  44. 37
  45. 38
  46. 39
  47. 40
  48. 41
  49. 42
  50. 43
  51. PART FOURHIT AND RUN
  52. 44
  53. 45
  54. 46
  55. 47
  56. 48
  57. 49
  58. 50
  59. 51
  60. 52
  61. 53
  62. 54
  63. 55
  64. 56
  65. 57
  66. EPILOGUE
  67. AUTHOR’S NOTE

He was alone on the highway, and then he wasn’t alone. Alison was with him.

Alison, who was nothing but a flash of blond hair in his headlights. Alison, who flew when the bumper of Lyle’s Mercedes clipped her bicycle tire, whose head landed like a falling meteor on the asphalt.

He remembered the panic he felt. His body was bathed in sweat. His fogged head went around and around. He remembered running from the car to where she lay. He remembered staring at her on the ground, so small and limp, blood flowing, her eyes closed. He knew what to do. Call an ambulance, wait with her, hold her hand, whisper in her ear that everything would be okay. That was what he planned to do, even as he took her sneakered feet and dragged her off the road into the damp gully. He could imagine himself explaining the accident on the phone and giving the police his location, even as he covered her still-breathing body with dirt and leaves, even as he shoved her mangled bicycle under the cover of a flowering bush. There’s a girl, she’s hurt, he heard himself say, even as he screamed at Peach to get back in the car, as he told her never to say a word to anyone about what had happened.

He hit a deer. That was all. That became the truth.

If Lyle had left it at that, if he had let Deacon take the car to Jacksonville for repair, maybe his brother would still be alive. Lyle was no fool. He’d seen the headlines; he’d seen through the lie. And so he had to die. Strange, how simple the calculation was. He could talk to a lawyer and plead guilty and give up his life, or he could put a bullet in his brother’s brain. Strange, how easy it was to do that. How good it actually felt, silencing that awful, judgmental voice forever.

He wasn’t sorry. He hated Lyle. He only wished he could have told his brother to his face who the man of the family really was. Lyle was a coward who wanted big things but blinked at what it took to get them, who never understood that the ends justified the means. Not like Deacon. He wished his brother had known the truth. Then again, maybe he did. Maybe in that final instant, he knew who was putting that gun to his head.