But he’d been more broken than I’d realized. I pictured his face that night in the canyon, twisted into a mask of rage, the terrible things he yelled at me. How jealous he’d been that I was out there with Thayer. How he called me a slut for wearing shorts, his breath angry and hot with whiskey. He hated the fact that I’d wanted to sleep with him—and hated himself for wanting to sleep with me, too. What happened to Louisa shattered him, and he’d punished me for his own fear and self-loathing about not being able to protect her.

Emma’s stomach curled into a tight little ball inside her, her head spinning. “That’s . . . awful,” she breathed.

Thayer nodded. “Yeah. Garrett never really recovered.”

In spite of everything, a twinge of pity shot through Emma’s chest. She couldn’t even imagine the kind of pain Louisa and Garrett had been through. Then again, she thought, the same thing had happened to her—someone had hurt her sister beyond belief, and she had to live with it. Sutton hadn’t deserved what happened to her any more than Louisa had.

She looked up to see Thayer watching her closely. “So you think what happened to Louisa made him snap?” he asked.

Emma sat up, straightening her legs out in front of her. “Maybe. But it doesn’t matter, does it? He killed my sister, and I don’t care what his excuses are. He’s dangerous, and I have to find a way to prove it.”

Thayer was silent for a long moment, studying her face.

“You know, you’re so much like her.” He gave a sad smile. “Not just the way you look, I mean. When you get that determined gleam in your eyes, you remind me so much of her.”

Emma found that she was leaning slightly against his shoulder, their arms just touching. She knew she should shift her weight, put more distance between them, but she couldn’t seem to move. For just a heartbeat, something magnetic pulled her toward Thayer.

“But I’m not her,” she said softly, forcing herself to move away. “And you have to keep your promise. I don’t know what I’d do if Garrett hurt you, too.”

Thayer’s jaw clenched, and his hands curled into tight fists. But he took a deep breath and stood up, his eyes suddenly clear. “I promise. You know where to find me if you need anything . . . Emma.” Then he turned and strode off toward his car.

I watched him go, hoping against hope that Emma had made the right choice in telling him—and hoping against hope that Garrett wouldn’t kill him, too.

24 - Go Google Yourself

24

GO GOOGLE YOURSELF